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diff --git a/old/51649-0.txt b/old/51649-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index aa79fd6..0000000 --- a/old/51649-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,47674 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Mysteries of London, v. 4/4, by George W. M. Reynolds - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Mysteries of London, v. 4/4 - Volume II, Second Series - -Author: George W. M. Reynolds - -Release Date: April 3, 2016 [EBook #51649] -Last Updated: August 27, 2017 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, V. 4/4 *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif, Wayne Hammond and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from scanned images of public domain -material from the Google Books project.) - - - - - - - - - -THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. - - - - - THE - - MYSTERIES OF LONDON. - - BY - - GEORGE W. M. REYNOLDS, - - AUTHOR OF “FAUST,” “PICKWICK ABROAD,” AND “ROBERT MACAIRE.” - - WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS. - - VOL. IV. - - VOL. II. SECOND SERIES. - - LONDON: - G. VICKERS, 334, STRAND. - - MDCCCXLVIII. - - -LONDON - -WALTER SULLY, BONNER HOUSE PRINTING OFFICE, SEACOAL LANE. - - - - -CONTENTS OF VOL. II. - - - PAGE - CHAPTER CX.--Continuation of the Black’s Visits to his - Prisoners 1 - - CXI.--A Conversation 5 - - CXII.--The Conversation concluded 10 - - CXIII.--Esther de Medina and Old Death 12 - - CXIV.--Old Death in the Dungeon 18 - - CXV.--Thomas Rainford 20 - - CXVI.-Old Death 22 - - CXVII.--An Explanatory Conversation 26 - - CXVIII.--The Insolvent Debtors’ Court 28 - - CXIX.--The Examination of Mr. Frank Curtis 32 - - CXX.--The Lapse of Nineteen Years 36 - - CXXI.--Mr. Hatfield 41 - - CXXII.--Two of the Reader’s Old Friends 44 - - CXXIII.--A Man of Business 46 - - CXXIV.--Charles Hatfield 48 - - CXXV.--The Projected Railway Company 53 - - CXXVI.--Elucidations 58 - - CXXVII.--The Wanderers 63 - - CXXVIII.--The Journey continued and concluded 67 - - CXXIX.--The Advertising Agent 73 - - CXXX.--Perdita 75 - - CXXXI.--The Syren’s Arts and Charms 80 - - CXXXII.--The Dangerous Sophistry of a Lovely Woman 86 - - CXXXIII.--A Throne Surrounded by Republican Institutions 88 - - CXXXIV.--A Painful Scene 94 - - CXXXV.--Charles Hatfield and Mrs. Fitzhardinge 99 - - CXXXVI.--Infatuation 101 - - CXXXVII.--Two more Old Acquaintances 107 - - CXXXVIII.--The Money-lender 109 - - CXXXIX.--The Miser alone in his Dwelling 112 - - CXL.--Fresh Scenes and More Troubles at Home 116 - - CXLI.--The Flight 120 - - CXLII.--The Dress-maker: a Love Story 123 - - CXLIII.--Conclusion of the History of a Dress-maker: - a Love Story 140 - - CXLIV.--Dover 144 - - CXLV.--A Mysterious Occurrence.--The Journey continued 148 - - CXLVI.--Two Unpleasant Lodgers 151 - - CXLVII.--The Captain’s Ludicrous Adventure 155 - - CXLVIII.--The Charterhouse 160 - - CXLIX.--A Strange Narrative 163 - - CL.--The Colonel and the Captain 168 - - CLI.--The Calm--The Tempest 170 - - CLII.--The Father, the Son, and the Son’s Wife 176 - - CLIII.--Father and Son 183 - - CLIV.--Mrs. Fitzhardinge 187 - - CLV.--The Mother and Daughter 190 - - CLVI.--The Half-brothers 195 - - CLVII.--Political Observations.--The Departure of - Charles Hatfield 199 - - CLVIII.--Mrs. Mortimer in London 202 - - CLIX.--Mrs. Mortimer’s Adventures continued 206 - - CLX.--The Husband and Wife 210 - - CLXI.--Agnes Vernon and her Father 213 - - CLXII.--Laura in Paris 217 - - CLXIII.--Laura and Rosalie 224 - - CLXIV.--Laura’s Amour 228 - - CLXV.--Lord William Trevelyan 232 - - CLXVI.--A Sketch of Two Brothers.--A Mystery 237 - - CLXVII.--The Lawyer 242 - - CLXVIII.--The Nobleman and the Lawyer 246 - - CLXIX.--A Scene 248 - - CLXX.--Agnes and Mrs. Mortimer 253 - - CLXXI.--Jack Rily, the Doctor 258 - - CLXXII.--A Maiden’s First Love 263 - - CLXXIII.--Hopes Fulfilled 266 - - CLXXIV.--A Night of Terrors 269 - - CLXXV.--The Haunted House in Stamford Street 274 - - CLXXVI.--Scenes in the Haunted House 277 - - CLXXVII.--History of the Haunted House in Stamford Street 282 - - CLXXVIII.--Conclusion of the History of the Haunted Houses 288 - - CLXXIX.--The Ghost.--Agnes and Mrs. Mortimer 307 - - CLXXX.--Agnes and Trevelyan 310 - - CLXXXI.--Explanations 314 - - CLXXXII.--Laura Mortimer’s New Intrigues 316 - - CLXXXIII.--An Unexpected Visit and a Dreaded Arrival 320 - - CLXXXIV.--Laura and her Mother.--Another Interruption 324 - - CLXXXV.--The Lawyer’s Head Clerk 327 - - CLXXXVI.--Dr. Swinton 331 - - CLXXXVII.--The Lunatic Asylum 333 - - CLXXXVIII.--The Confessions of a Lunatic 335 - - CLXXXIX.--Scenes in the Lunatic Asylum 346 - - CXC.--A Scene in a Cab 349 - - CXCI.--The Old Marquis and the Young Lord 352 - - CXCII.--Mrs. Mortimer in London again 356 - - CXCIII.--Jack Rily and Mrs. Mortimer 358 - - CXCIV.--Mother and Daughter again 363 - - CXCV.--Horrors 367 - - CXCVI.--Resolutions 370 - - CXCVII.--The Marquis of Delmour 372 - - CXCVIII.--Castelcicala 375 - - CXCIX.--The Marchioness of Delmour 378 - - CC.--Jack Rily and the Lawyer’s Clerk 382 - - CCI.--Mr. Heathcote and his Clerk 384 - - CCII.--Jack Rily and Vitriol Bob 388 - - CCIII.--The Bengal Arms--Renewed Wanderings 391 - - CCIV.--The Catastrophe 394 - - CCV.--The Castelcicalan Republic 397 - - CCVI.--Charles Hatfield in London again 399 - - CCVII.--Mr. Green’s Office 402 - - CCVIII.--Perdita, the Lost One 405 - - CCIX.--Mr. Green’s Mission 409 - - CONCLUSION OF VOL. II. (Second Series) 412 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. II. - -SECOND SERIES. - - - For Woodcut on page 1 see page 5 - - For Woodcut on page 9 see page 13 - - For Woodcut on page 17 see page 24 - - For Woodcut on page 25 see page 29 - - For Woodcut on page 33 see page 36 - - For Woodcut on page 41 see page 45 - - For Woodcut on page 49 see page 54 - - For Woodcut on page 57 see page 63 - - For Woodcut on page 65 see page 69 - - For Woodcut on page 73 see page 73 - - For Woodcut on page 81 see page 82 - - For Woodcut on page 89 see page 89 - - For Woodcut on page 97 see page 98 - - For Woodcut on page 105 see page 110 - - For Woodcut on page 113 see page 114 - - For Woodcut on page 121 see page 125 - - For Woodcut on page 129 see page 131 - - For Woodcut on page 137 see page 142 - - For Woodcut on page 145 see page 148 - - For Woodcut on page 153 see page 158 - - For Woodcut on page 161 see page 166 - - For Woodcut on page 169 see page 172 - - For Woodcut on page 177 see page 178 - - For Woodcut on page 185 see page 188 - - For Woodcut on page 193 see page 199 - - For Woodcut on page 201 see page 204 - - PERDITA 209 - - For Woodcut on page 217 see page 219 - - For Woodcut on page 225 see page 230 - - For Woodcut on page 233 see page 236 - - For Woodcut on page 241 see page 243 - - For Woodcut on page 249 see page 250 - - For Woodcut on page 257 see page 258 - - For Woodcut on page 265 see page 267 - - For Woodcut on page 273 see page 280 - - For Woodcut on page 281 see page 287 - - For Woodcut on page 289 see page 295 - - For Woodcut on page 297 see page 301 - - For Woodcut on page 305 see page 307 - - For Woodcut on page 313 see page 316 - - For Woodcut on page 321 see page 328 - - DR. SWINTON 329 - - For Woodcut on page 337 see page 342 - - For Woodcut on page 345 see page 348 - - For Woodcut on page 353 see page 355 - - For Woodcut on page 361 see page 367 - - For Woodcut on page 369 see page 370 - - For Woodcut on page 377 see page 383 - - For Woodcut on page 385 see page 392 - - For Woodcut on page 393 see page 399 - - For Woodcut on page 401 see page 408 - - For Woodcut on page 409 see page 413 - - - - -THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. - - -[Illustration] - - - - -CHAPTER CX. - -CONTINUATION OF THE BLACK’S VISITS TO HIS PRISONERS. - - -Having quitted the dungeon in which Josh Pedler was confined, the -Blackamoor proceeded to the next cell; but, instead of opening the -door, he merely drew back a small sliding-lid that covered a grated -trap, and the faint rays of a light streamed from the inside. - -“Tidmarsh,” said the Blackamoor, in a feigned tone, “has your mind -grown easier?” - -“Yes, sir--oh! yes,” replied the prisoner from the interior of his -dungeon. “Since you allowed me a light and good books, I have been -comparatively a happy man. I know that I deserve punishment--and it -seems to do me good to feel that I am atoning for my offences in this -manner. I am not afraid of being alone now; and when I put out my -light, I am not afraid of being in the dark.” - -“You pray with more composure?” said the Black, interrogatively. - -“Yes, sir--I can settle my mind to prayer now,” was the answer; “and I -am sure that my prayers are heard. But pray believe, sir, that I never -was so wicked--so very wicked as that bad man who kept me for years in -his employ. I know that I was too willing an instrument in his hands; -and I am sorry for it now. The thing that lays heaviest on my mind, is -the share I had in sending poor Tom Rain to the scaffold.” - -“You are sorry for that deed?” enquired the Black, in a low and -slightly tremulous tone. - -“Oh! God, forgive me!” exclaimed Tidmarsh, his voice expressing sincere -contrition. “I do indeed deeply--deeply deplore my share in that awful -business; and the ghost of poor Tom Rain used to haunt me when I was -first here. In fact, Tom Rain was ever uppermost in my thoughts; -and--strange though it may seem--it is not the less true, sir, that -your voice appeared to penetrate to my very soul, as if it was Tom Rain -himself that was speaking to me. But I have got over all those ideas -now--since I learnt to pray; and when I grow dull, I read the good -books you have lent me. Sometimes I study the Bible; and I find that -if I pore over it too much, it makes me melancholy. Then I turn to the -Travels and Voyages; and I become tranquil again.” - -“Should you not rejoice at any opportunity of retrieving your -character--even in your old age--and earning an honest livelihood for -yourself?” asked the Black. - -“Oh! if such a thing could be!” cried the man, in a tone of exultation. -“But, no--it is impossible!” he added, after a pause, and speaking in -an altered voice. “I have sinned too deeply in respect to poor Tom -Rain, to be able to hope for such happiness. God is punishing me in -this world, you being his instrument;--and yet I can scarcely call it -punishment, since you treat me with such kindness. There are times when -I even wish that I was more severely punished _here_, so that I might -expiate all my sins and feel certain about my fate in another world.” - -“God is full of forgiveness, Tidmarsh,” said the Black: “I feel that -He is,” he added in a somewhat enthusiastic manner. “The prospect -I distantly hinted at in respect to yourself, may possibly become -practicable. You are old--but you may still have many years to live; -and it would be wrong--it would be detestable not to give you a -full opportunity, sooner or later, of enabling you to testify your -contrition. But I cannot speak farther on this subject at present. -I have brought you some more books: one is a tale--‘_The Vicar of -Wakefield_’--the perusal of which will do you no harm. It will show you -how virtue, though suffering for a time, was rewarded at last. In a few -days I shall myself visit you again.” - -The Black closed the trap, and stood away from the door, which Wilton -now opened; and the basket furnished the prisoner with his provisions -and also with some volumes of good and beneficial reading. - -The visiting-party next proceeded to the cell in which Toby Bunce -and his wife were confined together; and here, as in the immediately -preceding instance, the Black spoke to them through a sliding trap, -from which a light also gleamed. - -“For three days have you now been together, after dwelling some time -apart,” said the Blackamoor, continuing to speak in a feigned tone; -“and I now conjure you to tell me truly whether you would rather be -thus in each other’s company, or separated as before?” - -“Oh! leave us together, sir--leave us together, I implore you!” cried -Mrs. Bunce, in a voice of earnest appeal. “We are now the best friends -in the world; and I have promised my husband never to say a cross word -unnecessarily to him again.” - -“She seems quite an altered woman, sir,” observed Toby. “But then----” - -“But then what?” demanded the Black, seeing that the man hesitated. - -“Well, sir--I will speak my mind free,” continued Bunce; “because I’m -no longer afraid to do so. I was going to say that p’rhaps it is this -loneliness in which we are placed that makes Betsy talk as she does; -and that if we was to be again together out of doors----” - -“You would not find me change, Toby,” interrupted the woman, but not -in a querulous manner. “I like to hear you read to me from the Bible, -and from the other good books that the gentleman has given us. I wish -we had passed more of our time in this way before we got into all this -trouble. But, pray, sir,” she added, turning towards the door, “do tell -me whether you mean to keep us here all our lives!” - -“You must ask me no questions, remember,” said the Black, in a mild -but firm tone. “I have told you this before. Learn to subdue all -impatience, and to become resigned and enduring. You have made others -suffer in the world;--you have been the agents and tools of a wicked -man;--and you now see that heaven is punishing you through the means of -one who has power thus to treat you.” - -“Oh! how I wish that I had never known that detestable Bones?” -exclaimed the woman, covering her face with her hands. - -“And how I wish that I had stuck to my trade in an honest manner!” -cried Toby Bunce, in a voice of unfeigned contrition. - -“Think of all that--repeat those sentences to each other--as often as -you can,” said the Blackamoor. “In the course of a few days I shall -visit you again.” - -With these words, he stood back from the door, which Wilton opened; and -the two inmates of the dungeon received supplies of wholesome food and -moral or instructive books. - -The party then proceeded farther along the subterranean passage from -which the various cells opened. - -“Do you mean, sir, to fulfil your intention of this night visiting -_him_?” enquired Cæsar, addressing his master in a low, faint, and -tremulous tone, as if he were a prey to some vague terror. - -The Blackamoor did not immediately answer the question; but, placing -his hand upon his brow, appeared to reflect profoundly for almost the -space of a minute. - -Wilton--who seemed acquainted, as well as Cæsar, with all his master’s -secrets--likewise surveyed the Black with mingled curiosity and -apprehension. - -“Yes!” at length exclaimed the mysterious personage; “I will now, -for the first time since he has been my prisoner here, hold personal -communication with Benjamin Bones!” - -The party proceeded in silence to a cell near the extremity of the long -subterranean passage; and on reaching it, the Black handed the lamp -to Cæsar, at the same time making a sign to that youth and the other -dependants to stand back so that no gleam of the light should penetrate -into the dungeon when the door was opened. They obeyed in profound -silence; and their master immediately entered the cell, closing the -door behind him with that rapidity which is exercised by a brute-tamer -when introducing himself into the cage of a wild beast. - -The interior of the dungeon was as dark as pitch,--so dark, that there -was not even that greyish appearance which obscurity frequently wears -to eyes accustomed to it. It was a darkness that might be felt,--a -darkness which seemed to touch and hang upon the visual organs like a -dense black mist. - -“Who is it?” demanded the sepulchral voice of Old Death, his tone -marked with a subdued ferocity and a sort of savage growling which -seemed to denote a rancorous hate and pent-up longings for bitter -vengeance against the author or authors of his solitary imprisonment. - -“I am the person who keeps you here,” answered the Black, studying to -adopt a voice even more feigned and unlike his natural tones than when -he was ere now addressing Tidmarsh and the Bunces. - -Still that voice had in it some peculiarity which appeared to touch -a chord that vibrated to the very core of Old Death’s heart; for he -evidently made a starting movement, as he said hoarsely and thickly, -“But who are you--a spectre or a living being? Tell me who you are!” - -“I am a living being like yourself,” was the reply, delivered in a -voice disguised in deeper modulations than before. “Are you afraid of -being visited by spectres?” - -There was a long pause, during which the deep silence was interrupted -only by the heavy breathing of Old Death, as if the utter darkness of -the place sate oppressively upon him. - -“Are you afraid of spectres, I ask?” demanded the Black, who was -leaning with folded arms against the door, and with his eyes in the -direction where he presumed Old Death to be seated; though not even the -faintest outline of his form could he trace amidst that black obscurity. - -“Bring me a light, or let me out--and I will answer all your -questions,” cried Benjamin Bones, his anxiety to obtain his freedom -giving a cadence of earnest appeal to his voice in spite of the -tremendous rage which his bosom cherished against the individual who -had proclaimed himself to be his gaoler. - -“Do you deserve mercy?--do you merit the indulgence of man?” asked the -Black, in a tone profoundly solemn. - -“What do you know of me?--who are you?--why did you have me brought -here?--and by what right do you keep me in this infernal place?” -demanded Old Death, rapidly and savagely. - -“Is it not a just retribution which makes you a prisoner in a -subterranean where you have often imprisoned others?” said the Black. - -“Then ’tis that miscreant Ellingham who has put me here!” exclaimed -Bones, in a tone which showed that he was quivering with rage. -“Demon!--fiend!--yes--you are Lord Ellingham--I thought I knew your -voice, although you tried to disguise it. At the first moment I -fancied--but that was stupid,--still it struck me that it was the voice -of Tom Rain which spoke. Ha! ha!” the old wretch chuckled with horrible -ferocity and savage glee--“I did for him--I did for him! I sent him -to the scaffold--I got him hanged--and now he is food for worms! -Ellingham--for I know you _are_ Lord Ellingham--I can have the laugh at -you, you devil, although you keep me here!” - -“Miserable old man,” said the Black, in a tone of deep pity, though -still disguised in modulation,--“are you insensible to the whisperings -of conscience?” - -“Yes--now that you are here!” cried Benjamin Bones, his clothes -rustling as if with the trembling nervousness of enraged excitement. -“You made me sell you these houses--you took them away from me by -force, as it were; and now you keep me a prisoner here. It is all -through vengeance that you do it--_you_ who pretended to be above all -thoughts or intentions of revenge!” - -“As God is my judge, I harbour no such sentiment towards you!” said the -Blackamoor, emphatically. “But will you converse tranquilly and calmly -with me?” - -“Well--I will try,” returned Old Death. “What do you want to say to me?” - -“To remind you that you are an old--very old man, and that you cannot -hope to live much longer----” - -“Fiend! would you kill me in cold blood!” interrupted Bones, in a sort -of shrieking, yelling tone that indicated mingled alarm and rage. - -“Had I intended to slay you, I might have done it when you were first -brought here as my prisoner,” answered the Black. “Rest satisfied on -that head----” - -“Then you do not mean to kill me?” exclaimed Old Death, with all the -hysterical joy of a coward soul, in spite of his natural and still -untamed ferocity. - -“Heaven forbid!” ejaculated the Blackamoor. - -“There--now ’tis the voice of Tom Rain once again!” cried Old Death, -evidently shuddering as he spoke. “But, no--I am a fool--you are the -Earl! Yes--tell me--are you not the Earl of Ellingham?” - -“No matter who I am,” was the solemn reply. “If you ask me questions, I -will immediately leave you.” - -“No--don’t go for a few minutes!” exclaimed Old Death, imploringly. “I -have been here a month,--yes--for I have counted the visits of your -men, who come, as they tell me, every night to bring me food,--and -I know that I have been here a month. In all that time I have only -exchanged a dozen words with human beings--and--and--this solitude is -horrible!” - -“You have leisure to ponder on all your crimes,” said the Black. - -“Who made you my judge?” demanded Old Death, with a return of his -ferocity of tone and manner. “If you want me to confess all my sins, -and will then set me free, I will do it,” he added in a somewhat -ironical way. - -“Confession is useless, without true repentance,” observed the -Blackamoor. “Besides, all your misdeeds are known to me,--your -behaviour to your half-sister, Octavia Manners, years ago--your -treatment of poor Jacob Smith--your machinations to destroy Thomas -Rainford----” - -“Then, by all this, am I convinced that you _are_ the Earl of -Ellingham!” cried Old Death. “Ah! my lord,” he immediately added, in -a voice which suddenly changed to a tone of earnest appeal, “do not -keep me here any longer! Let me go--and I will leave London for ever! -Reflect, my lord--I am an old man--a very old man,--you yourself said -so just now,--and you are killing me by keeping me here. Send me out of -the country--any where you choose, however distant--and I will thank -you: but again I say, do not keep me here.” - -“When the savage animal goes about preying upon the weak and unwary, he -should be placed under restraint,” said the Blackamoor. “You are not -repentant, Benjamin Bones! A month have you been here--a month have you -been allowed to ponder upon your enormities,--and still your soul is -obdurate. Not many minutes have elapsed since you gloried in one of the -most infamous deeds of your long and wicked life.” - -“I spoke of Tom Rain to annoy you--because I was enraged with you -for keeping me here,” returned Old Death, hastily. “There have been -moments,” he added, after a short pause, “when I have felt sorry for -what I did in that respect. I would not do so over again--no, my lord, -I assure you I would not! I wish your poor half-brother was alive -now--I would not seek to injure him, even if I had the power.” - -“You speak thus because you have been alone and in the dark,” observed -the Blackamoor, in a mournful voice: “but were you restored to -freedom--to the enjoyment of the light of God’s own sun--and to the -possession of the power of following your career of iniquity, you would -again glory in that dreadful deed.” - -“No,” answered Old Death: “I am sorry for it. I know that my nature is -savage and ferocious: but will you tame me by cruelty? And your keeping -me here is downright cruelty--and nothing more or less. It makes me -vindictive--it makes me feel at times as if I hated you.” - -“I shall keep you here, nevertheless, for some time longer--aye, and -in the dark,” returned the Blackamoor; “because you seek not to subdue -your revengeful feelings. It is terrible to think that so old a man -should be so inveterately wicked. Do you know that your gang is broken -up--rendered powerless? In the cells of this subterranean are Timothy -Splint--Joshua Pedler--Mrs. Bunce and her husband--and your agent, -Tidmarsh.” - -“Then I have no hope _from without_!” growled Old Death, his garments -again rustling with a movement of savage impatience; and for an instant -it struck the Blackamoor that he could see two ferocious eyes gleaming -in the dark--but this was doubtless the mere fancy of the moment. - -“Yes,--you are beyond the reach of human aid, unless by _my_ will -and consent,” said the Blackamoor. “Your late companions or tools in -iniquity are all housed safely here;--and, what is more, they are -penitent. Listen for a moment, Benjamin Bones; and may the information -I am about to give you, prove an instructive lesson. Timothy Splint -is at this instant reading the Bible, therein to search for hope and -consolation, which God does not deny to the worst sinners when they are -truly penitent. Joshua Pedler is occupying himself in writing a letter -of advice to a young girl who became his mistress, whom he drove to -prostitution, but who is now earning her livelihood in a respectable -manner. Tidmarsh deplores the folly which made him your instrument; -and he is reading good books. Bunce and his wife are together in the -same dungeon; and the woman is rapidly yielding up to her husband that -empire which she had usurped. They too regret that they ever knew you; -and the Bible is their solace. Of six persons whom I imprisoned in this -place which was once your own property, five are already repentant: -you, who are the sixth, alone remain obdurate and hardened.” - -“And my old friends curse me!” moaned the ancient miscreant, his voice -seeming more hollow and sepulchral than ever, as if he were covering -his face with his hands. “What--the people who owe so much to me--the -Bunces--Tidmarsh----” - -“Would not speak to you, unless it were to convert you,” added the -Black. “Thus, you perceive, you--who, in the common course of nature, -are of all the six the nearest to the threshold of the tomb,--you, who -have so many years upon your head, and such deep and manifold crimes to -expiate,--_you_, Benjamin Bones,” continued the warning voice, “are the -last to show the slightest--the faintest sign of penitence. Is not this -deplorable? And even now you appear to regret that your late companions -in crime should be in their hearts thus alienated from you. Doubtless -you trusted to the chapter of accidents--to the hazard of chances to -enable them to discover your place of imprisonment and effect your -rescue?” - -Old Death groaned heavily, in spite of himself. - -“Yes:--such was your hope--such was your idea,” resumed the Black; -“and now you are unmanned by disappointment. Even your friend Jeffreys -turned against you--he led you into the snare which I set for you--he -will not raise an arm to save you from my power. He does not even know -where you are.” - -“Then I am abandoned by all the world!” shrieked forth the wretched -miscreant, unable to subdue the agonising emotions which this -conviction excited within him. - -“He who finds himself abandoned by all the world, should throw himself -upon his Maker,” said the Blackamoor. - -“There--there--’tis the voice of Rainford again!” cried Old Death, -evidently seized with ineffable terror. “But, no--no--you are the Earl -of Ellingham--you must be the Earl! Yet why do you every now and then -imitate the tone of Tom Rain? Is it to frighten me, my lord? Tell -me--is it to frighten me?” - -“You seem inaccessible to fear of any kind,” answered the Black,--“I -mean a fear which may be permanent and salutary. You have occasional -qualms of conscience, which you cannot altogether resist, but which -almost immediately pass away. Have you no wish to make your peace with -heaven? Would you pray with a clergyman, were one to visit you?” - -“No:--I am unfit for prayer--I should not have the patience to stand -the questioning of a clergyman,” answered Old Death hastily: then, -almost immediately afterwards, he said, “But I was wrong to give such -a reply! Yes--send me a clergyman--let him bring a light--do any thing -to relieve me from this solitude and this darkness. My lord--for I -know that you are the Earl of Ellingham--pray take compassion upon -me! I am an old--a very old man, my lord; and I cannot endure this -confinement. I told you just now that I was sorry for what I did to -your brother-in-law; and you know that I cannot recall him to life. -Neither will you do so by killing me. Have mercy upon me, then, my -lord: let me leave this horrible place----” - -“To enter the great world again, and renew your course of crime?” -interrupted the Black. “No--Benjamin Bones, that may not be! Let me -first become assured that you sincerely and truly repent of your -misdeeds--let me be impressed with the conviction that you are sorry -for the crimes which have marked your long life,--and then--_then_, -we will speak of ameliorating your condition. For the present, do not -consider me as your enemy--do not look upon me as a man acting towards -you from vindictive motives only. No:--for were I inclined to vent -on you a miserable spite or a fiendish malignity, the means are not -deficient. I might keep you without food for days together--but each -day your provender is renewed: or I might even kill you outright--and -yet I would not violently injure a hair of your head! To-morrow evening -I will visit you again: in the meantime endeavour to subdue your -feelings so that you may then speak to me without irritation.” - -With these words the Black abruptly thrust the door open, and quitted -the dungeon; but at that instant Cæsar, who had been pacing up and down -with Wilton in the immediate vicinity of that particular cell, was so -close to the entrance that the light of the lamp which he carried in -his hand streamed full upon the countenance of his master as the latter -sprang forth from the deep darkness of Old Death’s prison-house. - -The glare for a moment showed the interior of the dungeon; and the -Black, mechanically turning his eyes towards the place where he -presumed Benjamin Bones to be, caught a rapid glimpse of the hideous -old man, seated--or rather crouched on his bed, his hands clasped -round his knees, and his form so arched that his knees and chin almost -appeared to meet. - -In another instant the dungeon-door was closed violently by the -Blackamoor, who, as he locked and barred it, said in a low and somewhat -reproachful tone to Cæsar, “You should not have been so incautious as -to throw the light upon me just as I was leaving the cell. Old Death -had time, even in that single moment during which the glare flashed -upon my countenance, to observe me distinctly.” - -“I am truly sorry, sir, that I should have been go imprudent,” answered -Cæsar, in a tone of vexation at his fault. “But it is impossible that -he could recognise you.” - -“I believe so,” observed the Black: “and therefore we will say no -more upon the subject. The old man remains obdurate and hardened,” he -continued, still speaking in a low whisper; “and yet I have hopes of -him as well as of the others.” - -Wilton supplied Benjamin Bones with provisions through the trap in -his dungeon-door; and the party then quitted the subterranean by -the mode of egress communicating with the house in Red Lion Street, -Clerkenwell--for the reader now perceives, as indeed he may long ago -have conjectured, that the Black’s dwelling was established in the -quarters lately tenanted by Old Death. - - - - -CHAPTER CXI. - -A CONVERSATION. - - -Pass we over another month--eight weeks having now elapsed since the -six prisoners were first consigned to their dungeons, and four weeks -from the date of those visits the description of which has occupied the -two proceeding chapters. - -It was between nine and ten o’clock in the evening; and the Blackamoor -was seated in his apartment, looking over some letters, when Cæsar -ushered in Dr. Lascelles. - -“Good evening, my dear sir,” said the Blackamoor, shaking the worthy -physician cordially by the hand. “Be seated--and Cæsar will bring us a -bottle of that claret which you so much admire. I am delighted that you -have at length found time to give me an hour or two, in order that I -may enter into full and complete explanations of certain matters----” - -“I understand--I understand,” interrupted the doctor, good humouredly. -“Your theory has proved to me more practical than I expected: but I -shall not say any more about it until you have given me all the details -of its progress. And before you begin, I must observe that the case -which took me out of town six weeks ago, and has kept me at Brighton -all the time, has ended most satisfactorily. I have effected a complete -cure.” - -“I am delighted to hear tidings so glorious from you, doctor,” said the -Black. “A case which had baffled all the physicians who had previously -been concerned in it, is now conducted to a successful issue by -yourself. It will wondrously and deservedly increase your reputation, -great as that fame already was.” - -“My dear friend,” replied the physician, “without for a moment seeking -to recall any thing unpleasant connected with the past, I must inform -you that galvanism was the secret of the grand cure which I have -effected. But let us pass on to another subject,” exclaimed the doctor -hastily, as if considerately turning the discourse from a disagreeable -topic. “I have been absent for six weeks--quite a strange thing for me, -who am so wedded to London; and you are one of the very first of my -friends on whom I call. All day long I have been paying hurried visits -to my patients; and now I come to sit a couple of hours with you. I -suppose you have plenty of news for me?” - -“None of any consequence beyond the sphere of my own affairs in this -place,” answered the Black. “You are of course aware that the Earl has -made Esther an offer of his hand----” - -“To be sure, my dear friend,” interrupted Lascelles: “that engagement -was contracted, you remember, two or three weeks before I left London, -when summoned to Brighton. But I presume that the Earl is still -ignorant of----” - -“All my proceedings?” exclaimed the Black, finishing the sentence for -the physician. “Yes--he remains completely in the dark respecting -every thing. The time may, however, soon come when he shall be made -acquainted with all; and then I do not think he will blame me.” - -“Far from it!” cried Lascelles, emphatically: “he doubtless owes you -his happiness, if not his life--for there is no telling what that -miscreant, Old Death, might not have done to gratify his frightful -cravings for vengeance. The monster!” exclaimed the physician, -indignantly: “he would even have inflicted the most terrible outrages -and wrongs upon the amiable Esther and the generous-souled Lady -Hatfield, in order to wound the heart of the Earl.” - -“And yet I do not despair of reforming that man, bad as he is,” -observed the Black. - -“Reform the Devil!” cried the doctor. “But I will not anticipate by any -hasty opinion of mine the explanations which you are going to give me. -By the bye, have you had any intelligence relative to that Mr. Torrens?” - -“Yes,” answered the Black. “Esther received a letter from his daughter -Rosamond a few days ago. The poor girl and her father were on their way -to Switzerland, where they intended to settle in some secluded spot. -The old gentleman is worn down and spirit-broken; and Rosamond states -that she is afraid he is oppressed with some secret care beyond those -with which she is acquainted.” - -“And your man Jeffreys?” said Lascelles, interrogatively. - -“The next time you visit Hackney, doctor,--should your professional -avocations take you to that suburb,” replied the Blackamoor, “forget -not to look out for the most decent grocer’s shop in Mare Street; and -over the door you will see the name of JOHN JEFFREYS. He entered the -establishment only a few days ago; and I believe he is a reformed man. -I tried his fidelity as well as his steadiness in many ways, during -the last two months; and I have every reason to entertain the best -hopes relative to him. At all events, he has every chance of earning -an honest and good living; for he has purchased an old-established -business, which Wilton previously ascertained to be a profitable -concern.” - -“Have you heard or seen anything lately of our friend Sir Christopher -Blunt?” enquired the physician, laughing as he spoke. - -“I have not seen him since that memorable night when he fulfilled the -duties of a magistrate in this room,” answered the Black, smiling: -“but I have occasionally heard of him. He is so puffed up with pride -in consequence of the importance which he derived from his adventure -here, that he looks upon himself as a perfect demigod. By the bye, -I saw an advertisement in this day’s papers, announcing the speedy -publication of the ‘_The Life and Times of Sir Christopher Blunt. By -Jeremiah Lykspittal, Esq. With numerous Portraits; and containing a -mass of interesting correspondence between the Subject of the Biography -and the most Eminent Deceased Men of the present Century._’ So ran the -advertisement.” - -“At which you of course laughed heartily,” exclaimed the doctor. “But -here is Cæsar with the wine--and long enough he has been in fetching it -up, too.” - -The lad made some excuse, placed the decanters and glasses on the -table, and then withdrew. - -“Now for the promised explanations, my friend,” cried the physician, as -he helped himself to the purple juice of Bordeaux. - -“First,” began the Blackamoor, “I shall speak to you of the six -prisoners generally--or rather of my system, as applied to them. My -belief originally was that bad men should become to a certain extent -the reformers of themselves through the medium of their own thoughts. -It is not sufficient, I reasoned within myself, that criminals should -be merely placed each night in a situation to think and reflect, and -then enjoy the light of the glorious day again. A night’s meditations -may be poignant and provocative of a remorse of a salutary kind: -but when the day dawns, the mind becomes hardened again, and all -disagreeable redactions fly away. The most guilty wretches fear not -spectres in the day-time: ’tis in the darkness and silence of the night -that phantoms haunt them. In a word, then, the natural night is not -long enough to make an impression so deep that the ensuing day can not -easily obliterate it.” - -“Good!” exclaimed the physician: “I follow you attentively.” - -“These considerations,” resumed the Black, “led me to the conclusion -that a wicked man’s thoughts could only be rendered available as a -means to induce sincere repentance and excite a permanent remorse, -by extending their train to a long, long period. If a night of a few -short hours’ duration would produce a very partial and limited effect -upon the mind of a criminal, I reasoned--why not make _a night_ of -many weeks, and hope for a proportionately grand and striking result? -Accordingly, I resolved to subject those six prisoners to the test; and -I will now give you a detailed account of the consequences.” - -“Proceed,” said the physician: “I am becoming deeply interested.” - -“The six prisoners were each placed in a separate cell, and not allowed -any light in the first instance,” continued the Blackamoor. “Each -dungeon was plainly but comfortably furnished; and every evening they -were supplied with a sufficiency of food for four-and-twenty hours. -They were ordered to perform their ablutions regularly under pain of -having their meat stopped; and you may be sure that they did not fail -to obey the command. Twice a week the men were shaved by one of my -people; and twice a week also they were supplied with clean linen. The -woman was of course provided with additional changes; and as her health -was more likely to suffer than that of the men, I allowed her to walk -up and down the long subterranean for two hours each day, watched by -Wilton so that she might not communicate with either of the prisoners. -But I am now about to enter on details connected with each individual.” - -The physician drew his chair a little closer to the Black. - -“Tidmarsh was the first who showed any signs of contrition,” resumed -the latter. “He could not endure that one, long, endless _night_ -into which I had plunged him,--a night interrupted only by the short -and regular visits of myself or my people. He was ever alone with -his own thoughts, which no intervals of a long day broke in upon: -the impression created by his thoughts was ever in his mind--the -_continuous night_ kept that impression _there_! By degrees he began to -see the error of his ways--and, when his thoughts were on one occasion -intolerable, and his imagination was filled with frightful images, -he had recourse to prayer. The next time I visited him he assured me -that his prayers had relieved him, but that he could not sufficiently -settle his mind to pray so often as he desired. That was the moment -to give this man a light; and I did so. At the same time I offered -him his choice between the Bible and a Tale-book; and he chose the -former with unaffected readiness. Had he selected the latter, I should -have seen that he craved for amusement only--and he would have had -neither lamp nor books until he had gone through a farther ordeal of -his lonely thoughts in utter darkness. Well--this Tidmarsh, by the aid -of the light, was enabled to study the Bible and settle his soul to -prayer. But a continual and unvaried perusal of the Bible is calculated -to render the mind morbid, and convert a sinner into a grossly -superstitious fanatic. Accordingly, when I saw that Tidmarsh began to -grow gloomy--which was in a very few days--I gave him books of Travels -and Voyages; and his soul was refreshed by the change. The improvement -in that man was far more rapid than I could have possibly anticipated. -During my visits to him, I tested his sincerity in a variety of -ways,--by means of questions so artfully contrived as to admit of -two kinds of answers: namely, one kind hypocritical, and the other -sincere--and at the same time implying a sort of promise of release if -the hypocritical reply were given. But I found him straight-forward -and truly conscientious in his answers. In due time I allowed him -such novels as ‘_The Vicar of Wakefield_,’ ‘_Paul and Virginia_,’ -‘_Elizabeth, or the Exiles of Siberia_,’ to read: but I found that he -preferred the Travels, Voyages, and Biographies of good or great men. -Indeed, scarcely six weeks had elapsed from the date of that man’s -incarceration in the dungeon, when I felt convinced that he was so far -a reformed character as to be anxious to earn an honest livelihood -if he were only afforded the chance. Then I removed him from his -dungeon, and lodged him in a room up stairs. He was still in reality -a prisoner, because any attempt to escape on his part would have been -immediately detected--so narrowly yet secretly was he watched. To him, -however, it must have seemed that he was free: but he never evinced the -least inclination to avail himself of the apparent liberty which he -enjoyed. Every circumstance spoke in that man’s favour; and the night -before last he was sent off, in company with one of my dependants, to -Portsmouth, whence they embarked together for the little island of -Alderney, where Tidmarsh is to settle in a small way of business, to -establish which the means will be found him. My retainer will remain -for a few weeks--or perhaps months--so as thoroughly to watch his -conduct; and if during that period, and in a place where there are no -evil temptations, he manifests an uniform steadiness of conduct, I -think we may safely calculate that there is no fear of a relapse.” - -“And all this has been effected in two short months!” exclaimed the -physician, with a tone and manner indicative of mingled surprise and -admiration. “I could scarcely have believed it possible.” - -“Listen to my next case, doctor,” said the Black; “and you will -see that my system is most salutary. I shall speak of the two -Bunces collectively. The man Bunce I always looked upon rather as -a soft-pated, hen-pecked fool than a radically wicked fellow; and -accordingly, the moment he began to exhibit very serious alarm and -horror at being alone and in the dark, I gave him a lamp and the -Bible. The _length of night_ which I made him endure was not more than -two-thirds of a week. In respect to his wife, the first demonstration -of repentance which she showed, was in a desire to speak to her husband -if only for a few minutes and through the trap-door of his cell. Of -course I issued orders that the request should be complied with; and -it was evident that the woman derived comfort from this indulgence. -Next day she was permitted to converse with him at the trap-door for -nearly half an hour; and then she was overheard begging his pardon for -the ill-treatment which he had so often endured at her hands. For many, -many successive days this short intercourse was allowed them; and on -one occasion, Toby Bunce read her a few verses from the Bible, he being -in his cell with the lamp, and she standing outside his door in the -dark subterranean passage. The manner in which she received the passage -thus read to her, induced me to order that she also should be provided -with a light and a Testament: for the _night_ which she endured, and -which could scarcely be said to have been even interrupted by the daily -walk in the dark passage, was just _three weeks_. It gave me pain, -doctor--oh! it gave me pain, I can assure you, to punish that woman so -severely: but her mind was very obdurate--her heart very hardened;--and -darkness was long before it produced on her the effect which I desired. -At length, a few days after she had been allowed a lamp,--and a little -more than one month ago--I yielded to her earnest entreaties that she -might be lodged with her husband. Then what a change had taken place -in her! She was tamed--completely tamed,--no longer a vixenish shrew, -but questioning her husband mildly and in a conciliating tone relative -to the passages of the Bible, or the Travels and other instructive -books, which he had read to her. Good feelings appeared to establish -themselves rapidly between this couple. I had them put to several -tests. On one occasion Wilton persuaded Toby Bunce that he was not -looking very well, and some little luxury was added to the evening’s -supply of food, it being intimated that the extra dish was expressly -for himself. Wilton remained near the cell, and listened to what passed -within. Bunce insisted upon sharing the delicacy with his wife; and -she would not hear of such a proposal. He urged his offer--she was -positive; and in this point she once again showed a resolution of -her own, but not in a manner to give her husband offence. The very -next day--this was a week ago--I had the pair removed to a chamber -over-head, giving them the same apparent chance of escape as in the -case of Tidmarsh. They did not however seek to avail themselves of it; -and yesterday evening they were separated again--but only for a short -time. In fact, Bunce was last night sent off to Southampton, in company -with one of my people; and thence they doubtless embarked for the -island of Sark this morning. Mrs. Bunce will leave presently, guarded -by my faithful dependant Harding and his wife, who will not only take -her to rejoin her husband in the little islet opposite Guernsey, but -will also stay with them there for a period of six months. Bunce will -follow his trade as a tailor, Harding finding a market for the clothes -which he makes in St. Peter’s Port, which is the capital of Guernsey, -as you are well aware.” - -“So far, so good,” exclaimed the physician, highly delighted with -these explanations. “Should your system produce results permanently -beneficial, you may become a great benefactor to the human race; for -it is assuredly far better to reform the wicked by a course of a few -weeks’ training by playing upon their feelings in this manner, than to -subject them to the contamination of a felons’ gaol and inflict years -of exile under circumstances which are utterly repugnant to all hopes -of reformation. But pray answer me one question. Should either of these -Bunces, or Tidmarsh choose to resist the control and authority of your -dependants who have charge of them at present--and should any one of -those quasi-prisoners demand their unconditional freedom--how can your -men exercise a power or sway over them?” - -“These quasi-prisoners, as you term them,” answered the Black, -“have not, as a matter of course, the least idea who I really am. -Their minds, somewhat attenuated by their incarceration and all the -mysterious circumstances of their captivity, are to a certain extent -over-awed. They know that they have been, and still believe themselves -to be, in the power of one who wields an authority which they cannot -comprehend; and fear alone, if no better motive, therefore renders -them tractable. This ensures their obedience and their silence at -least for the present. Eventually, when they again become accustomed -to freedom, they will find themselves placed in a position to earn an -honest and very comfortable livelihood--care being taken to keep alive -in their minds the conviction that the business which produces them -their bread and enables them to live respectably, only remains their -own so long as they prove worthy of enjoying its advantages. Now, my -calculations and beliefs are these:--People who have entered upon a -course of crime, continue in it because it is very difficult, and often -impossible, to leave it for honest pursuits. But when once they have -experienced the dreadful effects of crime, and are placed in a way to -act and labour honestly, very few indeed would _by choice_ relapse -into evil courses. Therefore, I conclude and hope that the Bunces on -the one hand, and Tidmarsh on the other, will, if from mere motives of -policy and convenience alone, steadily continue in that honest path in -which they are now placed, and the advantages of which they will soon -experience.” - -“Good again,” said that doctor. “If your calculations only applied to -six criminals out of ten, you would be effecting an immense good by -means of your system. But I hope and indeed am inclined to believe that -the proportion in your favour is even larger.” - -“I am certain that it is,” answered the Blackamoor. “Well, I now come -to Timothy Splint--the man, who, as you may remember, was the actual -assassin of Sir Henry Courtenay.” - -“If you succeed in redeeming that fellow,” exclaimed the physician, “I -shall say that your system can have no exceptions. Stay, though!” he -cried, a thought striking him;--“I had forgotten Old Death. Ah! my dear -friend, you may as well endeavour to tame the boa-constrictor, as to -reform that dreadful man.” - -“You shall hear of him in his turn,” said the Black, his tone assuming -a slight degree of mournfulness, as if he were less satisfied in -respect to the application of his system to Old Death, than in either -of the other cases. “For the present,” he observed, “you must have -patience enough to listen to certain details relative to Timothy -Splint.” - -“Go on, my dear friend,” cried Dr. Lascelles. “I am all attention--and -patience too, for that matter. Your narrative is too interesting to be -tedious.” - -“Timothy Splint,” continued the Blackamoor, “appeared to suffer more -horribly from the darkness than all the others. The spectre of the -murdered baronet was constantly by his side, and even prevented him -from committing self-destruction. For a whole month did his _night_ -continue; and during that period he must have endured the most -frightful mental tortures. This was all the better: such a state of -mind naturally drove the man to pray;--and prayer relieved him. I -remember how touchingly, although in his rude style, he assured me -one evening that when he prayed the spectre grew less and less. Now, -notwithstanding I was well pleased to find him in this frame of mind, -I did not choose to encourage superstitious notions: and therefore I -explained to him that the only apparitions which existed were those -that were conjured up by a guilty conscience. At the expiration of, I -think, exactly thirty-one days, I allowed this man a light and a Bible. -Then I pursued the same treatment with him as in respect to Tidmarsh -and the Bunces: I mean, I gave him books of Travels and Voyages and -moral Tales. He seemed very grateful--not only seemed, but really was; -and his hard heart was melted by my kind treatment. A few days ago, he -gave me the outlines of his early life; and I found that circumstances -had driven him into the ways of crime. His reformation was, therefore, -all the easier; because he had a youth of innocence to look back upon -and regret. He moreover assured me that even with his late companion in -crime, Josh Pedler, he had frequently spoken, in mournful mood, of the -unhappiness which often marks the hours of men of lawless character; -and, all these circumstances tended to give strength and consistency to -his declarations that he longed--deeply longed to have an opportunity -of earning an honest livelihood for the future. What to do with him -I scarcely knew. Whenever I reflected on this subject, I remembered -that he was a murderer--stained with the blood of a fellow-creature; -and his case was therefore widely different from that of the Bunces -and Tidmarsh. At length it struck me that emigration to a far-distant -land was the only fitting course to adopt; and I proposed it to him. -He was rejoiced at the idea; for he instantly saw how, by changing his -name, and commencing the world anew in another sphere, he should be -removed from old haunts where either unpleasant reminiscences would -be awakened, or temptations present themselves. Moreover, he beheld -the necessity of repairing to some part of the earth where he stood no -chance of being recognised by either friend or foe. His consent to my -proposed arrangement being thus obtained, and all his best hopes and -feelings being warmly enlisted in the plan, I had then to ascertain -whether any one of my dependants would consent to accompany such a -man on a long voyage and to a far-off clime. Fortunately my enquiries -amongst my retainers were followed by success; and at a very early hour -this morning Timothy Splint and his guardian, or rather companion, -set off for Liverpool, thence to embark for the United States. There, -in the backwoods of the Far West, let us hope that this man--this -murderer, whom the savage law would have _hanged_,”--and the Blackamoor -shuddered, as he pronounced the word,--“let us hope, I say, that -Timothy Splint will some day rise into a substantial farmer, and that -he may yet live to bless the period when he went through the ordeal of -the subterranean dungeon.” - -The Black paused, and drank a glass of the cooling claret; for his -mouth had grown parched by the simple fact of giving utterance to _that -one word_ on which he had shudderingly laid so great an emphasis. The -physician, who appeared to guess full well what was passing in his -mind, made no remark; and in a few moments the other continued his -explanations in the ensuing manner:-- - -[Illustration] - -“I now come to Joshua Pedler. His disposition is naturally savage and -brutal; and _a long night of darkness_ produced on him effects which -varied at different periods. His thoughts were dreadful to him; and -sometimes, when I visited him, he would at first speak ferociously. -But a kind word on my part immediately reduced him to meekness. He -had not been many days in the dungeon when, doubtless encouraged by -my manner towards him, he told me that he was not only unhappy on his -own account, but also on that of a young woman whom he had married -according to the rights of the vile class with which he had so long -herded. I immediately undertook to provide for the girl; and Pedler -really demonstrated a sincere gratitude. You need scarcely be told that -I kept my promise. Wilton sought her out; and she was found in a state -of starvation and despair. A comfortable lodging was taken for her; -and when she was somewhat restored to health, needle-work was supplied -her. But all this was done without allowing her to believe that any -other circumstance beyond a mere accidental discovery of her wretched -condition had thus rendered her the object of Wilton’s charity. The -assurance which I gave Pedler that Matilda was provided for, had a most -salutary effect upon his mind; although he frequently afterwards showed -signs of savage impatience. The tenour of his thoughts was chiefly a -regret that he had been so foolish as to pursue an evil career. He -reproached himself for the folly of his wickedness, rather than for -the wickedness itself, he disliked solitude and darkness, but was not -so much influenced by fears as his late companion, Splint. During -the first month he remained in darkness, and never once spoke to me -of prayer. Two or three times he alluded to the Bible, but did not -express a wish to read it. At last he admitted to me his conviction -that the thoughts which oppressed him were beneficial to him, though -most unpleasant. I fancied this to be a favourable opportunity to test -his worthiness to receive some indulgence. I accordingly asked him -if he would like to be able to write to Matilda. My calculation was -just: I had touched him in a vulnerable point;--and he was that night -allowed a lamp and writing-materials. Moreover, on that very occasion, -he shed tears; and I no longer despaired of taming the last remnants of -ferocity which lingered in his nature. A few days afterwards he gave -me a letter to send to Matilda. Of course I opened and read it; for it -was to obtain a precise insight into the real state of his mind that -I had suggested the correspondence with his mistress. The contents of -that document confirmed the hopes I already entertained of him; and -I saw that his affection for that young woman might be made a most -humanizing means in respect to him. I accordingly had her brought into -this house, and lodged in one of the attics. Then I broke to her as -gently as possible the fact that Joshua Pedler was my prisoner. I shall -not pause to describe her joy at receiving intelligence concerning -him; suffice it to say that she read his letter with tearful eyes, and -gladly consented to reply to it. In the evening I took her answer to -the prisoner; and he wept over it like a child. I then knew that his -reformation was a certainty. Two or three days afterwards, he begged -me to allow him a Bible; and his request was of course complied with. -The correspondence that passed between him and Matilda was frequent and -lengthy; and, that he might feel himself under no restraint, I assured -him that I neither saw his letters nor his replies. ’Twas a falsehood -on my part--but a necessary, and therefore an innocent one. For I _did_ -peruse all this correspondence; and Matilda was aware of the fact by -which I was enabled to watch the gradual but sudden change that was -taking place in the mind of that man. At length I perceived that I -might in safety think of providing for him elsewhere; and I was as much -embarrassed how to accomplish this aim, as I was in the case of Timothy -Splint. But in the midst of my bewilderment I happened to notice an -advertisement in a daily newspaper, stating that by a particular day -two men, or a man and his wife, were required to undertake the care -of Eddystone Light-house. You may start with surprise, doctor--you -may even smile: but I assure you that this advertisement appeared -most providentially to concur with the object I had in view. Without -a moment’s delay I spoke to Matilda respecting the matter; and she -expressed her readiness to follow my advice in all things, so long as -there was a prospect of her being reunited to Josh Pedler. Her consent -being procured, it was no difficult task to obtain that of the man. -On the contrary, he accepted the proposal with joy and thankfulness. -Wilton soon made the necessary enquiries and arrangements; and at this -moment Joshua Pedler and the young woman are the sole inmates of the -Eddystone Light-house!” - -“Thus, my dear friend,” said the physician, counting the names of -the persons upon his fingers, “you have disposed of Tidmarsh in -Alderney--the Bunces are to go to Sark--Splint is bound as an emigrant -to the Far West--and Joshua Pedler is on the Eddystone rock.” - -“And Pedler is the only one who is unaccompanied by an agent of mine,” -observed the Black; “because Matilda is a good young woman; and I can -rely upon her. Moreover I should tell you that I procured a license -for them; and Wilton saw them legally married at Plymouth, before they -embarked for the Light-house.” - -“I congratulate you upon the success of your projects thus far,” said -the physician. “It is truly wonderful how admirably you have managed -thus to redeem and satisfactorily dispose of some of the greatest -villains that ever lurked in the low dens of this metropolis. But now, -my friend, I wish to hear something of that arch-miscreant, Old Death.” - -At this moment the door opened; and one of the Black’s dependants -entered the room. - -“The woman Bunce, sir,” he said, “is most anxious to communicate -something to you before she quits London. She declares that she has a -secret preying upon her mind----” - -“A secret?” exclaimed the Black. - -“Yes, sir--a secret which she says she must reveal to you, as it is too -heavy for her heart to bear. She cried a great deal, and implored me to -come to you.” - -“Doctor,” said the Blackamoor, after a few moments’ profound -reflection, “you know wherefore I do not wish that woman to behold my -features--even though they be thus disguised. During her incarceration -I never spoke to her save through the trap of her dungeon door; and -since she has been an inmate of the house I have not visited her. It -will be as well to continue this precaution: do you, then, hasten to -her and receive the confession, whatever it be, which she has to make.” - -“Willingly,” replied Lascelles; and he followed the servant from the -room. - - - - -CHAPTER CXII. - -THE CONVERSATION CONCLUDED. - - -Upwards of a quarter of an hour had elapsed, when Dr. Lascelles -returned to the apartment in which he had left the Blackamoor. - -“Yes,” exclaimed the physician, throwing himself into the chair which -he had recently occupied; “that woman is indeed penitent--truly -penitent!” - -“What proof have you acquired of this fact, doctor?” demanded the Black. - -“The confession which she has just made to me--or rather the motive -which induced her to make it,” answered Lascelles. “But not to keep -you in suspense, my dear friend, she has revealed something which only -confirms a suspicion that you yourself had long ago entertained, if I -remember right.” - -“And that suspicion----” - -“Is relative to Jacob Smith,” added Lascelles. - -“Ah! the woman has confessed it?” exclaimed the Blackamoor. - -“She has confessed that Jacob Smith is her own son, and that Benjamin -Bones is his father,” replied the physician, in a solemn tone. - -“My God! what a parent that man has been!” cried the Black, his brows -contracting, and his voice indicating the emotions of horror that -were suddenly excited within him. “When I recall to mind every detail -of the history of poor Jacob,--his neglected infancy--his corrupted -youth,--when I reflect that his own father was the individual who -coolly and deliberately initiated him in the ways of crime----Just -heavens! I begin to think with you that the reformation of such a -monster is an impossibility!” - -“Subdue your excitement, my dear friend,” said the doctor; “and let us -converse calmly and reasonably upon these matters.” - -“First, then, explain to me the nature of your interview with Mrs. -Bunce,” observed the Black. “I shall listen with earnest attention.” - -“I went up stairs to the room in which she is located,” said Lascelles; -“and she rose from a chair the moment I entered; but she started back -in evident disappointment mingled with surprise when she saw me. ‘_It -was not you, sir_,’ she almost immediately observed, ‘_that I wanted -to see. I know that the master of this house is of dark complexion; -for I have caught a glimpse of him when he has visited my dungeon -below._’--I explained to her that I was a friend of yours, and that you -had deputed me to receive any confession which she had to make. She -appeared to hesitate for a moment, and then burst into tears. ‘_I have -been wicked--very wicked, sir_,’ she said, in a voice broken by deep -sobs; ‘_and it is only very lately that I have had my eyes opened to -my sinful life. The dark gentleman, who I suppose is the master here, -has done this good thing for me: and now he is going to provide for me -and my husband. But I shall not go away happy, unless I tell him every -thing that weighs on my soul._’--I spoke a few words of comfort to -her; and in a few minutes she confessed that the lad who bore the name -of Jacob Smith is her own son, born while she was the mistress of Old -Death, and before her marriage with Bunce. I informed her that Jacob -was well provided for and happy; and she seemed deeply grateful for -this assurance. Then I recommended her not to reveal this secret to her -husband when they should be united again; inasmuch as, having entered -on a new phase of existence together, it would be useless and wrong to -acquaint him with a fact calculated only to disturb that harmony. She -promised to follow my advice, and appeared much eased in mind by having -unbosomed her secret to me.” - -“You gave her most excellent counsel, doctor,” said the Black: then, -after a few moments’ reflection, he added, “Jacob ought not to be -informed of this secret of his hideous parentage----at least not for -the present.” - -“By no means!” exclaimed the physician. “His mind is tranquil--he feels -a certain confidence in himself--and your friendship is his greatest -delight. Let not that salutary equanimity be disturbed.” - -“No--it would be wrong and useless,” said the Black, musing. “I -remember that in the course of the long narrative which he gave me of -his life, he mentioned the occasional scintillations of kindness which -marked the conduct of Mrs. Bunce towards him. I also recollect that he -observed to me how there were moments when he thought a great deal of -any gentle words which she ever uttered to him, or any kind treatment -she ever showed him.” - -“Nature, my dear friend--Nature!” exclaimed the good physician. “Even -in a woman so bad as she was at the time of which he spoke, there were -certain natural yearnings which she could not altogether subdue; while, -on his part, there existed filial inclinations and tendencies which -he could not understand. How much that villain Benjamin Bones has to -answer for!” - -“Alas--alas! I fear that he is beyond redemption!” cried the Black, -bitterly. “But--no,” he added immediately afterwards, in a changed and -more decided tone: “we must not despair!” - -“I am now anxiously waiting to hear your report concerning him,” -observed Lascelles. - -“He is still in darkness--_his night_ still continues,” was the answer. -“A month has elapsed since I visited him for the first time in his -dungeon; and during the other four weeks that have subsequently passed, -I have had several interviews with him in the same manner. These -interviews have taken place in the utter obscurity of his cell; and I -have been constrained, though with pain and difficulty, to assume a -feigned tone on each of those occasions. At my first visit he declared, -in terror and amazement, that he recognised in my voice something -which reminded him of that of Thomas Rainford; and then he seemed to -be impressed with the conviction that I was the Earl of Ellingham. His -rage against the Earl was deep and terrible; and I saw too plainly -that if he relapsed into a milder tone, it was but to deceive me -as to the real state of his mind, and induce me to grant him some -indulgences--if not his freedom. I visited him again on the following -night; and he spoke less savagely, and more meekly: but I mistrusted -him--yes, I mistrusted him, and I fear with good grounds. I cannot give -you a very satisfactory description of our subsequent meetings. At one -moment he has appeared touched by my language, and has even expressed -penitence and contrition for the past: at the next moment, he has -exhibited all the natural ferocity of his disposition. Sometimes he has -assumed a coaxing manner, and has endeavoured to move me to grant him -a light;--but I have hitherto refused. One thing I must not forget to -mention--which is that never since the first visit I paid him has he -once alluded to the impression made upon him by the sounds of my voice; -and never has he again addressed me as Lord Ellingham. In moments of -excitement or rage, he has demanded in a wild and almost frantic tone -who I am: but seldom waiting for the reply, he has relapsed either into -a humour of stubborn taciturnity, or of a meekness which I knew to be -assumed. Indeed, there are many points in his character and conduct, -since he has been an inmate of the dungeon, which I cannot comprehend. -It is however certain that darkness has not produced on him the same -rapid and important effects as upon the other five: something more -severe in the shape of punishment, or something better calculated to -touch his heart and appeal to his feelings, is requisite. At the same -time, I believe him to be already moved and shaken in his obduracy to -a certain degree: but reformation in respect to him must be a work of -time.” - -“On the whole, you have hopes?” said the physician, interrogatively. - -“Yes--when I call to memory all the particulars of his conduct and -language from the first occasion of my visits until the last, which -took place yesterday, I can recognise a change,” answered the Black. -“Indeed, I am almost convinced that if it were possible for me to -speak to him at very great length--to argue with him on the folly and -wickedness of his past life--to reason with him unrestrainedly, I -should be able to move him deeply. But the necessity of maintaining -an assumed tone, and the impossibility of taking a light with me so -as to watch the chantings and workings of his countenance and follow -up those appeals or those arguments which appear to have most effect -with him,--in a word, the disguise I am compelled to sustain and the -precautions I am forced to adopt, militate considerably against my -system in respect to _him_.” - -“It would be imprudent for _me_ to visit him on your behalf,” observed -the physician. “On that memorable night when Lord Ellingham had him, -Tidmarsh, and Mrs. Bunce in his power in an adjacent room, and wrested -from them all the secrets of their damnable plots and schemes,--on -that occasion, you know, I was present; and Old Death would therefore -cherish only rancorous feelings with regard to me.” - -“True,” said the Black, musing: then, suddenly starting from a deep -reverie of a few minutes, he exclaimed, “Doctor, I have thought of a -plan which I hope and trust, for the honour of human nature, may prove -efficacious in respect to that obdurate sinner: but I hesitate--yes, I -hesitate to put it into execution!” - -“Explain yourself, my dear friend,” replied Lascelles; “and I will give -you my advice candidly and frankly.” - -“In a word, then, doctor,” continued the Blackamoor, “I have such faith -in the soft persuasion of woman, that I am half inclined to conjure -Esther de Medina to assist me in this good work. Would she but consent -to visit this great sinner--or rather to address him through the -sliding-panel of his dungeon door, I am certain that her eloquence, -aided by the musical tones of her voice and the deep feeling which -would characterise her language,--I am certain, I say, that she would -succeed in touching a chord in his heart, which no words--no appeal of -mine can reach.” - -The physician heard with attention, and began to reflect profoundly. - -“For my part,” continued the Blackamoor, “I believe that the eloquence -of woman, when rightly used and properly directed, is endowed with -an influence and a power almost irresistible. Woman’s mission is to -tame and humanize the ferocity of man’s disposition; and the more -antagonistic are the characters of two beings of opposite sexes thus -to be brought in contact with each other, the better for the purpose. -Now, decidedly no two living creatures can be more dissimilar in all -respects than Benjamin Bones and Esther de Medina,--the former so -savage and unrelenting; the latter so mild and forgiving,--the one -possessing a soul blackened by every possible crime; the other endowed -with every virtue that approximates the nature of woman to that of the -angel!” - -“I like your project--I see not the least objection to it, my dear -friend,” said Dr. Lascelles, after a long pause, during which he -pondered deeply on the plan suggested. “Do you think that Miss de -Medina would consent to aid you in this matter?” - -“I have no doubt of it,” returned the Black. “You perceive that the -dilemma is somewhat serious, and not slightly embarrassing. I cannot -allow Benjamin Bones to go forth again into the world, to recommence -his vile intrigues: besides, to give him his liberty thus, would be -to defeat the primary object which I had in view in breaking up his -gang. To release him at present is therefore impossible; and I scarcely -feel myself justified in keeping him locked up much longer in a dark -dungeon. It would be unsafe to remove him into one of the apartments of -either this house or that in Turnmill Street; for such a crafty fox can -alone be kept secure by massive stone walls and iron bolts. What, then, -am I to do with him?--how am I to dispose of him? Esther will assist me -in this difficulty; and God send that through her agency, some salutary -impression may be made upon Old Death’s mind!” - -“Bear in memory,” exclaimed the physician, an idea suddenly striking -him, “that one of this man’s horrible schemes was to avenge himself on -Lord Ellingham by torturing Esther de Medina.” - -“And when he hears her sweet voice revealing to him her knowledge of -his atrocious designs, and sincerely promising him her pardon,--when he -discovers how much virtue and goodness there is in woman,” continued -the Black, in an impassioned tone, “he will be moved--he will be led to -contemplate the blackness of his own heart--he will find himself placed -in such frightful contrast with that forgiving angel----” - -“Yes--yes!” cried the physician, emphatically: “it must be done! -You have devised the only means to produce a real and effectual -impression on that bad man’s heart; and if he prove inaccessible to -the persuasiveness of Esther’s tongue, his case may be looked upon as -hopeless.” - -The deep-toned bell of Clerkenwell church now struck the hour of -eleven; and scarcely had the sound died away in the silence of night, -when a post-chaise drove up to the door of the house. - -“Mrs. Bunce is now about to take her departure,” said the Black. -“Everything is prepared in that respect--Harding and his wife have -already received full instructions and the necessary funds--and the -sooner that the woman is safe out of this mighty city of temptation, -the better.” - -The sounds of several footsteps were now heard descending the stairs; -and a minute afterwards, the post-chaise drove rapidly away from the -house. - -“Of all my prisoners, Old Death alone remains to be disposed of,” -observed the Black, as soon as the din of the wheels was no longer -audible. - -“And it is to be hoped that _he_ will not be a source of difficulty or -embarrassment to you for many weeks more,” said the physician, rising -to take his departure. - - - - -CHAPTER CXIII. - -ESTHER DE MEDINA AND OLD DEATH. - - -It was on the third day after the explanations given to Dr. Lascelles, -and between five and six o’clock in the evening, that Esther de Medina -was conducted by the Blackamoor into the subterranean passage, the -latter holding a lamp in his hand. - -“Shall I remain near you, Esther?” he enquired, in a whisper. - -“No--it is not necessary,” she answered. “I am not afraid of being in -this place, gloomy as it appears; and since I am merely to address the -miserable man through the trap-door of his dungeon, no harm can reach -me.” - -Thus speaking, she turned and received the light from her -companion,--her manner being calm and even resolute, though her -countenance was very pale. - -“God bless you, Esther!” said the Black, emphatically: “your -willingness to aid me in this important matter is not the least -admirable trait in your character!” - -“It is a duty--though a painful one,” responded the beautiful Jewess. -“And now leave me--I would rather proceed alone to the prisoner’s cell.” - -“Remember,” said the Blackamoor, “it is the last on the right hand side -of this long subterranean passage.” - -He then retraced his way up the stone-staircase communicating with -the house in Red Lion Street, while Esther advanced along the gloomy -cavern, in which the lamp shone but with feeble lustre. - -In less than a minute she reached the door of Old Death’s dungeon: and -there she paused for nearly another minute, a sensation of loathing -and horror preventing her from immediately announcing her presence to -the terrible inmate of that cell. For the Black, in order to prepare -her as fully and completely as possible for her philanthropic mission, -had been compelled to reveal to her all the details of those dreadful -designs which Benjamin Bones had cherished against herself and Lady -Hatfield, and which had been made known through the medium of John -Jeffreys. It was therefore natural that Esther de Medina should -shrink from the bare idea of holding the slightest communication with -a miscreant of so ferocious a character: but a short--a very short -interval of reflection was soon sufficient to arm her with the courage -necessary to support the ordeal. - -Drawing back the sliding-panel which covered the small aperture in the -upper part of the massive door, she said in her soft, musical voice, -“Prisoner, will you grant me your attention for a few minutes?” - -“Who are you?” demanded Old Death, starting as if from a lethargic -state--a movement that was indicated by the sudden rustling of his -garments and the creaking of the bed whereon he was placed. - -“I am Esther de Medina,” was the answer; and the beautiful Jewess -allowed the lamp to cast its light upon her countenance, which was so -close to the aperture that Old Death caught a momentary but perfect -view of her features. - -She then placed the lamp upon the ground, thus again leaving the -interior of the cell in complete darkness. - -“Yes--it is Miss Esther de Medina!” exclaimed Benjamin Bones, in a -voice which he endeavoured to render as mild and conciliatory as -possible. “Dear young lady, open the door, and let me out of this -horrible place. I am sure you possess a good heart----” - -“A heart good enough to forgive you for the dreadful atrocity which you -contemplated against me upwards of two months ago,” interrupted Esther, -scarcely able to subdue a shuddering sensation which came over her. -“Yes--I know every thing,” she continued: “you would have entrapped -me into your power--you would have deprived me of the blessing of -sight,--and yet I never, never injured you.” - -“But you say that you forgive me!” cried Old Death, impatiently. -“Open the door, then, my sweet young lady--and I will find means to -reward you well. Listen,” he exclaimed, approaching the trap, and -speaking in a confidential kind of hollow, murmuring whisper,--“don’t -be offended at what I am going to say--but I know that you are fond -of jewellery--and it is natural for such a beautiful creature as you -are----” - -“Silence, sir!” interrupted Esther, indignantly. “I am well aware to -what you allude; and it is time to undeceive you on that head,” she -added, in a proud tone: “indeed, there is no longer any necessity for -concealment in that respect! In my turn I desire you to listen--and -listen attentively. You entertain a belief so prejudicial to my -character, that I cannot allow even such an one as _you_ to cherish -it another minute. Know, then, that I have a sister so like myself in -outward appearance----” - -“By Satan! it must be so,” ejaculated Old Death, a light breaking in -upon his mind as in a single moment he took a rapid survey of all the -circumstances which had originally led him to suppose that Esther -was the thief of Mr. Gordon’s diamonds and the mistress of Tom Rain. -“Yes--yes--I understand it all now!” he added, in a tone that appeared -to imply vexation at his former blindness in respect to these matters. - -“With pain and sorrow am I thus compelled to allude to a sister who is -so dear--so very dear to me,” resumed Esther: “but this explanation was -necessary--not only for my own sake, but likewise to convince you of -the folly and wickedness of endeavouring to induce _me_, by the promise -of reward or bribe, to draw back the bolts of your prison-door. No--my -visit to you is inspired by the earnest desire to move your soul to the -contemplation of all the dreadful deeds which have marked your life----” - -“Then you will not set me free?” exclaimed Old Death, in a tone of -subdued rage and latent ferocity. - -“Not now--not now,” repeated Esther. “But listen to me attentively!” - -“Go on,” growled the inmate of the dungeon, as he retreated from the -door, and threw himself upon his bed again. - -“If you entertain the slightest hope that you will ever be allowed -an opportunity to re-enter on a course of wickedness and crime, you -are sadly mistaken,” continued Esther, speaking in a conciliatory and -yet energetic tone. “Even were you liberated this moment, measures -would be adopted to render you completely powerless for the future -in respect to the perpetration of fresh enormities. Reflect, then, -whether it will not be better for you to devote the remainder of your -days--and in the ordinary course of nature they must necessarily be -few--to the important duty of making your peace with heaven! Do not -despair of pardon--oh! no--do not despair! You see that I, who am a -mortal being, can forgive you for the wrongs you meditated against -me,--and surely the mercy of heaven is greater than that of human -creatures! Yes--repent ere it be too late; and God will not cast you -off eternally. _His_ mercy is infinite: _His_ pardon is never asked in -vain by the penitent sinner.” - -“Continue to speak to me thus,” cried Old Death, in a tone strangely -subdued and wondrously meek, considering the ferocious excitement which -so lately animated him. - -“Oh! I sincerely hope that you will recognise the error of your ways, -ere it be indeed too late!” exclaimed Esther, in a tone of enthusiasm -deeply felt by her generous soul. “Consider your advanced age--and -think how soon the hand of Death may be laid upon you! Then how -wretched--how awful would your feelings be,--and how would you shudder -at the idea of being about to stand in the presence of that Almighty -Power whose laws and mandates you have so often violated! For, after -all, what have you gained by your long, long career of wickedness? All -your treasures were annihilated in one hour----” - -“Yes--yes,” interrupted Old Death, in a voice half suffocated with -emotions which the Jewess fondly believed to be those of remorse. - -“The hoardings of many years and the produce of innumerable misdeeds -were thus swept away,” she continued, impressively; “and Providence -at length decreed that you should become a prisoner in the very place -where you had so long ruled as a master. Does not heaven, then, afford -you solemn and significant warnings that your career of crime is no -more to be pursued with success?--and do not those warnings move your -heart to repentance and remorse? Neglect not such warnings as these, I -conjure you!” - -“Your words do me good, young lady!” exclaimed Old Death. “I am glad -that you have come thus to speak to me.” - -“And shall you ponder upon what I have said?” she demanded. - -“Yes. But you will not leave me yet?--and you will come again?” he -said, in a voice indicative of suspense and anxiety relative to the -answer that was to be given. - -“I will return to-morrow,” observed Esther. - -“Thank you!” exclaimed Old Death, his tone now denoting a profound -emotion. - -But Esther did not immediately leave the vicinity of the cell on the -present occasion. Believing that she had succeeded in making some -salutary impression upon him, she was desirous of following up the -promising commencement of her mission; and she accordingly continued to -reason with him for nearly half-an-hour longer. In the course of the -observations and arguments which she addressed to the ancient sinner, -she displayed a sound judgment and a deep but enlightened religious -feeling: there was nothing bigoted--nothing fanatical in her language. -She indulged in no quotations from the Old Testament--the book that -formed the basis of her own nation’s creed: but she expatiated on the -goodness of the Creator--the hope that exists for penitent sinners--the -terrors of a death-bed without previous repentance--and the folly, as -well as the wickedness, of the course already pursued by the prisoner. -Old Death interrupted her but seldom; and when he did interject an -observation, it was in a tone and of a nature calculated to inspire the -charming Jewess with the hope that her mission had not been undertaken -in vain. - -At length she quitted the vicinity of the cell, having reiterated her -promise to return on the following day. - -And this pledge was faithfully kept;--and again do we find the Hebrew -maiden persevering in her humane--her noble task of awakening proper -feelings in the breast of a terrible sinner. To her question whether -he had meditated upon his spiritual condition, Old Death replied -earnestly and eagerly in the affirmative; and throughout this second -visit, he not only sought to retain the young lady near him--or rather -at his door--as long as possible, but likewise seemed sincere in his -endeavours to inspire her with the belief that her reasoning and her -representations had not been thrown away upon him. - -On the third day, Esther fancied that there was even a still more -striking change in his language when he responded to her questions or -her remarks; and not once, during the hour that she remained standing -outside his dungeon, addressing him in a style of fervid eloquence -which came from her very heart,--not once, we say, did he give the -least sign of that ferocity and savage impatience which characterised -his behaviour on the first occasion of her visit. - -For a fortnight did the Hebrew maiden continue her visits regularly, -without however venturing to enter the dungeon. On the fifteenth day -she found the prisoner anxiously expecting her arrival as usual; and -almost immediately after she had drawn aside the panel and announced -her presence, he said, “Oh! dear young lady, I am so glad you are come! -I have been thinking so much--so very much over all you have lately -told me; and I have felt comforted by repeating to myself the arguments -you advance urging me to repentance. Ah! Miss, I have been a dreadful -sinner--a dreadful sinner; and I see that I am righteously punished. -But though I am penitent, you have no confidence in me yet--and that -gives me pain. Yon are afraid to trust yourself with me! Do you think -that I would harm you?” - -“I hope not,” replied Esther; “and you shall not much longer have to -accuse me of want of confidence in you. I am pleased to observe that -you at length _feel_ how shocking it is to become an object of mistrust -and suspicion.” - -“You are an angel, young lady!” exclaimed Benjamin Bones, approaching -the door on the outer side of which stood the Hebrew maiden. “No one on -earth save yourself could have made such an impression upon my mind, -and in so short a time. But will you promise me one thing?” - -“Name your request,” said Esther. - -“That you will not send any man to converse with me,” answered Old -Death. “You are of the gentle sex--and that is why your sweet voice has -had such power and influence with me. Had that gentleman--whoever he -is--continued to visit me, he would have done no good. I suspect my own -sex:--I do not think that men can be so sincere--so conscientious----” - -“The gentleman to whom you allude will not visit you again without your -consent,” interrupted Esther. “I have undertaken this mission, and will -fulfil it to the utmost of my ability. I have now something important -to communicate,--important indeed, I should imagine, to one who has -been so long in darkness. In a word, I intend to give you a lamp----” - -“Oh! excellent young lady!” cried Benjamin Bones, in a voice expressive -of the most unfeigned joy. “Make haste and open the door--give me the -light----” - -“Nay--I must not manifest too much confidence, in you all at once. See -what it is to have been so long the votary of crime and wickedness--you -inspire a mistrust which cannot be dissipated in a moment.” - -“What can I do to convince you of my penitence--my gratitude?” demanded -Old Death, in an earnest--anxious tone. - -“Leave me to judge for myself relative to your state of mind,” -said Esther. “You perceive that I already begin to entertain hopes -concerning you: the proof is that I now give you a lamp--and a book -also, if you have a sincere inclination to examine its pages.” - -As she uttered these words, Esther unfastened the grating which covered -the aperture, and passed the lamp through to Old Death--then the volume -to which she had alluded. - -The light flashed upon his countenance as he received the lamp; and it -struck Esther that there was something hideous even in the expression -of joy which now animated those repulsive features:--but she knew that -looks which had grown sinister and become stamped with ferocious menace -during the lapse of many, many years, could not be changed nor improved -in a moment, however great were the moral reformation that had taken -place within. - -“Thanks, dear young lady--a thousand thanks!” exclaimed Old Death, as -he placed the lamp upon the table: then, after a few minutes’ pause, -during which he looked into the book, he said in a tone of surprise, -“But you have brought me a Bible containing the New as well as the Old -Testament--and yet yourself only believe in the latter?” - -“I respect the religion of the Christian, although I have been taught -to put no faith in it,” answered Esther de Medina, in a modest and -subdued tone. “But I must now depart: and to-morrow I shall visit you -again.” - -Esther withdrew, in the firm belief that a most salutary impression -had been made upon the mind of one of the greatest criminals of modern -times. Her report was received with the most heart-felt joy by the -Blackamoor; and he was enthusiastic in his expressions of gratitude -towards the beautiful maiden for her exertions in what may unaffectedly -be denominated “a good cause.” - -“Do you return to Finchley Manor with me this evening?” she asked, -cutting short his compliments with a good-humoured smile. - -“No--I have particular business to attend to, Esther,” he replied. “But -you may tell a certain young lady,” he added, now smiling in his turn, -“that I shall be sure to see her to-morrow evening.” - -“To-morrow!” repeated Esther. “You forget----” - -“Ah! I did indeed forget,” interrupted the Black. “To-morrow is the -day on which Arthur returns to town; and I must not risk a visit to -the Manor. The fortnight of his absence has soon expired, methinks: -but doubtless in that time he has made all the necessary preparation -to render his country seat in Kent fitting and comfortable to receive -his bride,” observed the Black, smiling again. “Nay--do not blush, -Esther: he is a noble fellow, and well deserving of all your love! And, -by the bye, this absence on his part has proved most serviceable in -one sense,” he continued, again assuming a serious tone: “for had he -remained in town, you never would have been able to devote the time you -have given each day to the reformation of that wretched man below.” - -“To speak candidly,” observed Esther, “I foresee a considerable -difficulty relative to my future visits to the unhappy prisoner: but I -feared to mention my embarrassment in this respect--I fancied that you -might suppose me to be wearied of the task I had undertaken----” - -“I know you too well to entertain such an injurious suspicion,” -interrupted the Black, hastily and emphatically. “But it is natural, -now that Arthur and yourself are so shortly to be united, that he -should seek your society as often and for as long a period each day as -circumstances will permit----” - -“Yes,” observed Esther, with a modest blush: “and though his welfare -is so deeply interested in our present enterprise--though, in a word, -so many grave and important interests depend upon the success of our -endeavours to humanize and reform that wretched prisoner, and disarm -him for the future--still I could not stoop to any falsehood or -subterfuge to account to the Earl of Ellingham for my daily absence -from home for several hours. It is true that my father is in the secret -of our proceedings--that he even approved of the course which you -suggested, and which I have adopted----” - -“Stay! an idea strikes me!” suddenly ejaculated the Black. “You told -me ere now that Benjamin Bones implored you to continue your visits to -him, and not allow me to take your place; and from this circumstance -we have both drawn favourable auguries relative to his ultimate -and complete repentance. He already looks upon you as his guardian -angel--the means of his salvation; and it would be perhaps productive -of evil results--it might even lead to a moral reaction on his -part--were he to believe that you had deserted him. You have so well -prepared the way in the grand work of reformation with regard to this -man, that _another_ might now undertake _your_ duties--and Benjamin -Bones would still continue to believe that it is the same Esther de -Medina who visits him.” - -“I understand you,” said the Hebrew maiden, evidently rejoiced at -a suggestion which relieved her mind from the fear of a serious -difficulty. “But would _you_ be satisfied with such an arrangement?” - -“I see no alternative,” replied the Black. “Arthur will call daily at -Finchley Manor--and your frequent absence would, to say the least of -it, appear strange.” - -“Oh! wherefore not allow Arthur at once to be made acquainted with the -whole truth?” demanded Esther, in an earnest and appealing manner. - -“No--no--that may not be!” exclaimed the Blackamoor. “My projects must -first be carried out to the very end: for it would be my pride and -my triumph, when all danger shall have passed away, to say to him, -‘_Arthur, you were surrounded by perils which you did not suspect: -demons were plotting every kind of atrocity against your peace;--and -I have annihilated all their schemes, and tamed the schemers -themselves!_’ Urge me not therefore, my dear Esther, to deviate from -the course which I have chalked out for myself, and which I consider -to be to some extent an atonement for the misdeeds of my own life. -Yes--for he who accomplishes a great good, assuredly expiates a great -amount of evil.” - -“For heaven’s sake, recur not to the past!” murmured the beautiful -Jewess, turning pale and shuddering at the crowd of unpleasant--nay -awful reminiscences which her companion’s language recalled to her mind. - -“No--let us deliberate only for the present,” exclaimed the Black; “and -the more I think of the plan which I have suggested, the more suitable -does it appear. Yes,” he continued, “this is the only alternative. Let -_your_ visits to Benjamin Bones cease, Esther--and yet let him still -continue to believe that he is not neglected nor deserted by Miss de -Medina. I need say no more: the rest lies with you.” - -“I understand you,” returned the Hebrew maiden; “and it shall be as you -desire.” - -She then took her departure. - - - - -CHAPTER CXIV. - -OLD DEATH IN THE DUNGEON. - - -It was five o’clock in the evening of the following day; and Old Death -was crouched up, like a wild beast, upon his bed in the dungeon, which -was now lighted by the lamp that Esther de Medina had given him. - -His natural emaciation had so frightfully increased, that he seemed -but a skeleton in the clothes which hung upon him as if they had never -been made for one so thin as he. The skirts of his old grey coat were -wrapped around his wasted shanks--for, though it was now the month of -May, yet it was cold in that dungeon. His countenance was wan and -ghastly;--but its expression was little calculated to excite pity--for -any thing more diabolically ferocious than the old miscreant’s aspect, -cannot be well conceived. His face was the horrible reflex of a mind -filled with passions and longings of so savage and inhuman a nature, -that the mere thought makes one shudder. - -“She will come presently,” he muttered to himself, with a kind of -subdued growling which indicated the fury of his pent-up rage: “she -will come presently,” he repeated, his eyes glaring like those of a -hyena beneath his shaggy, over-hanging brows; “and perhaps it will be -for to-day! Who knows? she may think me penitent enough to be no longer -dangerous: and then--then----” - -He paused, and ground his jaws savagely together as if they were filled -with teeth; and his hands were clenched with such spasmodic violence -that the long nails ran into the palms. - -“For two months and a half,” he continued at length, and still musing -to himself, “has the fiend--the infernal wretch--my mortal enemy, kept -me here! For two months and a half have I been his prisoner! Perdition -seize upon him! That man was sent into the world to be my ruin--to -thwart me--to persecute me! From the first moment I ever met him six or -seven months ago, all has gone wrong with me. But the day of vengeance -must and shall come,--yes--vengeance--vengeance--though it costs me -my life. Ah! he fancies that I am ignorant of his secret: and yet I -understand it all now--yes--all, all! Rapid as was the gleam of the -lamp which showed me his features the first time he ever visited me -here, so quick did a light flash to my mind--so quick did the truth -break upon me! Yes--yes--I understand it all _now_;”--and he chuckled -in a scarcely audible manner, yet the more horribly menacing because -it was so subdued and low. “But how can it be?--how could he have been -saved?” he asked himself, in his sombre musings: then, after a brief -pause, during which he rocked to and fro on the bed, he continued, -“Never mind the _how_! That such is the fact I am confident--and that -is enough for me! Yes--yes--that is enough for me! Fool that I was ever -for a moment to suspect him to be Lord Ellingham! And yet I should -have clung to this belief, had not the lamp glared upon his face as -he darted out of the cell! Ah! ah! he little thinks that I know him -now--that I have known him ever since the moment when the light showed -me his features, blackened as they were! Ah! ah!” again chuckled Old -Death: “I fancy that I have lulled them into an idea of my penitence! -They imagine that the work of reformation has begun with me! Ah! ha! -I played my cards well there! I did not whine and weep too soon--I -appeared to be precious tough, and precious obstinate; and my slow -conversion seemed all the more natural. They will fall all the easier -into the snare: they----” - -At this moment a slight noise at the door of the cell made the ancient -miscreant start; and he instantaneously composed his features into as -mournful and sanctimonious an expression as such a horribly hang-dog -countenance could possibly assume. - -The trap-door opened; and a sweet, musical voice said, “I am here -again, according to my promise: you see that I do not desert you.” - -“Ah my dear young lady,” cried Old Death, affecting a tremulous tone, -“you are too good to such a dreadful sinner as I have been! My God! -when I think of all the atrocity that I once planned against you, I -feel inclined to implore you to depart from even the vicinity of such a -wretch as me!” - -“Have you not been already assured that you are fully and completely -forgiven in reference to the wickedness to which you allude?” demanded -the young lady, whose beautiful countenance was now plainly visible to -Old Death through the grating over the aperture in the door. - -“Yes, Miss de Medina,” returned the wretch, assuming a still more -penitent tone; “but I cannot forgive myself. You are an angel, dear -young lady--and I am a demon. I know I am! All last night I endeavoured -to read the Bible that you gave me yesterday: but I cannot settle my -mind to the task. I want some one to read it to me--if only for half -an hour every day. But this cannot be--I am aware it cannot! You--the -only person living that could have made such an impression upon me--are -afraid to enter my cell. You told me so yesterday. But am I not a human -being?--am I a wild beast? Ah! dear young lady--I could not injure -you!”--and the old miscreant appeared to weep. - -“Do you think it would console you if I were to place confidence in -you--enter your cell--and read you a portion of the Word of God?” - -“Why do you tantalize an old, old man who is miserable enough as it -is?” asked Old Death, in return to this question. “Do you suppose that -I am not weighed down to the very dust by an awful load of crime? -If you are afraid to come into the cell, send me a clergyman. But, -no--no,” he added, as if yielding to the sudden influence of a second -thought: “I will pray with no one but yourself! You have been my good -angel--you first touched my heart. I must wait till you have sufficient -confidence in me to follow up the blessed work you have already begun -so well. Yes--yes--even if I must remain here for a whole year, I will -not receive consolation from any one but you!” - -“If I only thought that you were so far advanced in the path of -penitence----” - -“Can you doubt it?” hastily demanded the prisoner. “Have you such -little confidence in your own powers of persuasion? Oh! my dear young -lady,” continued the wretch, falling upon his knees on the floor of -the cell, and joining his hands together, “have pity upon me--have -pity upon me! Your mistrust of me pierces like a dagger to my heart. I -crave--I long to be able to show you my gratitude;--and that can only -be by proving my contrition. Dear young lady, have mercy on an old, old -man, who would embrace the very ground on which you tread!” - -“It would be wicked--it would be a crime to refuse your demand,” said -the sweet, musical voice, now tremulous with emotion, of her whom the -demon-hearted hypocrite called his good angel. “Stay--I will fetch the -key--and on my return I will read the Bible to you.” - -And the Hebrew lady hurried away from the vicinity of the dungeon; and, -having ascended the spiral stone staircase with rapid steps, entered -the apartment usually inhabited by the Blackamoor. But he was not -there: and she paused--uncertain how to act; for she now remembered -that he had gone out for a short time immediately after giving her -certain instructions relative to the conduct she was to maintain -towards Old Death. - -[Illustration] - -“I should not like to do this without his consent,” she murmured to -herself: “and yet the prisoner is so penitent--so contrite, that it -would be a sin--nay, a crime, not to confirm the salutary impression -which is now so strong upon him. Yes--yes,” she continued: “I will take -this step upon my own responsibility! Surely _he_ will not blame me for -thus exceeding his instructions, when the cause is so good and the need -seems so urgent!” - -Thus speaking, she took down a large key from a nail inside a cupboard, -and retraced her way to the subterranean. - -In the meantime--during the ten minutes which her absence lasted--Old -Death was agitated by a thousand conflicting thoughts. At one moment -an infernal joy filled his heart, and he rubbed his hands together -in horrible and fiend-like glee: at the next instant his countenance -became convulsed with the hideous workings of his fears lest something -should occur to prevent the Jewess from entering his cell. He seemed -to live an age in that ten minutes; and he felt that if the terrific -excitement which he thus endured, were to last for an hour, it would -crush and overwhelm him. All the worst passions of his diabolical -nature were set in motion like the waves of the sea: and in that short -space of time were awakened feelings which, for intensity of awful -spite and inveterate malignity, were probably never before nor since -paralleled in the breast of man! - -At length there was a slight rustling of a silk dress and the sound -of a gentle though hasty tread in the passage without; and in a few -moments the beautiful countenance of the Jewess appeared at the grated -aperture. - -“Blessed young lady!” exclaimed Old Death, suddenly exercising an -immense mastery over his ferocious passions, and assuming a tone of -mingled gratitude and hope. - -“Heaven grant that the step which I am now taking may have a -permanently beneficial effect!” said the Jewess, in a voice profoundly -sincere, as she placed the key in the lock. - -Then, with her gentle hands, she drew back the massive bolts; and in -another moment she entered the dungeon in which the greatest miscreant -that ever disgraced human nature was crouched upon the bed, like a -tiger ready to spring from its lair. - -For upwards of a minute this dreadful man could scarcely believe his -eyes--could scarcely credit his own senses. Was it possible that she -was there--there, in his presence--there, in his power? It appeared to -be a dream; and a momentary dizziness seized upon him. - -“Give me the Bible,” said the Jewess, taking the chair; “and do you -draw near me.” - -“Here is the book,” observed Old Death, in a deep tone which might -well be mistaken for the sign of solemn feelings, and was indeed so -interpreted. - -The lady placed the sacred volume upon the table before her, and began -to turn over its leaves in order to find the passage which she deemed -most appropriate and suitable for the circumstances of the occasion. -Having discovered the chapter which she sought, she raised her eyes -towards Old Death’s countenance in order to assure herself that he was -in readiness for her to begin; but a sudden sensation of horror and -apprehension seized upon her, as she caught a glimpse of the diabolical -expression of those features on which the pale light of the flickering -lamp fell with sinister effect. - -Then, with a howl of ferocious rage, that old man, whom the deep -craving after a bloody vengeance now rendered as strong as a -giant,--that old man precipitated himself upon the terrified Jewess -with all the fury of a ravenous monster, the chair broke down beneath -the shock; and with dreadful shrieks and appalling screams the Hebrew -lady fell upon the dungeon-floor, held tight in the grasp of the -miscreant, who was uppermost. - -In another instant those shrieks and screams yielded to subdued moans; -for his fingers had fixed themselves round her throat like an iron -vice. Desperate--desperate were her struggles,--the struggles of -the agony of death: but Benjamin Bones seemed to gather energy and -force from the mere act of this strong resistance;--and as his grasp -tightened round his victim’s neck, low but savage growls escaped his -lips. - -By degrees the struggling grew less violent--and a gurgling sound -succeeded the moans of the Jewish lady. Tighter--and more tightly still -were pressed the demon’s fingers, until his long nails entered her soft -and palpitating flesh. Oh! it was horrible--horrible,--this scene of -ruthless murder in that subterranean dungeon! - -At length the movements of the victim became mere convulsive spasms: -but her large dark eyes, now unnaturally brilliant, glared up at Old -Death, fixedly and appallingly. Nevertheless, he was not terrified--he -was not stricken with remorse! No--still, still he clung to his victim, -his own eyes looking down ferociously into hers, and the workings of -his countenance displaying a fiend-like triumph--a savage glory in the -awful deed which he was perpetrating. - -Nearly five minutes had elapsed from the instant when the murderer -first sprang upon the unfortunate Jewess: and now, suddenly starting to -his feet, he seized the lamp and dashed it upon her head. A low moan -escaped her--and all was silent. - -Yes--all was silent, and all was darkness too; for the light had been -extinguished:--and Old Death precipitated himself from the dungeon. - -He hurried along the subterranean, which he knew so well,--hurried -along towards the spiral stair-case, wondering whether he should -be enabled to effect his escape, yet almost reckless and desperate -as to what might become of him, now that his savage vengeance was -accomplished. - -He ascended the stone steps--he entered the room which had for years -and years served him as a bed-chamber, before he had been compelled to -dispose of the house to Lord Ellingham. He passed into the laboratory: -and as yet he had proceeded without interruption. Joy! joy! he should -escape yet--the adjoining room, now fitted up as a handsome parlour, -was likewise untenanted at the moment:--joy! joy! he is descending the -stair-case leading to the hall! - -Is it possible that he will escape? Fortune seems to favour the -diabolical murderer; and his hand is now upon the latch of the -front-door--he stands as it were once more upon the threshold of -that great world which is so wide and has so many channels for the -machinations of the wicked! The house seems deserted--not a questioning -voice falls upon his ear,--not the step of a human foot, save his own, -interrupts the silence of the place! Yes--it appears as if escape be -now a certainty,--escape for him who dared not hope for it, and did -not even think of it, when intent on the all-absorbing scheme of his -vengeance! - -And now the front-door opens to his touch: but--ah! he has blood upon -his hands--the blood that had flowed from the neck of the murdered -Jewess. He starts back--he hesitates for a moment,--but only for a -moment: Old Death is not the man to remain long uncertain how to -proceed in such a strait! - -Thrusting his hands--his gore-stained hands--into his pockets, the -demon-hearted monster issues as coolly and calmly from the house -as if it were his own and he had nothing to fear. The fresh air of -heaven--untasted by him for ten long weeks--comes gushing upon his -face: he is free--he is free! - -“Ah!” is the hasty ejaculation which now falls on his ear: he looks -around--a man is bounding, flying towards him--and in another instant -he is in the grasp of the Blackamoor. - -A short and desperate struggle takes place; and a crowd immediately -gathers near--for the Sessions are being held at Hicks’s Hall, on -Clerkenwell Green, so that the neighbourhood presents the bustling -appearance usual on such occasions. - -“Seize him--hold him!” yells forth Old Death, as his powerful opponent -hurls him towards the house-door, which the miscreant had not closed -behind him. - -“He is a mad-man--escaped from a lunatic asylum!” exclaimed the -Blackamoor, horrible apprehensions filling his soul relative to the -Jewess--for his eyes had caught sight of the blood upon Old Death’s -hands. - -“No--no--I am not a mad-man!” shrieked out the latter. “Seize him--hold -him, I say:--_he has escaped the scaffold--he is_ TOM RAIN, _the -highwayman_!” - -At that dreadful announcement the Blackamoor was struck speechless and -motionless, as if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet; and in the next -instant he was in the grasp of Dykes and Bingham, who, having business -at the Sessions House, happened to be amongst the crowd gathered at the -entrance of Red Lion Street. - -“Yes--seize him--hold him tight!” yelled Benjamin Bones: “he is Tom -Rain, I tell you--his face is coloured purposely--but I knew that he is -Tom Rain!” - -“And hold that miscreant also!” ejaculated Rainford--for he indeed the -Blackamoor was: “seize him--let him not escape!” he cried, recovering -the power of speech, as his eyes again caught a glimpse of the -blood-stained hands of Old Death. “There has been murder committed in -this house----My God! my God!” - -The crowd had now not only increased to such an extent as to render -the way perfectly impassable; but a tremendous sensation suddenly -seized upon the assemblage,--the news that Tom Rain, the celebrated -highwayman, had escaped death by some miraculous means, and was once -more in custody, circulating like wild-fire. Dykes and Bingham, knowing -that in such a case the sympathies of the mob were most likely to turn -in favour of the prisoner, hurried him and Old Death into the house, -whither they were followed by three or four other constables; and the -door was immediately closed in the face of the crowd, and secured -within. - -On reaching the sitting-room the first-floor, the party halted; and Old -Death, now completely overcome by the excitement of the incidents which -had so rapidly succeeded each other in a short half-hour, threw himself -exhausted into a chair. - -“Well, Mr. Rainford,” said Dykes, with something like a malicious grin, -“I am sorry for this business--but how, in the name of all that’s -wonderful, did you escape after being so deuced well hung as I seed you -was with, my own eyes?” - -“Silence!” ejaculated Rainford, in an imperious tone: “and come with me -at once down below. For, as sure as you are there, murder--a horrible -murder has been committed by that wretch,” pointing to Old Death, who -now quivered beneath his furious looks; “and, if you doubt it, behold -the blood upon his hands!” added Tom Rain, with a cold shudder. - -“Bring him along with us, Bingham,” said Dykes, addressing his brother -officer. - -“No--no--I won’t go down there again!” yelled forth the murderer, his -countenance becoming convulsed with horror; for he was now afraid of -his crime, in the revulsion of his feelings. - -“Well--let him stay here in custody,” observed Dykes; “and me and a -couple of the runners will go with Mr. Rainford.” - -The officer and the two myrmidons whom he had selected, accordingly -proceeded with Tom Rain into the room where the trap-door of the spiral -stair-case had been left open by Old Death; and the constables surveyed -each other with, mingled apprehension and astonishment. - -“You are not afraid?” exclaimed Rainford, in a contemptuous tone, as -he lighted a lamp: then, with impatient excitement, he cried, “Do your -duty, and come with me. Life may still be left in her--come--come!” - -“Yes--yes: we shall go along with you, sure enough,” growled Dykes, as -he led the way, followed by Rainford--the two runners closing the rear. - -In three minutes more the little party entered the dungeon which had so -lately been the prison-house of Old Death: and there what a dreadful -spectacle met their eyes! The murdered lady was stretched upon the -floor--her countenance horribly discoloured and swollen--the forehead -completely smashed by the blow inflicted by the lamp which had been -dashed at her--and her eyes staring with a stony glare, as if about to -start out of their sockets. - -“O Tamar! Tamar! my dearest--best beloved Tamar!” cried Tom Rain, in a -tone of bitter--bitter anguish, as he threw himself upon his knees by -the side of the corpse. - -The officers, rude in heart, and rendered obdurate as they were by the -very nature of their profession, stood back in respectful silence at -this outburst of sorrow from the lips of the resuscitated highwayman. - -“My God!” murmured the unhappy man, clasping his hands together; “who -shall break these fearful tidings to your father and your sister? And -will they not reproach me?--will they not attribute this frightful -calamity to that project of reformation which I had devised in behalf -of Benjamin Bones? O Tamar--my dearest Tamar--who could have foreseen -that such a terrible destiny was in store for thee!” - -And, bowing down his head, he wept bitterly. - -Suddenly loud voices were heard from the top of the spiral stair-case, -summoning Dykes thither. - -“Come along, sir--it is useless to remain here!” cried the officer, -speaking hastily but respectfully to Tom Rain, who suffered himself to -be led away--or rather, he did not offer any resistance to those who -conducted him thence. - -“Well--what now!” demanded Dykes, hurrying up the steps, at the head of -which his friend Bingham was continuing to shout after him. - -“Why--don’t you know,” was the reply, “that Government has offered a -reward for the diskivery of the chap wot carried off Sir Christopher -Blunt and Dr. Lascelles--about that there Torrens’s affair----” - -“Well--what then?” cried Dykes, impatiently. - -“Blowed if it ain’t Tom Rain,” responded Bingham: “he did it--and we’ve -knabbed him. So that’s a cool two hundred and fifty a piece!” - -“By goles!” ejaculated Dykes, his countenance expanding into the most -glorious humour possible, as if all remembrance of the horrible scene -he had just witnessed were banished from his mind: “this is good news, -though,” he added, as he emerged from the stair-case into the little -back room with which it communicated. “But how do you know that the -chap as kidnapped the knight and the doctor is Mr. Rainford?” - -“Because I’ve been talking with old Ben Bones,” answered Bingham; “and -he told me as how he’d been kidnapped too, and kept a prisoner down -there for a matter of ten weeks;--and how there was a lot on ’em--and -Josh Pedler and Tim Splint among the rest. So, when he mentioned them -names, I pricks up my ears--and I asks him a question or two; and I -find that they was all kidnapped just at the time that the Torrens -affair was a-making sich a noise: so it’s a clear case.” - -“Clear enough, to be sure!” exclaimed Dykes. - -“Ben Bones doesn’t seem to know any thing about that affair,” continued -Dykes: “cos why, he was lugged off and took down in that there place -afore the business was made public by Sir Christopher and the doctor. -But, I say--what has happened below?” - -“A young o’oman killed--that’s all,” answered Dykes. “So here’s a -pretty day’s business for us, Bingham: a man that had been hung, took -up fust--then a murder diskivered, and the murderer in our power--and -now this here affair about the Government reward. Well--we’ve been -rather slack lately--and a little okkipation’s quite a blessin’.” - -Thus conversing together, Mr. Dykes and Mr. Bingham returned to the -apartment where Old Death was still sitting in a chair, watched by a -couple of constables: but the moment Rainford, who had only a confused -idea, of what was passing around him, was led into that room, he -started back in horror--exclaiming, “No--no: I cannot bear to be in the -company of this dreadful man!” - -Old Death, to whom he pointed, grinned in savage triumph: but Rainford -had already rushed back into the laboratory, attended by Dykes and -two runners. Almost at the same instant, the lad Cæsar who had heard -from the crowd outside enough to convince him that Rainford had been -discovered, and also that a person answering the description of Old -Death had first denounced the resuscitated highwayman, and had then -himself been arrested on a charge of murder,--Cæsar, we say, now made -his appearance, and threw himself at his master’s feet, exclaiming -wildly, “Oh! no--my generous friend--my more than father--they shall -not take you from us!” - -“Jacob,” said Tom Rain, raising the distracted youth, who was no other -than the reader’s former acquaintance, Jacob Smith,--“do not yield -to grief. We have need of all our courage on this occasion. I have -received a frightful blow--wounded I am in the tenderest point--oh! -I can scarcely restrain my anguish, while conjuring you to be calm! -And yet it is necessary to meet my afflictions face to face! Hasten, -then, to Finchley--and break the sad intelligence to Mr. de Medina and -Esther: tell them, Jacob--as gently as you can--tell them that Benjamin -Bones has crowned all his enormities by----” - -“My God! it is then too true!” ejaculated the youth; covering his face -with his hands. - -“Yes--Tamar is no more!” added Rainford, tears gushing from his eyes. -“My poor wife has been brutally--foully murdered by that miscreant!” - -Jacob Smith hurried away, his own heart feeling as if it were about to -break. - -“And now,” said Tom Rain, suddenly turning towards Dykes, “I appeal to -you as men to allow me to superintend the removal of the remains of -that lady, who was my wife, to a chamber in this house; and then, that -duty being performed, I shall be ready to accompany you whithersoever -you may choose to conduct me.” - -“We are not particular for an hour or so, Mr. Rainford,” returned -Dykes. “Indeed, it would be better to let the crowd disperse a little; -and if so be you don’t mind staying here a bit, we’ll wait till dark. -The evenings is long now, you see----” - -“I should have wished to remain here until the relatives of the -deceased lady had time to arrive and take charge of the body,” -interrupted Tom Rain: “but I dared not ask such a favour at your hands. -As it is, however, I thank you.” - -“But you must likewise let old Ben Bones stay here, until after dusk -at least,” urged Dykes: “for if it was knowed to the people outside -that it was the ancient fence who had killed a woman, they’d be after -tearing him to pieces. So we must smuggle him out presently.” - -Rainford gave his consent to the proposition: he was too sick at -heart--too profoundly overwhelmed by misfortune, to attempt to argue -any question that might arise from the lamentable incidents of that -evening. - - - - -CHAPTER CXV. - -THOMAS RAINFORD. - - -The arrest of Tom Rain and Old Death took place at about twenty minutes -to six on the evening in question; and by ten o’clock that night the -news were circulated throughout every quarter of the metropolis. - -The incidents involved in the double arrestation were well adapted -to produce as much excitement as the extraordinary adventures of Sir -Christopher Blunt and Dr. Lascelles ten weeks previously. - -In the first place, a man who had been publicly executed at Horsemonger -Lane, was now discovered to be alive, having been doubtless -resuscitated in some extraordinary way; although the more credulous and -wonder-loving portion of the community were firmly convinced that Tom -Rain had never been hanged at all, but that the body of some prisoner -recently deceased at the time was ushered through the dreadful ordeal -instead of the formidable highwayman. - -In the second place, this said Thomas Rainford was said to be the -mysterious personage who, usurping the attributes of justice, had -kidnapped Dr. Lascelles and Sir Christopher Blunt, and had somehow -or another disposed of the real murderers of Sir Henry Courtenay, -after having devised the necessary means to prove and make public the -innocence of Mr. Torrens. - -In the third place, a notorious fence, named Benjamin Bones, who had -defied the police and the laws for many, many years, had at last -fatally entangled himself with justice, by committing a diabolical -murder upon the person of Thomas Rainford’s wife. - -And, in the fourth place, it had been discovered that there were -situate two houses in the very heart of London having a subterraneous -passage connecting them, and this subterranean communicating with -several dark and gloomy dungeons, decently furnished, and in which -half-a-dozen prisoners had recently been confined. One of these -prisoners was now known to be Benjamin Bones; but what had become of -the other five? - -Such were the circumstances which took the whole town by storm, -and produced a tremendous sensation from one end of London to the -other--the intelligence reaching even Lady Hatfield, retired and -secluded as was her mode of living. - -Shortly after ten o’clock on that eventful evening, a private carriage -drove up to the house in Red Lion Street; and Mr. de Medina, Esther, -and Lord Ellingham alighted. Jacob Smith leapt down from the box; -and in a few moments the entire party entered the dwelling, thus -disappearing from the gaze of the assembled crowd. - -The Jew, his daughter, and the young nobleman were immediately -conducted by one of Rainford’s dependants into the apartment where -the unhappy husband of the murdered Tamar was pacing up and down, -Dykes sitting in a corner watching his movements. The prisoner was -no longer disguised: during the interval which had elapsed since his -arrest, he had, by the officer’s express desire, washed off the black -dye from his face and hands; and he now wore his natural aspect in one -sense--though, in another, his expressive countenance was altered by -the despair that filled his soul. - -“Oh! Thomas--what terrible afflictions have occurred!” exclaimed Lord -Ellingham, as he flew into his half-brother’s arms. - -“You will not reproach me, Arthur-----Oh! do not augment my grief!” -cried Rainford: and he wept bitter tears. - -“No one will reproach you, excellent young man,” said Mr. de -Medina, taking the hand of his bereaved son-in-law. “But----Oh! my -daughter--my daughter, Tamar! Great God! thou hast chosen to afflict me -deeply--deeply!” - -In the meantime, Esther de Medina had thrown herself into a chair, -giving way to the wildest paroxysms of grief--the Earl of Ellingham -having vainly accosted her with the hope of importing some slight -consolation. But, alas! he himself was a prey to the most poignant -anguish: and, even had he been more calm, how was it possible to -comfort Esther de Medina for the loss--the cruel assassination--of that -sister whom she loved so tenderly and so well? - -“Thomas,” at length said the Earl, approaching his half-brother, -“has Jacob Smith told us the dreadful tale correctly?--and is -it--he--Benjamin Bones--who has done this? My God! I have scarcely been -able to comprehend all the terrible particulars!” - -“It is true--it is too true--I know that it is!” exclaimed Mr. de -Medina, shaking his head in despair. “Yes--Tamar is no more; but--at -least--let me behold her remains!” - -Rainford turned an appealing glance towards Dykes, as much as to -say, “You surely will allow me to proceed unwatched and unguarded along -with these mourners to the chamber where the corpse lies?” - -But Dykes, who understood the meaning of that glance, said in a -respectful though firm tone, “I dare not trust you out of my sight!” - -“I will be answerable for him, officer!” cried the Earl of Ellingham. -“Do you know me? I----” - -“I know who you are, my lord,” answered Dykes; “but I cannot oblige -you.” - -“Is not grief such as that which you now contemplate,” said the -nobleman, indicating the weeping father and sister of the deceased -lady,--“is not such grief as this too solemn for the intrusion of a -stranger?” - -“Since your lordship forces me to speak plain,” returned Dykes, “Mr. -Rainford is my prisoner on two charges----” - -“On two charges!” ejaculated the Earl: then, remembering all that his -brother had passed through, he said mournfully, “But, just heavens! -_one_ is enough!” - -“As your lordship observes,” began Dykes, “one is----” - -At that moment another private carriage rattled up to the door of -the house, and a lady, alighting with feverish impatience, was -instantaneously admitted into the dwelling. In less than a minute she -was ushered by Jacob Smith into the room where the mourning party were -assembled. - -“Lady Hatfield!” cried Tom Rain, the moment she raised her veil: and, -as if her presence were another blow on such an occasion, he staggered -and would have, fallen had not the Earl of Ellingham caught him in his -arms. - -“Pardon this intrusion,” said Georgiana, advancing into the middle of -the apartment; “and believe me when I assure you that nothing save the -hope of being in some degree able to lighten the afflictions which -pour upon you all--nothing,” she added emphatically, “but such a hope -as this would have induced me to break upon your privacy. The dreadful -rumours current in the metropolis reached me ere now--and I flew -hither, only--alas! to hear them confirmed. But--Mr. Rainford----” - -She stopped short--trembled--and seemed for an instant overcome by -feelings of an unutterable nature. The bitterness--the intensity of -grief which oppressed the others, was in some degree absorbed for the -moment by the profound interest which the presence of Lady Hatfield -excited, her words having given promise of hopes the nature whereof -defied all conjecture. - -But suspense on the part of her listeners was not destined to last long. - -“Mr. Rainford,” she resumed, exercising a powerful control over her -emotions, “you have sustained an affliction so great that it is almost -impossible to impart consolation to you. Yet--even in the midst of such -woe as this which has overtaken you--it may at least be a satisfaction -to learn that the judgment of a criminal tribunal no longer hangs over -you--that the past is indeed the past, and cannot be revived----” - -“Georgiana!” cried the Earl of Ellingham, surveying her in profound -astonishment; “what mean you?” - -“I mean that Thomas Rainford is pardoned!” exclaimed Lady Hatfield: “I -mean,” she continued, the wildest astonishment having sealed the lips -of all who heard her,--“I mean that the sentence passed upon him months -ago is dissolved--annihilated;--and here is the royal decree--bearing -the Sovereign’s seal--and countersigned by the Secretary of the Home -Department! ’Tis a full pardon for Thomas Rainford!” - -Thus speaking, she handed Lord Ellingham a paper: but it fell from his -hands--for his half-brother had sunk senseless upon the floor. - -Water was speedily procured and all the usual means adopted to restore -him. It was, however, some time ere he gave signs of life; and then, -beckoning Georgiana towards him, he said in a faint tone, “May the -great God above us bless you--for you are an angel!” - -It was undoubtedly an immense alleviation of the general sorrow to -learn that Rainford had received a full pardon for all those offences -which had drawn down on his head the sentence of death pronounced at -the Old Bailey; and the Earl of Ellingham, having now hastily glanced -over the paper which decreed this act of royal mercy, submitted it to -the examination of Mr. Dykes. - -“Well, my lord,” said that officer, “I see and hear plain enough that -one of the charges on which I held Mr. Rainford prisoner, is knocked -on the head; and I’m glad of it--’specially as ’tis the most serious -of the two. But I must still keep him in custody, he being the man who -kidnapped Sir Christopher Blunt and Dr. Lascelles----” - -“Wait--one moment!” exclaimed Rainford, a sudden thought flashing to -his mind and restoring him to the wonted energies of his character. - -While all present watched his movements with breathless interest, he -hastened to a writing desk standing on a table in a recess; and thence -he took a pocket-book, which he opened, and the contents of which he -scanned rapidly as he turned over the various papers one after the -other. - -“Here it is!” he cried triumphantly at last; and, drawing forth a slip -of paper, he handed it to Lord Ellingham, who mechanically read it -aloud:-- - - “We acknowledge a sense of deep obligation to the bearer - of this memorandum, the said bearer having rendered us - special service; and we hold ourselves bound to grant him - any boon which he may demand at our hands, so that it be not - inconsistent with our royal honour, nor prejudicial to the - interests of the State. - - “Given this 3rd of March, in the year 1827. - - “GEORGE REX.” (L.S.) - -“You are saved, Thomas--you are saved, in all respects!” exclaimed -Mr. de Medina, pressing with affectionate warmth the hand of his -son-in-law, while tears trickled down the old man’s venerable -countenance. - -“All this is so truly astonishing,” cried the Earl of Ellingham, “that -I am bewildered. How you, my excellent friend--my sister,” he added, -turning towards Lady Hatfield, “obtained the royal pardon for Thomas -Rainford, I well know--indeed, I have all along known.” - -“You!” ejaculated Georgiana, in profound astonishment. - -“Yes--I overheard your interview with the King in the Blue Velvet -Closet at Carlton House,” continued the Earl; “and now I comprehend all -the greatness and generosity of your conduct! Oh! and you must pardon -me too, for having become a listener on that occasion, and for having -ever since entertained suspicions most injurious to your honour.” - -“The remainder of the tale can then be told by myself,” said Tom Rain, -hastily: “for it was I--I, the Blackamoor--the negro--who saved your -ladyship from insult and outrage, also at Carlton House. But--” he -continued, glancing in a significant manner towards Dykes,--“all these -explanations shall be for another and more convenient opportunity. -In the meantime, Arthur,” he added, “it is for you to repair at once -to the Home Secretary, and obtain from him all we require to ensure -my complete freedom, by virtue of that acknowledgment bearing the -sign-manual of the King.” - -The Earl of Ellingham instantaneously undertook this commission, -although at so late an hour; but he fortunately happened to be aware -that the Secretary for the Home Department had a reception that -evening, and was therefore certain to be at home. - -Dykes, who had been led on from one source of astonishment to -another, and who perceived that Thomas Rainford not only possessed -powerful friends, but likewise the patronage and favour of the King -himself,--the worthy Mr. Dykes, we say, now volunteered to withdraw -into another room, merely requesting his prisoner to pledge his honour -not to leave the house until the order of the Secretary of State should -fully and completely release him from custody. The promise was given -forthwith; and Dykes repaired to the apartment where Old Death was -still remaining in the custody of Bingham and the other constables. - -Immediately after the officer had retired, Georgiana rose to take her -departure. This was the first time that she had ever seen the Medinas; -but she accosted them with the affability of a well-bred lady, and -proffered them her deepest and sincerest sympathy on account of the -dreadful loss which they had sustained. They received these proofs of -friendship in a manner which denoted the gratitude of their hearts; and -Georgiana, on taking leave, shook them cordially by the hand. - -Then, extending her hand likewise to him whose mere name had hitherto -been sufficient to send a cold shudder through her entire form,--yes, -extending her hand to him also, in the true spirit of Christian -forgiveness,--but without raising her eyes to his countenance, she -said, “Mr. Rainford, may you yet know many years of happiness!” - -He pressed her hand with grateful fervour--and a tear dropped upon it: -but he could not utter a word. His heart was too full to allow him to -express his thanks--his admiration of the noble conduct of that woman -whom, in a moment of delirium, as it were, he had outraged and ruined! -Ah! bitter--bitter were thy reminiscences as thus thou didst stand -before thy generous benefactress, Tom Rain! - -Mr. de Medina--perceiving that his son-in-law was overcome by emotions -which were not altogether intelligible to him--offered his arm to -escort Lady Hatfield to her carriage; and Georgiana drove home with a -heart rejoicing at the good she had done--for Lord Ellingham’s sake! - -The Jew returned to the apartment where he had left Esther and -Rainford; and there they all three mingled their grief together, for -the loss of the lovely and much-loved Tamar. - -But over this scene we shall draw a veil: sorrow such as they -experienced cannot be adequately described. Neither shall we do more -than allude to the violence of the grief and the poignancy of the -anguish which were felt when they repaired to the chamber to which the -remains of the murdered Tamar had been conveyed. The reader does not -require to be informed that this was a ceremony of the most painful -description. - -While, therefore, Mr. de Medina, Esther, and Rainford, are mingling -their tears and lamentations,--while, too, the Earl of Ellingham is -absent on his mission to the Home Secretary, armed with the document -which bore the autograph and seal of George the Fourth,--we shall -request our reader to accompany us to the apartment where Old Death -remains in the custody of Bingham and the subordinate officials. - - - - -CHAPTER CXVI. - -OLD DEATH. - - -When Dykes made his appearance in the room just alluded to, he found -Benjamin Bones rocking himself to and fro on the chair in which he was -seated, while Bingham and the runners were partaking of refreshments at -the table. - -The old miscreant was horribly pale; end there was a wild glaring of -the eyes which enhanced the ghastly expression of his countenance. The -man was in fact hideous to behold. - -Now that he had leisure for reflection, and that the excitement -attending the perpetration of his bloody vengeance had passed away, he -had become fearfully alive to the awful predicament in which be stood; -nevertheless his entire aspect denoted dogged obduracy; and could he -have recalled the past, it is more than probable that he would have -played precisely the same part over again. - -“Well, Mr. Dykes,” said Bingham, as the worthy thus addressed entered -the room, “will you jine us here in a bit of grub? You see, we’re -pitching into the cold jint like bricks; and the beer is fust-rate.” - -“So is the pickles,” growled one of the runners, who was naturally of a -surly disposition, and could not help speaking in a grunting tone even -when best pleased. - -“Come, sit down with us,” urged Mr. Bingham. “But, I say though, what -have you done with Tom Rain?” - -“Done with, him, indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Dykes, swelling with the -importance of a man who had astounding news to communicate: “what -hasn’t he done for his-self, you mean?” - -“Has he cut his throat--or taken poison?” demanded Old Death, eagerly. - -“Not he!” cried Dykes. “Why--you cursed old fence, you’ve always got -wicked notions in your head--you have. Mr. Rainford is a genelman, -every inch of him--and I always knowed it. He’s got a power of slap-up -friends as won’t leave him long in the lurch, I can tell you.” - -And the officer bestowed a significant wink upon his listeners, whose -curiosity he had now worked up to the highest pitch. - -“What--what has he done?” gasped Old Death, terribly excited with -suspense. “Do you mean to say----that is--has he----_escaped_?” he -demanded, scarcely able to give utterance to the word; so fearful was -he lest Tom Rain, against whom he cherished a fiend-like hatred, should -not again figure upon the scaffold. - -“Patience--patience,” said Mr. Dykes, taking a chair. “In the fust -place, you must know, that in comes a lady--and who should she be but -that very same Lady Hatfield as I’m sure Tom Rain robbed some months -ago near Hounslow, although I couldn’t bring the thing home to him at -the time----” - -“Well--well,” muttered Old Death, the agony of whose suspense was -perfectly excruciating. - -“But fust I should tell you,” resumed Mr. Dykes, “that Miss de Medina -comes in with her father and Lord Ellingham----” - -Old Death gave vent to a savage growl. - -“And now I understand all about that diamond affair, Bingham, you -know,” continued the officer; “_for, although one of the sisters is -a corpse and her face is disfigured_, I never in my life see such a -likeness as there is between them.” - -We should observe that Old Death had already learnt, from the -communications which had been made in his presence by the runners who -were first in charge of Tom Rain on this eventful evening, that it was -not Esther de Medina whom he had slain, but Tamar--the wife of the man -whom he considered to be his most mortal enemy. - -“But as I was a-saying,” continued Dykes, “in comes Lady Hatfield; and, -behold ye! she makes a regular set speech to prepare us all for what’s -about to take place; and then she tells us plump that Tom Rain has -received his Majesty’s free pardon!” - -“No--no!” yelled forth Old Death: “it’s a lie--it’s a lie!” - -“Hold your tongue, you cursed fence!” exclaimed Mr. Dykes, deeply -indignant at having his word thus unceremoniously called in question. -“Lady Hatfield had the paper with her, all reglar according to the -stattit in that case made and purwided.” - -“It’s a forgery--a rank forgery!” shrieked Benjamin Bones, his -countenance becoming truly appalling with its hideous workings. “And -you have let him go, upon that pretence----you----you have----” - -And he fell back in his chair, gasping for breath. - -“Wot an inweterate old scoundrel it is,” observed Bingham. “Here--give -him a glass of beer, Bill; for, by goles, he’ll suffocate--and the -scaffold will be cheated of its dues after all.” - -The runner, to whom the command was addressed, approached Old Death and -offered him a tumbler of porter: but the savage monster repulsed it -brutally, ferocious growls escaping from his breast. - -“Well--leave him alone, then,” said Bingham. - -The runner accordingly resumed his seat and his attack upon the cold -viands at the same time. - -“I tell you what it is, Mr. Ben Bones,” exclaimed Dykes: “I have seen -a many free pardons--’specially where genelmen that got into trouble -was concerned, for it’s seldom that a poor devil has interest enough to -get such a thing--and I know precious well that the one I see just now, -was as reglar as possible. It had the King’s own name--his sign-mangle, -they call it--and his precious big seal--and the Home Secretary’s -signatur underneath.” - -“He will escape--he will escape yet!” yelled forth Old Death, clasping -his hands together, as if in mortal agony. “The wretch--he will escape -the gibbet--he--he----” - -And again he gasped in so frightful a manner that his eyes seemed to be -starting from his head, and his attenuated frame literally writhed in -convulsive spasms. - -“Ah!” he exclaimed, after a long pause, during which his shocking -appearance had produced a dead silence of horror and amazement: “I have -thought of something”--and he grinned malignantly. “Did you not say -that men had been spirited away--in that Torrens’ affair----” - -“To be sure I did,” answered Bingham, to whom the question was -addressed: “and Tom Rain did it. Well, what about that, Mr. Dykes?” - -“Why--that seems to be knocked on the head also,” was the reply: -“though I have no doubt we shall get the reward, because we did our -dooty in arresting him; and if so be that the Home Secretary chooses to -grant him a pardon in that respect also----” - -“He won’t--he won’t!” ejaculated Old Death, with feverish--nay, with -hysterical excitement. “He does not dare do it! No--no--Tom Rain must -swing for that, at all events! ’Tis as good as being accessory to -the murder--’tis shielding the murderers! Ha! ah! he will swing for -that--he will swing for that!” - -“I’m blessed if he will, though,” said Dykes, bluntly; “for it seems -that he’s got a paper signed by the King which will put him all -to rights--and though I don’t exactly understand that part of the -business, I’m pretty sure Tom Rain is in no danger. Lord Ellingham has -got the matter in hand; and he has gone up to the Home Office. That’s -why I left Mr. Rainford at liberty--just taking his word of honour that -he wouldn’t bolt.” - -“He’ll deceive you--he’ll run away--he’ll escape!” cried Old Death. -“You are mad to trust him! Go--seize on him again--put hand-cuffs----” - -“Yes--on _you_, in no time--if you don’t hold your tongue,” interrupted -Mr. Dykes. “But ain’t all this a rummy business, though?” he demanded, -turning towards Bingham and the subordinate officials. “The old Jew -seems a most respectable gentleman--I’d take his bail for any amount, -if I was a magistrate. And really his daughter is a sweet young o’oman: -the Earl’s going to marry her, I’ll swear to it.” - -“Mr. Dykes--Mr. Dykes,” whispered Old Death in his ear; and the -officer, turning suddenly round again, perceived that the tall, gaunt -form of the fence was close behind him. - -“Well--what do you want?” demanded the functionary. - -“One word--one word only,” murmured Bones, in a low, guttural, -sepulchral tone, while his frame shook with nervous excitement: “one -word, I say--only one word.” - -“Now, then--what is it?” asked Dykes, suffering the old man to draw him -towards the recess containing the door which opened into the laboratory. - -“I must speak to you in private--I have something particular to tell -you,” was the urgent and impatient reply. “Come into this room--I -shan’t keep you a moment.” - -“Well--I suppose I must humour you,” said the officer, in a surly tone. -“One should look upon you as a dead man; for besides your nick-name, -the law will soon make you one in right good earnest.” - -With this brutal jest--brutal even in respect to so awful a miscreant -as Old Death--the Bow Street functionary conducted him into the -laboratory, where a light happened to be burning, and the door of which -apartment Benjamin Bones closed cautiously behind them. - -“Now, then--make haste, and tell us all you have got to say,” said -Dykes, eyeing the old man suspiciously and in such a meaning fashion as -to imply that any attempt at escape would assuredly prove abortive. - -“Mr. Dykes, you are a good man--and a kind man--I know you are,” began -Old Death, in a coaxing tone and with a manner indicating the most -dreadful state of nervous excitement: “you would not like to see a -poor, miserable old creature like myself sent to--to--the scaffold. -No--no--you would not--you would not. But I know that it must be made -worth your while--you understand me--and--and--I will give you all I -have--yes, all I have--several thousand pounds--for I have got several -thousands!” he added, with a ghastly grin. “But no one knows where they -are except myself,--and you and I can go together to the place--and I -will give you every guinea--yes, every guinea, Mr. Dykes--remember, -every guinea I say--if you will agree to this.” - -“Agree to what?” demanded Dykes, affecting not to comprehend the old -villain. - -“Oh! just as if you didn’t understand me, my dear friend--my good, -kind friend!” exclaimed Benjamin Bones, becoming more coaxing in his -tone, which was as low and subdued as his sepulchral voice would -admit. “Do consider for an instant--an old man like me to be in such -trouble! You wouldn’t be happy if you had it on your mind that you had -been the means--the actual means of sending such a wretched creature -as myself to the scaffold? Speak to me, Mr. Dykes! Five thousand -pounds--yes--five thousand pounds, in good gold guineas--if--if----” - -“If what?” asked the officer, with the most provoking determination not -to understand any thing that was not explained in unmistakeable words. - -“If you--you will let me escape!” whispered Old Death, while his eyes -seemed to penetrate to the very soul of the man towards whom he bent in -a confidential way as he spoke. - -“Now that’s English,” said Dykes, whose countenance gave not the -least indication of the manner in which he intended to receive the -proposition. - -“And--and you will agree, won’t you?” asked Bones. “Remember--five -thousand guineas--all to be paid in one lump--this very night----” - -“Well, now--it can’t be done, old chap,” interrupted Dykes, in a -cool--almost brutal manner, as if he were glad of the opportunity to -encourage hope for a time, merely for the sake of destroying it with a -rude hand and in an abrupt way. - -“It can’t be done,” murmured Old Death, despair seizing upon him: “it -can’t be done, you say?”--and his eyes glanced wildly around. - -“Is this all you have to tell me?” demanded the officer. “Because, if -so----” - -“Five thousand guineas!--and he refuses it!” ejaculated Bones. “My God! -what will become of me?--what will become of me?” - -And still his looks wandered rapidly about the apartment. - -“Now, then--let as go back into the next room, if you please,” said -Dykes; “for I don’t see no use in staying here, wasting our time.” - -At that instant Old Death’s eyes settled upon something on a shelf -close at hand; and, suddenly springing aside, he seized upon a -bottle--the particular object for which he had been searching with his -eager glances. - -Dykes, without even having a moment’s leisure to make a single -conjecture relative to his intentions, but instinctively foreseeing -that something wrong was contemplated, closed upon the old man in an -instant. - -With the speed of lightning did Benjamin Bones raise the bottle which -his right hand grasped; and in leas than the twinkling of an eye would -it have been smashed down upon the officer, who, seeing his danger, by -a natural impulse held down his head--when a yell of agony burst from -the lips of the old miscreant. - -For, as he raised the bottle, the glass stopper fell out, and the -burning vitriol streamed down on his head and over his countenance, a -few drops only falling upon Dykes, and those principally on his clothes. - -The officer instantaneously fell back; and Old Death threw himself on -the floor, where he rolled in horrid agonies--writhing like a stricken -snake, and shrieking franticly, “Oh! my eyes! my eyes!” - -Bingham and the subordinate functionaries rushed in from the -adjoining apartment; and, having assured themselves that Dykes -was unhurt--although his escape from the burning fluid was truly -miraculous--they turned their attention towards Old Death. One of -them obtained water, and dashed it over him; but still he rolled and -writhed--uttering dreadful cries, mingled with horrid imprecations--and -rubbing his face madly with his hands. For the miserable wretch was -burnt in an appalling manner; and his sight was gone! - -We must pause for a single moment to explain his design--that design -which so signally failed and brought down such frightful consequences -upon himself. Perceiving that all hope of being able to bribe Mr. Dykes -was frustrated, he thought of the only alternative that could possibly -be attempted--an escape. At the same instant that this last idea was -formed, it flashed to his mind that Dr. Lascelles had been accustomed -to keep many deadly poisons and ardent fluids in the laboratory. His -eyes wandered round in search of them; and they lighted upon a large -bottle, labelled “Vitriol.” To break it over the officer’s head, -and escape in the confusion that must ensue by means of the little -chamber which had once been his bed-room, and which, as the reader -may recollect, had two doors--one opening from the laboratory, and -the other into apartments beyond,--this was the hastily conceived but -discomfitted design of Old Death! - -The desperate project had failed--and in a desperate manner, too: for -the miscreant had received mortal injuries--and his sufferings were -horrible. A pint of vitriol had streamed over his head--penetrating -beneath his clothes, all down his neck and chest--burning him horribly, -even to his very eyes in their sockets! - -Rainford, alarmed by the hideous yells which had reached him in another -part of the spacious house, rushed into the laboratory to ascertain -the cause, having begged Mr. de Medina and Esther to await his return. -At the same instant that he entered by one door, Jacob Smith made his -appearance by another; and Dykes hastily explained what had occurred. -Rainford accordingly issued immediate orders to transport the dying -man to a bed-chamber; and fortunately, at this crisis, Dr. Lascelles -arrived at the house. - -The physician had been alarmed by the rumours which prevailed relative -to the incidents that had occurred in Red Lion Street: but a few -words, rapidly exchanged with Tom Rain, relieved the doctor of all -apprehensions on account of his friend--and all his attention was now -devoted to Old Death. - -[Illustration] - -But though the laboratory promptly supplied all the remedies needed in -such a case, their application was vain. They gave relief, it is true: -but they could not arrest the rapid advances which death was making -upon the wretched old man. - -“Jacob,” cried the doctor: “Jacob Smith, I say,” he repeated more -impatiently, the lad not having heard his first summons; “hand me that -bottle, and----” - -“Jacob Smith!” cried Old Death, his moanings suddenly ceasing at the -mention of that name: “is he here? Then let me tell him----My God! -this burning sensation----Jacob--Jacob--my poor boy----Oh! my eyes--my -eyes----doctor, do something to my eyes--they are like red hot coals in -my head----Jacob--I--I--am your----father!” - -“My father!” almost shrieked the lad, in the wildness of his amazement -at these tidings: then, falling on his knees by the bed-side, he -exclaimed, “Oh! if you are indeed my parent----” - -“I am--I am, Jacob,” exclaimed the dying wretch: “but these -tortures----why do they tear my flesh with pincers?--why do they put -hot skewers into my eyes? Doctor--doctor----take away the red-hot -iron----lift me out of the fire----take me away, I say--save me--save -me--I am in flames--I am burning----My God! I am burning!” - -“Father--father,” cried Jacob, in a tone of agonising appeal; “compose -yourself--think of all your sins--repent----” - -“Will no one snatch me from the fire?” yelled forth Old Death, -writhing and tossing upon the bed in mortal pains: “perdition seize -ye, wretches--I am burning--I am in flames--my eyes scorch me--my -flesh is all seared over with red-hot irons----Oh! it is hell--it is -hell! Yes--I am in hell----My God! this is my punishment! Oh! send -me back to the world again--let me retrieve the past--let me live my -existence once more--I will be good--I will not sin! No--no--for hell -is terribly--terrible--and these fires----Oh! horror--horror--snakes -of flame have seized upon me----they are gnawing at my heart--they -have thrust their fiery stings into my eyes--they wind themselves -round and round me--horror--horror--there--I feel them now--Oh! -mercy--mercy----mercy----mer----” - -“This is frightful!” whispered Tom Rain to Dr. Lascelles; and all the -others present at the dreadful scene; shuddered from head to foot. - -Jacob Smith buried his face in his hands and sobbed convulsively. - -The dying man still continued to rave, and shriek, and yell for a -short time longer: but his powers of articulation rapidly failed--his -writhings grew less violent, until they ceased altogether,--and in a -few minutes, the dark spirit which had never spared and never pitied -human creature, fled for ever! - - - - -CHAPTER CXVII. - -AN EXPLANATORY CONVERSATION. - - -Three days had elapsed since that eventful evening on which so many -exciting incidents occurred; and the scene now changes to the dwelling -of Dr. Lascelles in Grafton Street. - -It was about four in the afternoon and the physician was seated in his -study, Lord Ellingham being his companion at the time. - -“At length, my dear doctor,” said the nobleman, “you have found leisure -to accord me an hour to give me those explanations which my afflicted -brother feels himself incapable to enter into at present. The loss of -Tamar, whose funeral is to take place the day after to-morrow, has -proved almost a mortal blow to his generous heart: but the kindness of -Mr. de Medina and Esther, who insisted upon having him with them at -Finchley, must in some degree mitigate his grief. And yet, alas! that -bereaved father and mourning sister have themselves such bitter need of -solace! Just heaven! it was a frightful catastrophe!” - -“And the murderer perished in a frightful manner,” added the physician. -“But now that the excitement created by these appalling events, and -by all the other circumstances which Old Death’s crime was the means -of bringing to light, has somewhat subsided,--not only in respect to -the public, but likewise with regard to the minds of those persons -privately interested in the whole affair,--we may venture to converse -upon the topic in the hope of approaching it with some degree of -calmness. In the first place, my dear Arthur, tell me how you fared -with the Home Secretary--I mean, give me the details of your visit to -that Minister.” - -“On my arrival at his official residence,” said the Earl, “on the -dreadful night in question, I sent up my card with a message soliciting -an immediate and private audience; and the favour was instantaneously -granted. In as succinct a manner as possible, I explained to the -Minister all that it was necessary to communicate. I told him that -Thomas Rainford, who had been doomed to death and publicly executed, -had survived the frightful ordeal of the scaffold; but relative -to the means or the agents of his resuscitation, I proffered no -explanation--and none was demanded of me. The Minister instantly -recollected the circumstance of having signed a full and complete -pardon on behalf of Rainford, some weeks ago, and at the intercession -of the King; and, doubtless knowing well the wayward character of -George the Fourth, he perhaps thought that the less he enquired into -the business, the better. I then gave him as much information relative -to the recent proceedings of Rainford as was known to myself; and -when the Minister heard that he was the individual who had played so -mysterious a part in the affair of Torrens, his brow lowered. But -I immediately showed him the document signed by George the Fourth; -and I gave him to understand that Rainford was acquainted with such -proofs of the King’s profligacy and unprincipled character, as would -positively compromise the safety of the throne if they were published. -This species of threat I was compelled to hold out, inasmuch as the -Home Secretary seemed inclined to permit matters to take their course -without any interference on his part. But, when he heard that the King -had given that solemn acknowledgment of obligation in order to hush up -some affair of which he was ashamed and likewise seriously alarmed, the -Minister intimated his readiness to do any thing I required to avoid a -scandal that might compromise his royal master. He nevertheless urged -that an immense excitement had already been created in the metropolis, -and which would of course spread to the provinces, by that sudden -discovery that Thomas Rainford had not only escaped the scaffold, but -had actually taken upon himself the functions of a judge in disposing -of the murderers of Sir Henry Courtenay, according to his own caprice -and will. ‘_In fact_,’ said the Minister, ‘_the public will imagine -that Rainford himself was an accomplice in the assassination of the -baronet; and every one will ask what has been done with the two men, -Splint and Pedler, who have thus been spirited away_.’--To this I could -only reply that I was well assured of Rainford’s complete innocence -in respect to the murder of Sir Henry Courtenay; that he had adopted -certain opinions relative to the reformation of criminals, and had -chosen to test his system by applying it to those men; that the men -were no longer in the country, but whither they had been sent I knew -full well Rainford would never divulge to the Government; and that -the Minister must decide between two alternatives--namely, whether he -would dare public opinion in the case, or whether he would have his -royal master seriously compromised. I can assure you, my dear doctor, -that it gave me great pain and was most repugnant to my feelings to be -compelled to hold out any menace of this kind but could I leave a stone -unturned that would serve the interest of my generous half-brother?” - -“You already to some extent know the motives which induced Rainford -to return to England instead of proceeding to America, and adopt the -disguise under the cloak of which he broke up Old Death’s gang?” said -the physician, enquiringly. - -“I gathered a few rapid and broken details from the Medinas, during -the ride from Finchley to Red Lion Street, on that fatal evening -when Jacob Smith came to the Manor, where I happened to be at the -time, to announce the awful event which had occurred,” replied the -Earl. “But you may readily believe that both Mr. de Medina and Esther -were too profoundly afflicted to be able to give me any very minute -explanations. Moreover, I was myself so terribly excited, and so full -of serious apprehensions----” - -“I understand--’twas quite natural,” interrupted the doctor. “But pray -proceed with your narrative of the interview with the Secretary of -State.” - -“I have little more to say upon that subject,” observed Lord -Ellingham. “The Minister balanced for some minutes between the -alternatives which I submitted to him, and it was evident that he -felt deeply grieved and chagrined at the consequences of the royal -indiscretions,--indiscretions which had led the King to sign two -important papers, both seriously affecting the proper and legitimate -course of justice. But, in the end, he yielded to the alternative -which was favourable to our wishes; and, placing himself at his desk, -he wrote the order to set Thomas Rainford free, which I delivered to -the Bow Street officers on my return to Red Lion Street shortly after -midnight.” - -“It is therefore certain that no further apprehensions need be -entertained on that head?” enquired the physician. - -“None,” answered the Earl of Ellingham. “The Coroner’s Inquest, -which sate upon the bodies of Tamar and Benjamin Bones yesterday, -elicited, as you are well aware, the fact that the old man had been -imprisoned by Rainford, and visited first by Esther, and on the last -and fatal occasion by her unfortunate sister, merely with a view to his -reformation and redemption from a course of crime----” - -“And, therefore,” added the physician, “public opinion is actually -in favour of Rainford at this moment. But how happened it that Lady -Hatfield was enabled to procure that document which conferred a full -pardon upon him?” - -“That woman possesses a most generous--a most noble heart!” -exclaimed the Earl. “The voluptuous monarch sought to render her the -victim of his lust; and it suddenly struck her, when his designs -became unmistakeably apparent, that she might avail herself of the -circumstance to perform an act calculated to exhibit her sincere -friendship for me. She accordingly affected to yield in a certain -measure to his disgusting overtures: she overcame the natural scruples -of a pure soul, so far as to give vague promises and encourage the -King’s passion, in order to obtain from him the document which she -required. And she succeeded. But, on the occasion of that interview -with the King at which he presented her with the precious paper, she -was nearly falling a victim to her generous conduct and to his brutal -violence. An extraordinary combination of circumstances, however, -had led Rainford into the palace on that very evening; and accident -enabled him not only to deliver Georgiana from the power of the King, -but likewise to extort from his Majesty that written promise of deep -obligation which has proved so vitally important to his interests.” - -“The entire affair is truly romantic,” observed the doctor. “And now -you wish me to give you in detail an explanation of all Rainford’s late -proceedings?” - -“I am already acquainted with much concerning them, and conjecture -enables me to comprehend more,” resumed the nobleman: “at the same -time, I should be pleased to hear a connected account from your lips.” - -“It is by no means a disagreeable task for me to narrate incidents -which prove the existence of so many generous traits in the heart of -that man whom I was the means of restoring to life and to the world,” -said Dr. Lascelles; “for since that day on which he opened his eyes -in my laboratory, I have regarded him almost in the light of a son. -I must begin by informing you that Rainford was deeply touched by a -conversation which he had with you, relative to the miseries and crimes -of the poor and ignorant classes of society----” - -“That conversation took place in the evening following his -resuscitation,” observed Arthur,--“the same evening on which I captured -Benjamin Bones, as he was ascending from the subterranean.” - -“The discourse which yourself and your half-brother had together on -that occasion,” resumed the doctor, “induced him to reflect profoundly -upon the nature of crime--the circumstances which engender, and -afterwards encourage it--and the best modes of producing a reformation. -That train of thought led him to ponder upon other matters, essentially -regarding yourself. For he saw that Benjamin Bones would prove your -most implacable enemy: he knew that old man’s character well--and he -felt assured that he would devise and carry into effect some atrocious -schemes of vengeance against you. These convictions filled Rainford’s -mind with the gloomiest apprehensions, although he contrived to veil -them from you. He trembled lest you should fall into the snares which -that incarnate fiend--God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead--was -certain to spread at your feet; and he resolved to adopt some means -to counteract the effects of that man’s malignant spite. In a word, -he determined, at any sacrifice, to watch over that brother who had -acted so generously and nobly towards him. But not to a soul did he -communicate his ideas, until he had safely embarked, with Tamar, -Jacob Smith, and Charley Watts, on board the American packet-ship at -Havre-de-Grace. Then he revealed his intentions to Tamar; and she -immediately fell into his views--for she knew no will save his own. -The captain of the ship consented, for a reward, to touch at Guernsey; -and there Rainford, his wife, the youth, and the boy, were landed in -the middle of the night. The next morning, your half-brother and Cæsar -appeared in the disguise of blackamoors; and from Saint Peter’s Port, -the capital of the island, they sailed for Weymouth--Tamar with Charley -Watts proceeding by way of Southampton. The rendezvous was London; and -all Rainford’s plans, so far as he could forecast them, were already -arranged. On her arrival in the metropolis, Tamar immediately sent for -her father and sister to the inn at which she alighted; and to them she -communicated her husband’s design. It was of course necessary to keep -the entire scheme concealed from yourself; as it was well known that -you would never rest until you had persuaded your brother to quit the -country again, were you aware of his return. At that time you were not -engaged to Esther; and she had therefore no hesitation in maintaining -this much of duplicity towards you. Subsequently--I mean, after your -engagement together--she felt herself bound still to guard inviolably -a secret that had your welfare as its basis. Well, then, Mr. de Medina -and Esther lent themselves to the project--and cheerfully too, because -they recognised all the importance of allowing Rainford to adopt the -necessary measures to ensure your complete safety. Tamar and Charley -Watts accordingly took up their abode at Finchley Manor, the proper -precautions being taken to enable them to dwell there in the strictest -privacy, and the fidelity of the servants being well assured in respect -to their presence at that house. So far all proceeded satisfactorily; -and in the meantime Rainford, accompanied by Jacob Smith, whom he -named Cæsar, arrived in London. You may conceive my surprise when -one evening, having been informed by my servant that an East Indian -gentleman was waiting to see me in the drawing-room, I proceeded to -that apartment and found myself in the presence of Thomas Rainford! I -did not recognize him at once; but he speedily made himself known to -me; and, when his plans were developed, I readily agreed to aid him -in their accomplishment. As he had expected and indeed calculated, I -had full and complete control over the houses in Red Lion and Turnmill -Streets; and he felt convinced that you would never think of visiting -them. You had purchased them merely to deprive Benjamin Bones of the -power of plunging his victims into the subterranean cells; and you -allowed me the use of the premises for my laboratory. Under all these -circumstances, the house in Red Lion Street was the best suited to -Rainford’s designs; and it was speedily furnished in a suitable manner. -The neighbours believed that a retired East Indian merchant had taken -the place; and therefore no surprise--no excitement was occasioned, -when they perceived that the new tenant had his private carriage -and numerous dependants. But how did Rainford manage to obtain the -assistance of several faithful persons, who were blindly obedient to -his will, and to one of whom--named Wilton--he entrusted his entire -history? They were all poor and deserving persons whom I knew well--men -who had at different times been my patients, and in whom I felt an -interest. Thus, in a very few days, the most complete arrangements were -effected; and just at the moment when Rainford was prepared to commence -operations, and when he had succeeded in tracing the abode of Benjamin -Bones, chance threw him in the way of a certain John Jeffreys, whom -he resolved to render subservient to his purposes in uprooting the -atrocious gang.” - -The physician then proceeded to relate the manner in which Rainford -had drawn Jeffreys into his service,--the revelations made to him by -that individual’s unfolding all the dreadful schemes of vengeance -contemplated by Old Death, and directed against the happiness of -the Earl himself,--the projected exhumation of the coffin in Saint -Luke’s church-yard, and the ferocious idea of blinding Lady Hatfield -and Esther de Medina,--the mode in which these diabolical aims were -frustrated by the arrest of all the members of Old Death’s gang,--and -the faithful conduct of Jeffreys. Dr. Lascelles also narrated the -proceedings of Rainford in the difficult affair of Mr. Torrens,--how, -disguised as an old man, and admirably sustaining that character, he -had entrapped Sir Christopher Blunt to the house in Red Lion Street -to preside at the examination of the two prisoners,--and how he (Dr. -Lascelles) had become a party to that transaction,--all of which -particulars are well known to the reader. Finally, the physician made -the Earl acquainted with the nature and the results of the system -of reformation applied to all the members of the gang,--how it had -succeeded in respect to Tidmarsh, the Bunces, Pedler and Splint,--and -how Esther de Medina had deputed her unfortunate sister to visit -Benjamin Bones on that fatal evening which was characterised by a -savage murder! - -There was only one point connected with Rainford’s affairs, on which -the Earl and the physician did not touch; and this was the parentage -of little Charley Watts. The doctor was unacquainted with the fact -that Rainford had some years back forcibly violated the person of -Lady Hatfield, and that the issue of this crime was the boy who still -bore the name by which we have just called him. The Earl of Ellingham -naturally veiled the circumstance even from a friend so intimate and -sincere as Lascelles; and though the doctor knew that Lady Hatfield had -been a mother, he also kept this knowledge to himself, and was very far -from suspecting the true history of Charley Watts. Lascelles, it will -be remembered, had made the discovery relative to Georgiana on that -occasion when he attended her in her severe illness, and when he gave -her a soporific, as recorded in the early part of this work: but he had -never mentioned that discovery to a soul;--and the Earl of Ellingham -was as far from supposing that Lady Hatfield’s loss of chastity was -known to the physician, as the physician was from entertaining even the -remotest idea relative to the parentage of the boy. - -But Rainford was already aware that this boy was his own son--the issue -of the outrage which he had perpetrated upon Lady Hatfield! Yes--on the -evening before this interview between the Earl of Ellingham and Dr. -Lascelles, the former had so far intruded upon his brother’s profound -grief, as to make to him a revelation which a sense of duty forbade -him to delay. Rainford also learnt, at the same time, that Georgiana -was herself acquainted with the fact of her child being in his -care--placed under his protection as it were by the inscrutable decrees -of Providence! But for the sake of the honour of Lady Hatfield, and of -sparing Rainford from the necessity of giving unpleasant and degrading -explanations to his friends, it had been determined between Lord -Ellingham and himself that the boy should still continue to bear the -name of Watts, and that his real parentage should be unacknowledged--at -least for the present. - -In order not to dwell with tedious minuteness upon this portion of our -narrative, we shall briefly state that the funeral of Tamar took place -on the day appointed; and if the tears of heart-felt grief streaming -from the eyes of true mourners can avail for the souls of the departed, -then the spirit of the murdered Jewess must have received ample solace -and full propitiation in those regions to which it had taken wing! - -But how deep a gloom had fallen upon the family of Medina;--and -how poignant was the anguish which the bereaved father and sister -experienced for the departed! - -Nor less acute was the sorrow of the husband who survived that fair but -prematurely crushed flower of Israel;--for immense was thy love for -her, Tom Rain! - - - - -CHAPTER CXVIII. - -THE INSOLVENT DEBTORS’ COURT. - - -Passing through Portugal Street, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, you may perceive -a low, dingy-looking building, protected by a row of tall iron -railings, and with steps leading to the front entrance. This structure -is of so dubious an aspect that it places the stranger in a profound -state of uncertainty as to whether it be the lobby of a criminal prison -or a Methodist chapel; and the supposed stranger is not a little -surprised when he learns, on inquiry, that this architectural mystery -is neither more nor less than the Court for the Relief of Insolvent -Debtors. - -At about nine o’clock in the morning the immediate vicinity of the -Court begins to wear a very business-like appearance: that is to say, -both sides of the street are thronged with the most curious specimens -of human nature which it is possible to encounter outside of Newgate -or of the Bench. The wonder is whence such a host of ill-looking -fellows can have sprung, or whither they can be going, unless it is to -either of the two places just named. Then comes the natural question, -“But who are they?” The answer is at hand: some are the turnkeys of -the County Prisons and the tipstaves of the Bench, having in their -charge prisoners about to be heard at the Court,--others are the usual -hangers-on and errand-seekers who are always to be found lurking about -such places,--while a third set are the friends or else the opposing -creditors of the Insolvents. The public-house opposite the Court, and -the one at the side are also filled with persons of those descriptions; -and before ten o’clock in the morning many pots of porter are disposed -of--many quarterns of gin dispensed in two or three “outs”--and many -screws of tobacco puffed off in smoke. - -Inside the Court, business commences in somewhat a more serious manner. -Four or five barristers take their places in a large box divided into -two compartments like pews in a church: a couple of Commissioners seat -themselves on a bench made in very humble imitation indeed of those in -the Courts at Westminster;--a single reporter lounges into the snug -crib so kindly allotted to the representatives of the press;--several -attorneys and attorneys’ clerks gather round the table between the -counsel’s seats and the bench:--the Insolvents are penned up altogether -in a sort of human fold on the right as you go into the tribunal;--and -at the back a crowd of unwashed faces rise amphitheatrically in the -compartment appropriated to the audience. The Commissioners endeavour -to look as much like the Judges of the Land as possible;--the -barristers affect all the consequence and airs of Serjeants-at-Law or -King’s Counsel;--the Insolvents try to seem as happy as if they had -nothing awkward in their schedules to account for;--and the spectators -raise heaven and earth to appear respectable: but each and all of -these attempts are the most decided failures which it is possible -to conceive. A general air of seediness pervades the place: the -professional wigs are dirty and out of curl, and the forensic gowns -thread-bare;--and the disagreeable impression thus created on the mind -of the visitor, is enhanced to no trifling degree by a sickly smell of -perspiration combined with the stale odour of tobacco smoke retained in -the garments of the audience. - -Amongst the Insolvents were two individuals whose appearance formed a -most striking contrast. These were Mr. Joshua Sheepshanks and Mr. Frank -Curtis. - -The former was dressed in deep black, with a white neck-cloth, and -black cotton gloves a great deal too large for his hands: he had also -put black crape round his hat, in the hope of creating the sympathy -of the Commissioners by producing the impression of having sustained -some serious and recent family loss. His sallow face was elongated with -the awful sanctimoniousness which characterised it: his black hair was -combed sleekly down over his forehead;--and he sate bolt upright on the -hard bench, every now and then raising his eyes to heaven--or rather to -the lanthorn on the roof of the Court--as if in silent prayer. - -Mr. Frank Curtis was attired in his habitually flash manner; and as -he lolled back in his seat, he now and then bestowed a significant -wink upon his attorney at the table, or exchanged a few familiar -observations with the tipstaff, whom he had treated to egg-hot at the -public-house opposite before they entered the Court. - -But where was Captain O’Blunderbuss? Had he deserted his friend on this -trying occasion? Gentle reader, do not suppose for an instant that -the gallant officer was capable of what he himself would describe to -be the “most bastely maneness”--so long as Frank had a shilling left -in his pocket, or the ability to raise one! The captain, then, _was_ -there--and in the vicinity of Mr. Curtis; for the terrible Irishman had -posted himself as near as possible to the box in which the Insolvents -stand to be examined--in the first place, that when Frank should mount -to that “bad eminence,” he might be close by to encourage him with -his looks; and, in the second place, he had taken that particular -stand as the one whence he could best dart ferocious glances at the -Commissioners, in case these functionaries should take it into their -heads to deal harshly with his friend. - -And now the business of that day’s proceeding, commenced; and the Clerk -of the Court bawled out in a loud tone--“Joshua Sheepshanks!” - -“Here, my Christian friend!” groaned the religious gentleman, drawing -himself slowly up to his full, thin, lanky height, and beginning to -move slowly and solemnly towards the box above-mentioned. - -“Now, then--Joshua Sheepshanks!” cried the clerk, in a sharp tone. - -“Come--Joshua Sheepshanks--look alive!” grumbled the official who -administers the oaths to the Insolvents. - -“Cut along, old fellow,” whispered Frank Curtis, giving the -sanctimonious dissenter a hearty pinch on the leg as he passed by. - -Mr. Sheepshanks uttered a low moan--cast up his eyes towards the -lanthorn--muttered something about his having “fallen amongst the -ungodly”--and ended by hoisting himself into the box with some degree -of alacrity, his slow movements having rendered the Court impatient. - -“Does any counsel appear for you, Joshua Sheepshanks?” demanded the -clerk. - -“None--unless it be the Lord’s will that I should be supported by -divine grace,” answered the dissenting minister, in so doleful a tone -and with such a solemn shaking of the head that the whole Court was -alarmed lest he was about to go off in a fit. - -“I appear to oppose on behalf of several creditors,” said Mr. -Bulliwell, one of the leading barristers practising in that Court. - -“Oh! the persevering bitterness of those rancorous men!” exclaimed Mr. -Sheepshanks, clasping his hands together, and turning up the whites of -his eyes in an appalling fashion. - -“Silence, Insolvent!” cried the clerk, in a sharp tone. - -Meantime, the Commissioners had both been taking a long and -simultaneous stare at the religious gentleman; and though one was -purblind and the other in his dotage, they nevertheless seemed to -arrive in the long run at pretty well the same conclusion--which -was, that Mr. Sheepshanks was a dreadful humbug. The glances they -interchanged through their spectacles expressed to each other this -conviction; and the sharper of the two, who rejoiced in the name of -Sneesby, forthwith proceeded to examine the schedule. - -“I see that you were once a missionary in the _South-Sea Islands Bible -Circulating Society_, Insolvent?” said this learned functionary. - -“Under the divine favour, I was such a vessel in the good cause,” -answered Mr. Sheepshanks, with the invariable nasal twang of hypocrisy. - -“A what?” demanded Mr. Commissioner Sneesby, in an impatient tone. - -“He says he was a _vessel_, sir,” observed Mr. Bulliwell, the -barrister. “It is a word much in vogue amongst the religious world.” - -“Oh! the Insolvent calls himself a vessel--does he?” exclaimed the -Commissioner. “Well--he has come to a pretty anchorage at last.” - -“And yet, sir, I can assure you he is no anchorite,” said Mr. Bulliwell. - -These were jokes on the part of the Commissioner and the counsel; and -therefore the attorneys, the clerks, and the audience tittered, as in -duty bound when the wig forgot its wisdom and indulged in wit; and the -Insolvents all laughed too--but for another reason. In fact, Mr. Frank -Curtis had applied his right hand to his nose, and extended it in a -fan-like form--or, in other words, he “took a sight” at the learned -Commissioner, and worked an imaginary coffee-mill at the same time with -his left hand. - -Order being restored, the business proceeded. - -“And, having been a missionary, I observe by your schedule, that -you turned a Dissenting Minister, Insolvent?” said Mr. Commissioner -Sneesby, interrogatively. - -“I was a brand snatched from the burning, sir,” replied Mr. -Sheepshanks; “and, having sorely wrestled with Satan----” - -“Give me a direct answer, man!” cried the Commissioner, sharply. “Did -you leave an institution connected with the Established Church and -become a dissenter?” - -“Heaven so willed it,” responded the sanctimonious insolvent, in a -droning voice: “I had a call--and I obeyed it.” - -“Who opposes this man?” enquired the Commissioner. - -“Jeremiah Chubbley!” vociferated the Clerk of the Court. - -“Here!” growled a man dressed as a bricklayer. - -“Now, then, Jeremiah Chubbley--stand up in the witness-box,” continued -the clerk. - -“Come, Mr. Chubbley--make haste,” said Mr. Bulliwell, the barrister, -speaking more civilly and using the honorary prefix of _Mister_, -because he had been retained by the individual to whom he applied it. - -Mr. Chubbley mounted the witness-box; and while the oath was being -administered to him, both the Commissioners inflicted a long stare -on his countenance just to satisfy themselves by this physiognomical -scrutiny whether he were a trust-worthy person or not;--for -Commissioners in the Insolvents’ Court are great physiognomists--very -great physiognomists indeed. - -“Your name is Jeremiah Chubbley?” said Mr. Bulliwell, rising in a -stately manner, and darting a ferocious glance towards Mr. Sheepshanks, -as much as to say--“Now, my man, I am going to elicit things against -you that will prove you to be the greatest rogue in existence.” - -“Yes--my name be Chubbley, sir,” answered the opposing creditor. “But I -paid you to tackle that there sneaking-looking chap over there, and not -to ke-vestion me.” - -“My dear sir,” said Mr. Bulliwell, blandly, “this is the way of -conducting an opposition where counsel is employed. Your name is -Jeremiah Chubbley; and you are a master-bricklayer, I believe?” - -“I told ’ee so a veek ago,” replied the opposing creditor, savagely. - -“Yes--yes: but you must tell the learned Commissioners all over again -what you told me,” gently remonstrated Mr. Bulliwell. “I believe you -are the proprietor of a chapel in the Tottenham Court Road?” - -“Yes--I be, sir,” responded Mr. Chubbley. “I built she--and a stronger, -better, or more comfortabler place of washup you wouldn’t find in all -London--least ways, barrin’ St. Paul’s.” - -“Well--and this chapel was to let some three or four months ago, I -believe?” continued Mr. Bulliwell. - -“Yes--it were, sir: and I had blackguards up at the grocer’s round the -corner----” - -“Had what, man?” demanded the Commissioners simultaneously, and as it -were in the same breath. - -“He means that he put placards up at a neighbouring grocer’s, sir,” -mildly explained Mr. Bulliwell, then, turning again to the opposing -creditor, the learned counsel said, “And I believe that the Insolvent -was attracted by the placards, and applied to you in consequence?” - -“He come round to my house, sir, jest as me and my missus was a sitting -down to dinner,” answered Mr. Chubbley. “It was biled pork and greens -we had, I remember; cos says I to my missus, says I----” - -“Well--well, Mr. Chubbley,” interrupted the counsel: “we will proceed, -if you please. The Insolvent came round to you, and enquired about the -chapel that was to let?” - -“Yes--he did: and he axed a many ke-vestions about the orgin and the -pulpit, and the westry--and so on.” - -“And, being satisfied with your replies, he agreed to take the chapel?” - -“Yes--and to pay a ke-varter in adwance, which was eleven pound ten,” -answered Mr. Chubbley. - -“Well--what took place next?” inquired one of the Commissioners, -growing impatient, while his brother-judge took a nap. - -“Please, my lud, he sits down and pitches into the biled pork and -greens,” responded the opposing creditor. - -There was a laugh amongst the audience; but as the joke did not arise -from either the bench or the bar, the ushers bawled out “Silence!” as -loudly as they could. - -“The Insolvent, I believe, not only omitted to pay the quarter in -advance,” said Mr. Bulliwell, “but succeeded in obtaining from you the -loan of forty pounds?” - -“In hard cash--and that’s what aggerewates me and my missus so agin -him,” replied the opposing creditor. - -“But in what manner did he obtain those forty pounds?” asked Mr. -Bulliwell. “Tell the learned Commissioners----” - -“Vy--one on ’em’s asleep--and so it’s no use a-speaking to he!” -exclaimed Mr. Chubbley. - -There was another laugh, which the clerks and ushers immediately -suppressed; and Captain O’Blunderbuss ran a narrow risk of being -ignominiously bundled out of the Court for observing in a tone -somewhat above a whisper, “Be Jasus! and that’s as thrue as that every -rale Irishman loves potheen!” But the best of the business was that -the somnolent Commissioner woke up; and catching the fag end of a -laugh accompanied by the loud cries of “Silence!” on the part of the -officials of the Court, he immediately fancied that some person had -perpetrated a great breach of decorum, and exclaimed in a severe tone, -“Whoever is the cause of disturbance must be turned out.” Hereupon -there was another laugh; and even Mr. Bulliwell himself was compelled -to stoop down and pretend to examine his brief in order to conceal the -mobility of his risible muscles. - -“Come, come--let the business proceed,” said Commissioner Sneesby, -anxious to relieve his brother-functionary from any farther -embarrassment; for the latter learned gentleman was quite bewildered by -the renewed hilarity which his words had provoked. - -“Tell the bench how the Insolvent obtained from you the forty pounds, -Mr. Chubbley,” exclaimed Mr. Bulliwell. - -“Please, sir--my missus has on’y got von eye----” - -“Well--and what has that to do with it?” demanded Mr. Commissioner -Sneesby. - -“Jest this, my lud--that that ’ere sneaking feller got on the blind -side of she, and began a pitching into she all kind of gammon,--calling -his-self a chosen wessel, and telling her how she would be sartain -sure of going to heaven if we on’y let him have the funds to set up -in business as a preacher. He swore that all the airistocracy was -a-dying to hear him in the pulpit: and so he persuades my missus to be -pew-opener; and he gammons me to call myself a Helder----” - -“A what?” exclaimed Commissioner Sneesby. - -“An Elder, sir,” observed Mr. Bulliwell: for it is to be remarked that -when Judges at Westminster or Commissioners in Portugal Street cannot -understand any thing--or affect not to do so--the counsel are always -prepared to give them an explanation;--yet when these counsel become -Judges or Commissioners in their turn, they grow just as opaque of -intellect and as slow of comprehension as those whom they were once -accustomed to enlighten. - -“Well--go on, man,” said Commissioner Sneesby, addressing himself to -the opposing creditor. - -“Well, my lud,” proceeded Mr. Chubbley, “that there sniggering feller -come over us all in sich a vay vith his blessed insinivations, that -we all thought him a perfect saint; and we was glad to vipe off the -dust of sich a man’s shoes, as the sayin’ is. So I goes to my friend -Cheesewright, the grocer, and I says, says I, ‘Cheesey, my boy, you -must be a Helder, too.’ So Cheesewright axes what a Helder is; and when -I tells him that it’s to purside over a chapel in which a reglar saint -holds forth, and that all Helders is booked for the right place in -t’other world, he says, says he, ‘Chubbley, my boy, tip us your fist; -and I’m your man for a Helder too.’” - -“And now tell the learned Commissioners what this business has to do -with your opposition to the Insolvent’s discharge,” said Mr. Bulliwell, -seeing that the bench was growing impatient. - -“Vy, my luds,” continued Chubbley, scratching his head, “that there -insinivating chap gets Cheesey to lend him his acceptance for thirty -pounds, and he comes to me and gets me to write my name along the back -on it--and so he gets it discounted, and leaves us to pay it.” - -Here Mr. Joshua Sheepshanks held up his hands and groaned aloud--as if -in horrified dismay at the construction put upon his conduct. - -“Silence, Insolvent!” exclaimed the usher, ferociously. - -“And now, Mr. Chubbley,” resumed Mr. Bulliwell, “what answer did you -obtain from the Insolvent when you stated to him that you had heard -certain reports which made you anxious to receive security for the rent -of the chapel, the forty pounds, and the amount of the bill for which -you were liable?” - -“He said as how that the chapel hadn’t succeeded as he thought it would -have done--that he’d been disappinted--and that me and Cheesewright -must have patience.” - -“And when you told him that you and Mr. Cheesewright would not wait any -longer--what did he say?” - -“He said we was a generation of wipers.” - -“And when you put him into prison?” - -“He sent for me, and said I mustn’t hope to be paid in this world; but -as I’d laid up for myself a treasure in heaven, he expected me to let -him out of quod for nothink.” - -There was a general titter in which bench and bar joined; and the only -demure countenances present were those of the creditor who was done, -and Mr. Sheepshanks who had done him. In fact this pious gentleman was -so overcome by the unpleasantness of his position, that he compared -himself, in the religious anguish of his spirit, to the man who went -down to Jericho and fell amongst thieves. - -Silence being again restored, two other opposing creditors were -examined in their turn; and their evidence went to prove that Mr. -Joshua Sheepshanks had obtained from them a quantity of goods under -such very questionable pretences, that he might think himself -exceedingly fortunate in having been sent to the King’s Bench instead -of to Newgate. - -The opposition having arrived at this stage, Mr. Bulliwell proceeded to -address the Court in a long and furious speech based upon the testimony -that had been given against the Insolvent. The agreeable appellations -of “sanctimonious hypocrite,” “double-faced ranter,” “unprincipled -trader in pious duplicities,” and such like terms, were freely applied -to Mr. Joshua Sheepshanks in the course of this oration. The learned -gentleman dwelt bitterly--but not one atom more severely than the -subject deserved--upon the rascally scoundrelism which is practised -by those persons who are denominated “saints;” and he concluded a -rather eloquent speech by praying the Court to express its sense of the -Insolvent’s criminality by remanding him for as long a period as the -Act of Parliament would allow. - -When called upon for any thing he might have to say in his defence, -Mr. Sheepshanks applied a white handkerchief to his eyes; and, after -shaking his head solemnly for several moments, he revealed his -lugubrious countenance once more--purposely elongating it until he -fancied he had tortured himself into as impressive a pitch of misery -as one could wish to behold. He then began a tedious and doleful -dissertation upon the “vanity of earthly things”--marvelled that his -opposing creditors should “prefer the filthy lucre to the welfare of -their immortal souls”--declared that when he first went amongst them he -found them “lamentably benighted,” but that he had “at one time brought -them to a state of grace”--complained that they had treated him as if -he had been “a vessel of wrath,” whereas he flattered himself that he -was in “a most savoury state of godliness”--hinted rather significantly -that he looked upon his present predicament as a “glorious martyrdom -in the good cause”--and wound up with an earnest prayer to the -Commissioners that they would not be “moved by the men of Belial -against him,” but that even as “heaven tempered the wind to the shorn -lamb,” they would modify their judgment according to his lamentable -condition. - -To this speech, delivered in the most approved nasal twang of -the dissenting pulpit, and with many doleful moans and frightful -contortions, Commissioner Sneesby listened with exemplary patience: -so, indeed, did his learned brother-judge--but in this latter case it -was with the eyes shut. The moment, however, the harangue was brought -to an end, the eyes alluded to opened slowly and gazed rather vacantly -around: but with judicial keenness, they speedily comprehended the -exact stage of the proceedings; and the possessor of the sleepy optics -forthwith began to consult with his coadjutor in solemn whispers. Their -conversation ran somewhat in the ensuing manner:-- - -“It is getting on for one o’clock, and I begin to feel quite faint,” -said the somniferous Commissioner. - -“A chop and a glass of sherry will do us each good,” observed Mr. -Sneesby. - -“Bulliwell does make such long-winded speeches!” - -“Well--so he does: but I always pretend to listen to them--and thus he -enjoys the reputation of having _the ear of the Court_.” - -“I am going to dine with Serjeant Splutterby this evening--and so I -shall leave at about four o’clock.” - -“Very well,” said Mr. Commissioner Sneesby. “I shall sit till six. But -what are we to do with this canting hypocrite of an Insolvent?” - -“Six months, I suppose: he is a dreadful villain.” - -“Yes--and while you were asleep he made a frightful long speech----” - -“Oh! in that case, then, let us give him a twelvemonth--and then for -the chops and the sherry.” - -“Good: a twelvemonth--and then the chops and the sherry.” - -Mr. Commissioner Sneesby, having thus assented to the suggestions of -his sleepy coadjutor, turned in a solemn manner towards Mr. Joshua -Sheepshanks and addressed that miserable-looking creature in the -following terms:-- - -“Insolvent, the Court has maturely deliberated upon your case. We -have listened with deep attention to the evidence of the opposing -creditors and the address of the learned counsel on their behalf. We -have likewise followed you with equal care throughout your defence; and -we feel ourselves bound to pronounce an adverse judgment. Your conduct -has been most reprehensible--aggravated, too, by the fact that your -offences have been committed under the cloak of religion. My learned -brother agrees with me in the opinion that your proceedings have been -most fraudulent. We might even use harsher terms; but we will forbear. -The judgment of the Court is that you, Joshua Sheepshanks, be remanded -at the suit of your three opposing creditors for the period of twelve -calendar months from the date of your vesting order.” - -“Stand down, Insolvent!” cried the clerk. - -The discomfitted Mr. Sheepshanks raised his eyes and hands upwards, -and gave vent to a hollow groan, which made the audience think for a -moment that it was a ghost from the tomb who was passing through the -Insolvents’ Court. - -“Silence, Insolvent!” vociferated an official, making much more noise -to enforce his command than the pious gentleman did in provoking the -injunction. - -“You must swear to your schedule,” said the usher, as Mr. Sheepshanks -was descending from the box. - -“Damn the schedule!” muttered the reverend Insolvent, in a savage -whisper. - -“What do you say?” demanded the usher. - -“I pray to heaven to have mercy upon my relentless persecutors, even as -I forgive them!” answered Mr. Sheepshanks, with a solemn shake of the -head. - -He then quitted the box, and forthwith accompanied the tipstaff who had -charge of him to the public-house opposite, where he drowned his cares -in such a quantity of hot brandy-and-water, that the tipstaff aforesaid -was compelled to put him into a cab and convey him back to the King’s -Bench in a desperate state of intoxication. - -In the meantime the two Commissioners retired to partake of their chops -and sherry: the learned counsel likewise withdrew to _their_ private -room, where _they_ also refreshed themselves;--the attorneys stole -away for a quarter of an hour:--and the audience took little portable -dinners of saveloys and biscuits from their pocket-handkerchiefs, so -that the compartment of the Court allotted to spectators suddenly -appeared to have been transformed into a slap-bang shop on an inferior -scale. - -The fifteen minutes’ grace having expired, Commissioners, counsel, and -lawyers returned to their places--the audience wiped their mouths--and -the Clerk of the Court called forth the name of “FRANCIS CURTIS!” - - - - -CHAPTER CXIX. - -THE EXAMINATION OF MR. FRANK CURTIS. - - -Captain O’Blunderbuss surveyed his friend with a degree of admiration -amounting almost to envy, as the latter leapt nimbly into the box; -but when the two Commissioners inflicted upon the Insolvent the -simultaneous long stare which seemed to form a portion of the judicial -proceedings, the gallant officer fixed upon those learned functionaries -a look of the most ferocious menace,--muttering at the same time -something about the “punching of heads.” As for Mr. Frank Curtis, he -returned the stare of the Commissioners in so deliberately impudent and -yet good-humoured a manner that it was quite evident the physiognomical -discrimination of the bench was at least for once completely set at -naught. In plain terms, the Commissioners did not know what the deuce -to make of the young gentleman. - -“I appear for the Insolvent, sir,” said one of the learned counsel, Mr. -Cadgerbreef by name. - -“And I attend for an opposing creditor, sir,” observed Mr. Bulliwell. - -The Clerk of the Court handed up the schedule to the Commissioners, who -occupied some minutes in looking over it, the document being somewhat a -lengthy one. - -“I see you have got upwards of a hundred and fifty creditors, -Insolvent,” said Mr. Commissioner Sneesby, fixing his eyes severely -upon the youthful candidate for the process of white-washing. - -“Be Jasus! and my frind’s a jintleman--every inch of him!” cried -Captain O’Blunderbuss: “and no jintleman could think of petitioning the -Court with less than a hunthred and fifty creditors.” - -The whole Court was struck with dismay--the bench being perfectly -aghast--at this interruption; while the captain stood as dauntless -and menacing as if he seriously contemplated the challenging of -Commissioners, learned counsel, lawyers, and all. Even the usher was so -astounded by his conduct that he forgot to bawl out his usual noisy cry -for silence. - -“Who is this person?” enquired Mr. Commissioner Sneesby, turning -towards his brother-judge, as if the latter knew any better than -himself. - -“_Person_, be Jasus! Don’t call me _a person_,” vociferated the gallant -gentleman, stamping his martial foot heavily upon the floor. “Is it me -name ye’d be afther finding out? If so, I’ll hand ye my car-r-d--and -you’ll find that I’m Capthain O’Bluntherbuss, of Bluntherbuss Park, -Connemar-r-ra, Ir-r-reland!” added the Insolvent’s bosom-friend, -rattling the r in such an appalling manner that it seemed as if a -waggon laden with iron bars was passing through the Court. - -“Turn him out!” exclaimed Mr. Commissioner Sneesby. - -“Be Jasus! and it’ll take tin of ye to do that!” ejaculated the -captain, taking so firm and dauntless a stand that he appeared -literally nailed to the ground. “But we’ll make a compromise, if ye -plaze--and that is, I’ll hould my tongue.” - -[Illustration] - -“You had better, sir,” said the Commissioner: then, perceiving that -none of the officials seemed inclined to assail the impregnable front -which the ferocious Irishman presented, he thought it prudent to pass -over the interruption and continue the business before the Court. “Who -attends to oppose?” he accordingly demanded. - -“Me!” ejaculated a little, dapper-looking, flashily-dressed person, -elbowing his way through the crowd behind the barristers’ seats, -and getting his glossy beaver smashed flat as an opera hat in the -desperate struggle: indeed, what with the smell of onions from one man -and tobacco from another,--what with the squeezing, and pushing, and -crushing--the treading on toes, and the danger of having one’s coat -slit up the back or one’s pocket picked,--it is no easy nor pleasant -matter to transform oneself into a human wedge to be applied to such a -stubborn, compact mass as a multitude in a Court of Justice. - -At last, however, the little man succeeded in reaching the -witness-box,--but not without being compelled to smart under the -disagreeable conviction that the studied elegance of his toilette was -entirely marred--his shirt-frill tumbled, his white waistcoat soiled -through contact with a coal-heaver, and all the polish trodden off his -boots. - -Adjusting himself as well as he could in the box, he made a profound -bow to the bench, simpered in a familiar fashion towards his counsel, -glanced complacently at the attorneys, and then turned a look of -indignant contempt upon the Insolvent,--so that the little gentleman’s -transitions from excruciating politeness to extreme hauteur were very -interesting indeed. - -“Your name is Kicksey Fopperton, I believe?” said Mr. Bulliwell, the -opposing creditor’s own counsel, specially retained and fee’d for the -purpose of getting Mr. Frank Curtis remanded during as lengthened a -period as possible. - -“That is my name, sir,” was the answer, delivered with a bland smile -and a half bow. - -“What are you, Mr. Fopperton?” - -“A tailor by trade, sir;”--for persons of Mr. Fopperton’s calling never -describe themselves briefly as “tailors,” but always as “tailors by -trade.” - -“A tailor by trade,” repeated Mr. Bulliwell. “And you carry on -business----” - -“In Regent Street, sir,” replied Mr. Fopperton, glancing towards the -bench to notice what effect such a fashionable address had produced -upon the Commissioners: but one was dozing, and the other seemed to be -looking at nothing--just as horses appear when they are standing idle. - -“In Regent Street,” repeated Mr. Bulliwell. “And I believe the -Insolvent called upon you, and ordered clothes to a considerable -amount?” - -“I have supplied him for the last three years,” answered Mr. Fopperton, -“and never yet saw the colour of his money.” - -“You never yet saw the colour of his money. But he has seen the colour -of yours, though?” - -“I have discounted bills for him to the amount of a thousand pounds.” - -“To the amount of a thousand pounds. Now, on what pretence--or rather, -under what circumstances did the Insolvent introduce himself to you?” -inquired Mr. Bulliwell. - -“He drove up to my door in a dashing gig, sir,” answered Mr. Fopperton, -“leapt down, rushed in, and enquired if his friend the Archbishop of -Canterbury had been waiting there for him? I assured him that his Grace -had not visited the shop, to my knowledge, in all his life. ‘_God -bless me!_’ exclaimed Mr. Curtis; ‘_I must have made a mistake, then! -But don’t you make the leather breeches which his Grace wears when he -goes out hunting?_’ I replied that I never made leather breeches at -all. ‘_Nor galligaskins?_’ said Mr. Curtis. ‘_Nor galligaskins, sir_,’ -I said. ‘_Then blow me tight_’ says he, ‘_I have come to the wrong -shop. My intimate and particular friend the Archbishop of York_----‘. -I suggested ‘_Canterbury_,’--‘_Canterbury I meant!_’ exclaimed Mr. -Curtis: ‘_his Grace promised to introduce me to his own tailor; and -here have I been promising introductions likewise to Lord Pumpleby and -the Marquis of Dublin, and a whole lot of my fashionable friends. There -is a perfect rage all on a sudden to employ his Grace’s tailor!_’--I -was struck by all this fine-sounding talk, and handed Mr. Curtis my -card. ‘_Egad!_’ said he, laughing, ‘_I’ve a precious good mind to have -a lark, and pit you against his Grace’s tailor. My eyes! what fun it -would be!_’” - -“And it ended by the Insolvent actually putting you in competition with -the imaginary tailor which he had conjured up?” enquired Mr. Bulliwell. - -“Just so, sir,” returned Mr. Fopperton “and though I heard sometime -afterwards that Mr. Curtis received a handsome income from his uncle -Sir Christopher Blunt, yet I never got a sixpence.” - -“Be Jasus! Sir Christopher-r is a regular ould screw!” ejaculated -Captain O’Blunderbuss. - -“Eh?--what?” cried the Commissioners, the one awaking from his nap and -the other from his obliviousness. - -“Is it afther distur-r-bing ye I’ve been again?” demanded the gallant -gentleman: “then, be the holy poker-r! I ask your pardon--and I’ll -hould my pace!” - -With these words the captain put his arms akimbo--pursed up his mouth -in a most extraordinary fashion--and stood as still as a post and as -demure as a methodist parson, to the huge delight of the unwashed -audience. - -“It appears,” said Mr. Bulliwell, resuming his examination of the -opposing creditor, “that the Insolvent obtained clothes to the amount -of four hundred pounds, and cash to the amount of a thousand?” - -Mr. Fopperton bowed an assent. - -“And you have every reason to believe that he only talked about the -Archbishop’s tailor and his noble acquaintances, in order to throw dust -into your eyes?” - -“To make a fool of me, sir,” cried Mr. Kicksey Fopperton. - -“To make a fool of you,” repeated Mr. Bulliwell. - -“And an ass of me, sir!” ejaculated the tailor, with increasing warmth. - -“And an ass of you,” echoed the learned counsel. - -“Yes, sir--and to make a stupid old owl of me!” vociferated Mr. -Fopperton. - -“A stupid old owl of you,” still repeated Mr. Bulliwell, in the most -matter-of-fact style possible: then, perceiving that his client had -exhausted alike his self-reproaching epithets and his breath, the -learned counsel sate down. - -Thereupon up rose Mr. Cadgerbreef, who had been retained for the -defence of the Insolvent; and as he pulled his gown over his shoulders -and prepared to cross-examine the opposing creditor, Captain -O’Blunderbuss turned partially round, and forming an arch with his hand -on one side of his mouth, said, in a pretty loud tone however, “Be -Jasus! and if ye don’t make mince mate of him, it’s meself that’ll skin -him alive!” - -The learned counsel nodded his head in a significant manner, as much -as to say, “Just wait a moment--and you shall see how I’ll serve -him;”--and the gallant captain appeared satisfied with the tacit -promise thus conveyed. - -“Now, Mr. Fopperton,” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef, who was considered to be -particularly skilful in badgering and baiting an opposing creditor, -“you’ll be so kind as to remember that you are upon your oath:” and the -learned counsel glanced towards the bench, as much as to intimate that -the Commissioners were keeping a sharp look out on him, the opposing -creditor aforesaid, and would send him to Newgate without remorse at -the least symptom of perjury that might transpire. - -Mr. Fopperton cast his eyes timidly in the same direction; and it -was no doubt some satisfaction to him to observe that the sleepy -Commissioner _was_ fast asleep, and that the other was just going off -into a doze. - -“Well, Mr. Fopperton,” exclaimed Mr. Cadgerbreef, in a very loud and -very overbearing tone, “so you have come to oppose the Insolvent’s -discharge--have you? Now answer me this question: have you ever been -in that box yourself?” pointing at the same time in a resolute and -determined manner towards the place occupied by Mr. Curtis. - -“Am I bound to answer that question?” asked Mr. Fopperton, becoming -considerably crest-fallen all on a sudden, and appealing meekly to his -own counsel. - -“I am afraid you must,” returned Mr. Bulliwell. - -“Well, then,sir--I have had the misfortune to pass through this Court,” -said the fashionable tailor, his countenance growing excessively blank. - -“You _have_ been insolvent,” exclaimed Mr. Cadgerbreef. “Now, sir, -how often have you petitioned the Court and been discharged from your -liabilities through the proceedings of this Court?” - -“Really, sir--I--I----” stammered the West-End tailor, becoming awfully -red in the face. - -“Shall I repeat the question, sir?” demanded the learned counsel, -affecting a politeness that was even more galling than his severity had -been. - -“You had better answer, Mr. Fopperton,” said Mr. Bulliwell. - -“I can’t say--that is--not exactly----” - -“Oh! very well--then we shall see!” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef, taking up a -pen, dipping it deep into the ink, and making believe that he was about -to take down the answers to be given to his questions--so as to catch -the opposing creditor out perjuring himself if possible: “will you -swear, Mr. Fopperton, that you have not been insolvent seven times?” - -“Yes, sir--I _will_ swear to that,” returned the tailor with alacrity. - -“You will swear. Well--will you swear that you have not been insolvent -five times?” - -“Yes, sir--I will swear to that too.” - -“You will swear to that, too. Now mind what you’re about, Mr. -Fopperton: take care what you say,” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef, in a tone of -awful menace. “Will you swear that you have not been insolvent three -times?” - -“No, sir--I--I can’t swear to that,” answered the tailor, looking very -miserable. - -“You can’t swear to that. Now, can you deny it?” “No, sir--I cannot,” -said Mr. Fopperton. - -“You cannot,” repeated Mr. Cadgerbreef, casting a glance at Captain -O’Blunderbuss, which seemed to say, “I have him now!”--then, again -addressing himself to the opposing creditor, he exclaimed in a -domineering, browbeating manner, “Take care what you are about, Mr. -Fopperton;--and now tell me whether you have not been bankrupt, as well -as insolvent, several times.” - -“No--only once bankrupt,” cried Mr. Fopperton, impatiently. - -“Well--once bankrupt--and enough too, when coupled with three -insolvencies!” said the learned gentleman, in a tone which very -significantly implied his belief that the opposing creditor was the -greatest scoundrel in the universe. “And pray how much have you ever -paid in the shape of dividend, sir?” - -“I really can’t say at this moment: I----” - -“Oh! you can’t--can’t you!” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef: “then I’ll see if I -can refresh your memory;”--and, taking out of his pocket a letter from -some friend or relation, he pretended to examine it with very great -attention, as if it contained some damning testimony relative to Mr. -Fopperton’s dealings--although, in reality, it had no more connexion -with him or his affairs than with the man in the moon. - -“I think I recollect now, sir,” said the West-End tailor, getting -frightened: “I--I----” - -“Well, sir--can you answer my question?” demanded Mr. Cadgerbreef, -laying his fore-finger on the letter in a marked and formal manner, -just as if he were pointing to the very paragraph which furnished all -requisite information respecting the tailor. “I will repeat it again -for you: how much have you ever paid, collectively and under all your -numerous insolvencies and frequent bankruptcies, in the shape of -dividend?” - -“Two-pence three farthings in the pound, sir,” answered Mr. Fopperton, -in a low tone. - -“Speak out, sir!” vociferated the learned counsel, although he heard -perfectly well what had been said. “Two-pence three farthings in the -pound,” exclaimed the unfortunate Snip, who already repented most -bitterly that, by coming to oppose Mr. Frank Curtis, he had fallen into -the hands of Mr. Cadgerbreef. - -“Two-pence three farthings in the pound,” repeated this learned -gentleman, tossing up his head as if in unmitigated abhorrence at such -awful villainy. “And pray, sir, what was the aggregate of liabilities -under all your innumerable insolvencies and your equally numberless -bankruptcies?” - -“I never was bankrupt more than once, sir,” mournfully and imploringly -remonstrated the tailor, now worked up to a frightful pitch of -nervousness and misery. - -“Don’t shirk my question, sir!” exclaimed the barrister, sternly. “How -much did all your liabilities--” - -“Thirty thousand pounds, sir,” hastily cried Mr. Fopperton, -anticipating the repetition of the query on the part of the learned -gentleman. - -“Be Jasus! and he’s a complete villain!” said Captain O’Blunderbuss, -in such a loud tone that both the Commissioners woke up: whereupon the -gallant officer affected to be seized with a sudden inclination to gaze -up abstractedly at the sky-light, just for all the world as if he were -quite innocent of any fresh interruption. - -“Now, Mr. Fopperton,” exclaimed Mr. Cadgerbreef, seeing that the -Commissioners were all attention just at this moment, and taking -a skilful advantage of the circumstance, “under your numerous -insolvencies and frequent bankruptcies--don’t interrupt me, sir--you -have paid two-pence three farthings in the pound, on aggregate -liabilities amounting to thirty thousand pounds. The Court will be -pleased to notice these facts. And yet, Mr. Fopperton, we find you -discounting a thousand pounds’ worth of bills for my client, the -Insolvent. The Court will again please to take a note of this fact.” - -Of course the Commissioners could not help making--or at least -affecting to make the memoranda suggested by the learned counsel: so -the sleepy one scrawled a zig-zag line across his note-book, and the -other hit off a rapid sketch of Captain O’Blunderbuss’s face, Mr. -Commissioner Sneesby being very proficient in that style of drawing. -The two functionaries then laid down their pens, and looked as solemn -and serious as if they had actually and positively taken the notes in -the most business-like manner possible. - -“Now, sir,” continued Mr. Cadgerbreef, once more turning to the -opposing creditor, “will you tell the Court how much hard cash you gave -the Insolvent for his acceptance of one thousand pounds?” - -“Really, sir, the occurrence is so long ago--I--I----” - -“Will you swear, man, that you gave him two hundred pounds?” demanded -the learned counsel, impatiently. - -“Yes, sir--I will,” was the instantaneous answer. - -“Will you swear that you gave him four hundred?”--and Mr. Cadgerbreef -dipped his pen into the ink with an air of awful determination. - -“Why--no--I can’t exactly----” stammered the tailor, every instant -becoming more and more nervous. - -“Will you swear that you gave him three hundred and twenty pounds in -hard cash for that bill?” demanded Mr. Cadgerbreef. - -“That was just what I did pay in money,” replied Mr. Fopperton, in a -hesitating manner. - -“That was just what you did pay. Now tell the earned Commissioners what -else you gave the Insolvent for that bill.” - -“There was three hundred and twenty in cash--and four hundred and -twenty in wines, pictures, and other objects of value----” - -“Come--that only gives us seven hundred and forty,” cried the -barrister: “how do you make up the rest?” - -“A hundred pounds _discount_, sir--and----” - -“A hundred pounds discount. Well--what next?” - -“Sixty pounds _commission_, sir--and----” - -“Sixty pounds commission. You have still another hundred to account -for, Mr. Fopperton,” said the learned counsel, sharply. “Come--about -that other hundred? and mind what you tell the Commissioners.” - -“Well, sir--the hundred pounds was for _bonus_,” answered the -fashionable tailor. - -“That will do, sir: you may stand down,” said Mr. Cadgerbreef, looking -significantly at the learned Commissioners, with a view of impressing -it on their minds that he had just succeeded in fully unmasking a most -awful rogue. - -Mr. Bulliwell now rose and made a very furious speech against the -Insolvent; so that a stranger unacquainted with the practice of English -Courts of Justice, would have fancied that the learned counsel had -some bitter and deadly motive of personal hatred against the young -gentleman;--whereas all that apparent venom--that seeming spite--that -assumed virulence--and that fierce eloquence were purchased by Mr. -Kicksey Fopperton for a couple of guineas. The speech was cheap--yes, -very cheap, when we take into consideration the almost excruciating -pains that the learned gentleman took to get Frank Curtis remanded -to prison for six months. So much perspiration--such frantic -gesticulation--and such impassioned declamation were well worth the -money; and if it did Mr. Bulliwell good to earn his two guineas on such -terms, it must have been equally satisfactory to Mr. Kicksey Fopperton -to obtain so good a two guineas’ worth. - -During the delivery of this oration, Captain O’Blunderbuss could -scarcely contain his fury: as insulting epithet after epithet poured -from the lips of Mr. Bulliwell, who was always more eloquent when -conducting an opposition than when arguing a defence, the gallant -Irishman literally foamed at the mouth;--and it was only in the hope -of Mr. Cadgerbreef’s ability to mend the business, that he succeeded -in controlling his passion. At length Mr. Bulliwell sate down; and the -captain muttered in a pretty audible tone, “Blood and thunther! he -shall repint of this as long as he lives, if my frind is sent back to -the Binch!” - -Mr. Cadgerbreef rose to defend his client, Frank Curtis; and as -the best means of making that young gentleman appear white was to -represent the opposing creditor as particularly black, the learned -counsel forthwith began to depict Mr. Kicksey Fopperton’s character -in such sable dyes that the unfortunate tailor soon found himself -held up to execration as a species of moral blackamoor. In fact, the -poor little man was stunned--astounded--paralysed by the vituperative -eloquence of Mr. Cadgerbreef; and as the learned counsel proceeded to -denounce his “numerous insolvencies” and “his frequent bankruptcies” -as proofs of unmitigated depravity,--as he dwelt upon the features -of the bill-transaction, and spoke with loathing of the _discount_, -with disgust of the _commission_, and with perfect horror of the -_bonus_,--Mr. Fopperton began to say to himself, “Well, upon my word, I -begin to fear that I am indeed a most unprincipled scoundrel: but the -fact was never brought home to me so forcibly before!” - -In the meantime Captain O’Blunderbuss was in perfect ecstacies: -he forgot all that Mr. Bulliwell had said, in listening to the -counter-declamation of Mr. Cadgerbreef;--and his delight was expressed -in frequent ejaculatory outbursts, such as “Be Jasus, and there ye have -him!” but which passed comparatively unnoticed amidst the thundering -din of the learned counsel’s torrent of words. As for Mr. Frank Curtis, -he had cared little for the violent assault made upon him by Mr. -Bulliwell; but he was immensely pleased at the slaughterous attack -effected by Mr. Cadgerbreef on the dismayed and horrified tailor. - -The defence being concluded, the two learned Commissioners consulted -with each other in whispers; and when they had exchanged a few remarks -having no more reference to the case before them than to the affairs of -the Chinese Empire, Mr. Commissioner Sneesby proceeded to deliver the -judgment of the Court. - -Looking as awfully solemn as possible, he said, “Insolvent, it is -perfectly clear that you have run a career of extravagance and folly -which must be summarily checked. While enjoying a handsome allowance -from your worthy uncle, you contracted numerous debts in a most -reckless manner; and it is probable that Sir Christopher Blunt withdrew -that allowance in consequence of your spendthrift habits. Insolvent, -the Court is of opinion that you cannot be allowed your freedom again -until you shall have passed a certain time in confinement, both as a -punishment for the past and as a warning for the future. The judgment -of the Court is, therefore, that you be remanded at the suit of your -opposing creditor, Mr. Fopperton, for the space of five calendar months -from the date of your vesting order.” - -“Thin bad luck to ye, ye slapy-headed ould scoundrels!” vociferated -Captain O’Blunderbuss. - -“Holloa, there!” cried the usher, unable to pass over such a flagrant -breach of decorum as this, in spite of the awe with which the terrible -Irishman inspired him; and, springing towards the captain, the official -clutched him by the collar--while, to use the words of the newspaper -reporter, “the most tremendous sensation pervaded the Court.” - -But Gorman O’Blunderbuss was not the man to be thus assailed with -impunity; and, knocking down the usher with one hand and Mr. Kicksey -Fopperton on the top of him with the other, he made a desperate rush -from the tribunal, no opposition being offered to his exit. - -A few minutes afterwards he was joined at the public-house over the -way by his friend Frank Curtis and the tipstaff who had charge of the -latter; and the three worthies, following the example of the pious Mr. -Joshua Sheepshanks, drank spirits-and-water until they were compelled -to return to the King’s Bench in a hackney-coach. - - - - -CHAPTER CXX. - -THE LAPSE OF NINETEEN YEARS. - - -How easy is it to record upon paper the sweeping words--“Nineteen years -had passed away since the occurrences just related:”--how easy is it -with a few moments’ manipulation of the pen to leap over a period -embracing almost the fifth part of a century! - -Nineteen years!--a few short syllables--a drop of ink--a scrap of -paper--and a minute’s trouble,--these are all that the novelist needs -to enable him to pass by the deeds of nineteen years! - -Oh! this very power compels us to look with suspicion upon the utility -of our own avocations,--to reflect how far removed from _the_ natural -is even the _most_ natural of the works of fiction,--and to feel the -nothingness of all the efforts of the imagination when placed in -contrast with the stern and stubborn facts of the real world! - -For though the novelist, exercising a despotic power over the offspring -of his fancy, may dispose of years--aye, even of centuries, with a dash -of his pen,--yet of Time, as the universe actually experiences its -march, not one instant can he stay--not one instant accelerate. - -Great Kings, who have proclaimed themselves demigods and compelled the -millions to abase themselves round their mighty thrones,--at whose -awful nod whole nations have trembled as if at the frown of Olympian -Jove, and whose impatient stamp on the marble pavement of their palaces -has seemed to shake the earth to its very centre,--proud and haughty -monarchs such as these have been powerless in the hands of Time as -infants in the grasp of a Giant. Though heads would fall at their -command, yet not a hair of their own could they prevent from turning -gray: though at their beck whole provinces were de-populated, yet not a -single moment could they add to their own lives! - -TIME is a sovereign more potent than all the imperial rulers that ever -wore the Tyrian purple,--stronger than the bravest warriors that ever -led conquering armies over desolated lands,--less easy to be moved to -mercy than the fiercest tyrants that ever grasped earthly sceptres. - -To those who, being in misery, look forward to the certain happiness -that already gleams upon them with orient flickerings from the -distance, Time is slow--oh! so slow, that his feet seem heavy with -iron weights and his wings with lead:--but to those who, being as yet -happy, behold unmistakeable auguries of approaching affliction, Time -is rapid--oh! so rapid, that his feet appear to glide glancingly along -like those of a sportive boy in pursuit of a butterfly, and his wings -are as light and buoyant as the fleetest of birds. - -The wicked man, stretched upon the bed of death, cries out, “Oh! for -leisure to repent!”--but Time disregardeth his agonising prayer, and -saith, “Die!” The invalid, racked with excruciating pains, and wearied -of an existence which knows no relief from suffering, exclaims, “Oh! -that death would snatch me away!”--but Time accordeth not the shrieking -aspiration, and saith, “Live on!” - -Passionless and without feeling though he be, Time shows caprices -in which the giddiest and most wilful girl would be ashamed to -indulge,--sparing where he ought to slay--slaying where he ought to -spare: insensible to all motives, incompetent to form designs, he -appears to act with a method of contradictions and on a system of -studied irregularities. - - * * * * * - -“Nineteen years had passed away since the occurrences related in the -preceding chapters!”--Such is the sweeping assertion which we have now -to make. - -Nineteen years!--how much joy had been experienced, how much misery -felt, during that interval: what vast changes had taken place over the -whole earth! - -In these islands that period was marked with the names of three -sovereigns:--George the Fourth--William the Fourth--Victoria. - -The debaucheries, vices, and profligacies of George lessened the -value of Monarchy even in the eyes of its stanchest supporters: the -utter incompetency, weakness, and even downright silliness of William -reduced it to a still greater discount;--and the accession of Victoria -proclaimed the grand fact that Monarchy is a farce, since a mere -school-girl can be put up as the throned puppet of the Punch-and-Judy -show of Royalty. - -During nineteen years, then, did the value of Monarchy experience a -rapid and signal decline: and, though it still endures, it is hastening -with whirlwind speed to total annihilation. Men are becoming too wise -to maintain a throne which may either be filled by a voluptuary, a -fool, or a doll: they see something radically and flagrantly bad in an -institution which is fraught with such frightful contingencies;--and -they look forward to a convenient moment and a proper opportunity to -effect, by moral means, and without violence, a complete change. The -throne is worm-eaten--its velvet is in holes and covered with dust: -and no earthly power can repair the wood nor patch up the cloth. It -is old--ricketty--and good-for-nothing; and the magisterial seat of a -President, elected by the nation at large, must displace it. Monarchy -falling, will drag down the ancient Aristocracy along with it; and -the twenty-six millions of these realms all starting fair together on -a principle of universal equality, those who succeed in reaching the -goals of VIRTUE and TALENT will constitute and form a new Aristocracy. - - * * * * * - -Nineteen years had passed away since the occurrences related in the -preceding chapters; and it was now the summer of 1846. - -The July sun gave forth a heat of intense sultriness; and not a breath -of air fanned the stifling streets of the West-End, nor agitated the -green foliage of St. James’s Park. Nevertheless all that fashionable -quarter of London which lies within the immediate vicinity of the old -palace that gives its name to the park just mentioned, presented a -bustling and animated appearance; for Queen Victoria was to hold a -grand reception at noon that day. - -Pall Mall was thronged with well-dressed persons of both sexes;--and -the windows and balconies in that thoroughfare were crowded with -elegantly-attired ladies and gentlemen, who were either the occupants -of the houses at the casements of which they were thus stationed, or -had hired seats at the shops where the cupidity of the proprietors -turned to advantage the curiosity of the public. - -It was evident, then, that the reception to be holden this day was of -no ordinary character, and that some great or illustrious personage was -expected to attend the royal levee. For, amongst the thousands that -thronged the streets, an immense anxiety to secure the best places -prevailed; and in all quarters was the eager question asked--“But is it -certain that the Prince will come this way?” - -We must pause for a few minutes to notice a group occupying the balcony -of the drawing-room windows at the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham. -This group consisted of six persons--three gentlemen, and three ladies. - -The first of the three gentlemen was a fine, handsome, noble-looking -man of about forty-five years of age--with a countenance indicating -feelings of the most lofty honour, great generosity, and a splendid -intellect. This was the Earl of Ellingham. - -Near him stood an old and venerable gentleman, whose years were verging -fast to three-score-and-ten, but whose small, restless, sparkling eyes -beamed with the fires of genius, and whose compressed lips showed -that although he had consented to become a spectator of the gay scene -about to take place, his thoughts frequently wandered to subjects of a -more serious kind and more congenial to his nature. This was Sir John -Lascelles--the most eminent physician of the age, and who had received -the honour of knighthood in recompense for the great services which he -had rendered to the art of medicine. - -The third gentleman was about twenty-five years of age. Tall, handsome, -well-formed, and genteel in appearance, he seemed a fit and suitable -companion for the lovely girl who leant upon his arm, and of whom we -shall speak more fully anon. The fine young man at present alluded to, -was called by the name of Charles Hatfield: but in the former portion -of this work he was known, when a little boy, to the reader as Charley -Watts. - -The first of the three ladies was about thirty-seven years of age; -and her beauty, in the finest, chastest, and most elevated Hebrew -style, was admirably preserved. The lapse of years had only matured -her charms, and not impaired them: time had touched not the pearly -whiteness of her teeth, nor dimmed the brilliant lustre of her large -dark eyes. Her hair was still of the deepest and glossiest jet,--silken -and luxuriant, as when we first described it in the fourth chapter -of our narrative:--for she of whom we are speaking now, was Esther, -Countess of Ellingham. - -Conversing with the noble Jewess--for she clung to the faith of her -forefathers--was a lady whose style of beauty was of that magnificent -and voluptuous kind which sets the beholder at naught in his -calculations and conjectures relative to the age of the object of his -admiration;--for though forty-four years had passed over the head of -Lady Hatfield, she was still endowed with a loveliness that, though -matured, seemed to have known only the lapse of summers and never to -have passed through the snowy storms of as many winters. - -And now we must speak more in detail of that charming girl to whom we -alluded ere now, and who was leaning on the arm of Lady Hatfield’s -son. Ravishingly beautiful was this young creature of seventeen--with -the aquiline countenance of her mother, and the Saxon complexion of -her father. Yes--lovely indeed was Lady Frances Ellingham, the only -issue of the alliance which took place between the Earl and Esther -one year after the murder of Tamar, and consequently eighteen years -previous to the period of which we are now writing. Much of the -description which we gave of Esther in the opening of our tale, would -apply to the charms of her daughter, whose forehead was high, broad, -and intelligent,--whose mouth was small, and revealing in smiles teeth -white as orient pearls,--whose eyes were large and dark,--and whose -figure was tall, sylph-like, and graceful. But Lady Frances Ellingham’s -hair, though dark, was several shades less jetty than that of her -mother; and her complexion was delicately clear, with a slight tinge of -rich carnation appearing beneath the dazzling purity of the skin. - -Such was the interesting group of six persons stationed in the balcony -of the Earl of Ellingham’s mansion. But while they are awaiting the -presence of the illustrious individual who is expected to pass through -Pall Mall to the Queen’s levee at St. James’s palace, we will place on -record a few short facts that will render less obscure to our readers -the interval of nineteen years over which we have thought fit to leap -in our narrative. - -For a long--long time after the murder of Tamar, Tom Rain appeared -inaccessible to consolation: but at last his naturally strong mind and -vigorous intellect began to exercise their energies--the former to -combat against the deep and depressing sense of affliction--and the -latter to teach him the necessity of putting forth all his powers in -the struggle, not only on account of the inutility of repinings, but -likewise for the sake of those who were interested in him. It was, -however, chiefly on the occasion of Lord Ellingham’s marriage with -Esther de Medina, that Rainford perceptibly rallied; for it did his -generous heart good to behold the happiness of his half-brother. As -time wore on, Tom Rain recovered much of his former cheerfulness; and -after the lapse of three years from the date of Tamar’s death, he began -to listen with attention, if not with interest, to the representations -made to him by the Earl, urging him to the performance of a duty which -it was now in his power to fulfil. Arthur reminded him of Georgiana -Hatfield’s generous conduct in obtaining the royal pardon,--he assured -Rainford that her ladyship no longer thought of him with abhorrence and -aversion, but would cheerfully bestow her hand on the father of her -child,--and the nobleman moreover advised the alliance on the ground -that the boy would then dwell with both his parents. The death of Mr. -de Medina, which happened about that time, delayed the negociations -thus commenced; but at the expiration of a year the proposal was -revived, and the necessary arrangements were speedily adjusted. In -fine, it was settled that Rainford should abandon the name by which -he had hitherto been known, and assume that of Hatfield,--that the -boy should be thenceforth called in the same manner, but should be -brought up in the belief that he was Rainford’s nephew,--and that after -the marriage, which was to be solemnized in the most private manner -possible, the wedded pair should proceed to the continent, and there -reside for some years. All these arrangements were duly carried out. -Rainford--whom we shall henceforth call by his wife’s name--became -the husband of Lady Georgiana Hatfield;--and, taking with them their -child, who was represented to be their nephew, they forthwith repaired -to Italy, where they dwelt for nearly fifteen years. Thus, on their -return to London, only a few weeks before the date up to which we have -now brought the incidents of our tale, all the stirring circumstances -once associated with the name of Tom Rain were pretty well forgotten; -and none, save those few who were in the secret, suspected that the -pleasant, gentlemanly, good-natured Mr. Hatfield was identical with the -individual who nineteen years previously had filled all England with -his fame. - -While we have been thus digressing, the sensation amongst the crowds -in Pall Mall has increased;--for the carriages of several eminent or -illustrious personages have passed along in their way to the royal -levee. - -In the balcony at the Earl of Ellingham’s drawing-room window, a -degree of curiosity and excitement prevailed which certainly could not -have been aroused on the part of the intelligent individuals there -assembled, by the mere display of gorgeous equipages. Let us see -whether the conversation passing in that balcony will throw any light -upon the subject. - -“Well,” exclaimed Sir John Lascelles, almost in a petulant tone, “I -wonder how much longer your cynosure of attraction will be before -he makes his appearance? Truly, it was worth while for my friend -Ellingham here, to drag me away from my experiments in order to catch a -glimpse of a foreign Prince----” - -“Nay, doctor,” interrupted the Earl, smiling: “It was precisely because -this illustrious Prince is _not_ a foreigner--but an Englishman by -birth and a true Briton in his noble heart--that I thought you would be -pleased to join those who are desirous to behold a youthful hero whose -name occupies so memorable a page in history.” - -“Well, well,” said the physician, somewhat more mildly: “I will have -patience--and since you assure us that the object of all curiosity is -indeed an Englishman----” - -“Surely you can neither doubt the fact, nor be ignorant of his great -achievements, doctor?” exclaimed the Earl. “But if you wish to receive -positive assurances as to his Royal Highness’s English parentage, Lady -Hatfield will satisfy you.” - -“Yes--truly,” observed Georgiana. “When we were staying in Italy, we -not only became as it were eye-witnesses of the great Revolution which -was conducted to so signally triumphant an issue by the young hero of -whom you are speaking; but we subsequently had the honour of forming -the acquaintance of his Royal Highness and that of his Princess, who is -as amiable as she is beautiful.” - -“And now that the Prince has come to visit his native land once more,” -said Charles Hatfield, his eyes flashing the fires of that enthusiasm -which filled his soul, “the people assemble in crowds to do honour -to their illustrious fellow-countryman. Oh! how delicious must his -feelings be, when he reflects that as an obscure individual he once -moved, unnoticed and unknown, amidst the mazes of this great city,--and -that by his own brilliant merits he has raised himself to that pinnacle -of rank and glory which renders him the admiration of the myriads now -assembled to welcome his presence.” - -“Well spoken, my dear Charles,” exclaimed Lady Hatfield. “Look up and -down the street--it is literally paved and walled with human faces! -In the balconies on either side of this house--and opposite too--I -recognise many ladies and peers of the highest rank. Yes--Charles, you -are right: the feelings of the Prince must indeed be joyous when he -reflects that this vast congregation of all classes has gathered to do -honour to the fellow-countryman of whom they are so justly proud.” - -“History teems with examples of bold, bad, and ambitious men usurping -power and decorating themselves with lofty titles,” continued Charles, -addressing himself partly to Lady Hatfield and partly to the beautiful -Lady Frances Ellingham: “but in the present instance we have a young -Englishman, of generous soul, enlightened opinions, and even rigorous -rectitude of conduct, raising himself from nothing as it were and -acquiring the proudest titular distinctions. For what a glorious -elevation was it from plain _Mr. Richard Markham_ to _His Royal -Highness Field-Marshal the Prince of Montoni, Captain-General of the -Castelcicalan Army, and Heir-Apparent to the Grand-Ducal Throne_!” - -Scarcely had Charles Hatfield enunciated these sounding titles in a -tone which afforded full evidence of the enthusiasm that filled his -soul as he thought of the splendid career of Richard Markham,[1] when -far-off shouts of welcome and of joy suddenly reached the ears of the -group on the balcony:--then those sounds came nearer and nearer, as the -crowd took up the cries from the direction where they commenced;--and -never was Royalty saluted with a more cordial greeting than that which -now welcomed the hero of Castelcicala. - -“Long live the Prince of Montoni! God save Richard Markham!” were the -words sent up by thousands and thousands of voices to the blue arch of -heaven. - -In a short time a handsome carriage, drawn by four magnificent horses, -came in sight of the spectators in the balcony; and nothing could now -exceed the enthusiasm of Charles Hatfield, as he once more beheld the -object of his heroic idolatry--that fine young Prince whom he had so -often admired and envied when in the vast square of the ducal palace of -Montoni his Royal Highness reviewed the garrison of the Castelcicalan -capital. - -The Prince, who was accompanied in his carriage by two aides-de-camp, -wore the uniform of his high military rank: his breast was covered with -Orders; and in his hand he carried his plumed hat, which he had removed -from his brow through respect to the generous British public from whom -he now received so enthusiastic a welcome. - -His Royal Highness was in the prime and glory of his manhood. He was -thirty years of age: his dark hair, which he wore rather long and which -curled naturally, enclosed a forehead that appeared to be the seat of -genius of the highest order;--and his fine black eyes were bright with -the fire of intelligence and the animation of complete happiness. His -magnificent uniform set off his symmetrical and graceful figure to -its fullest advantage; and he acknowledged with affability and modest -condescension the demonstrations of joy and welcome which marked his -progress. - -As his equipage passed opposite the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham, -his eyes were attracted to the balcony; and, recognising Lady Hatfield -and the enthusiastic Charles, he bowed to them in a manner which -testified the pleasure he experienced at again beholding those whose -acquaintance he had formed in the ducal capital of Castelcicala. - -“He is certainly a very fine young man,” said Sir John Lascelles. “I -have seldom seen a countenance so expressive of vast mental resources:” -then, after a short pause, the worthy physician added, “I would give -much for a cast of his head.” - -The Earl was about to make some reply, when his own name was suddenly -shouted forth by a voice in the street: and that name, taken up by -tongue after tongue, was echoed by thousands of individuals who were -delighted to associate the stanch friend of the industrious classes of -England with their enthusiastic welcomings of the royal champion of -constitutional freedom in Italy. - -“Long live the Marshal-Prince of Montoni! three cheers for the Earl -of Ellingham!” were now the cries that made the very welkin ring; and -these shouts were prolonged for some time, until the carriage of his -Royal Highness turned into the court-yard of St. James’s palace, and -the Earl on his side withdrew from the balcony. - -“You sigh, Charles?” said Lady Frances Ellingham, in a low and somewhat -anxious tone, and speaking apart to him whom she believed to be Lady -Hatfield’s _nephew_. - -“I was only thinking, dear Fanny,” answered the young gentleman, “that -much and earnestly as I may strive to elevate myself, it will never be -my good fortune to have such opportunities as the Prince of Montoni -found for distinguishing his name and acquiring on immense reputation.” - -“Are you envious of him, Charles?” enquired the beautiful maiden, in a -somewhat reproachful tone. “I thought that you recked not for titles -and high rank----” - -“No--not when they are hereditary,” hastily replied Charles Hatfield: -“and this assurance I have often given you in secret--because I should -not like to make such an observation before your noble father, whose -title _is_ hereditary. But I admire--yes, and I envy too, the honours -which a great man acquires by his own merits! Do you imagine that the -English people would have assembled in vast crowds to hail and welcome -one of their own royal Dukes? No, indeed! And yet they seem as if they -could not testify their joy in too lively a manner, when the Prince of -Montoni appears amongst them.” - -While this little dialogue was taking place in one part of the spacious -drawing-room at the Earl of Ellingham’s mansion, the nobleman himself -was conversing with his wife and Lady Hatfield in another--the entire -group having withdrawn from the balcony, and Sir John Lascelles having -quitted the apartment. - -“Yes,” said the Earl, in answer to a question put to him by Lady -Hatfield; “I have understood that the Prince proposes to stay some -weeks in London. The Princess Isabella has not accompanied him--her -royal parents, the Grand Duke Alberto and the Grand Duchess, being -loth to part with her. The Prince has taken up his abode--at least, -so states the morning newspaper--at Markham Place, the house where -he was born and where all his youth and a portion of his manhood -were passed. Accordingly, as you desire, Georgiana, I will call upon -his Royal Highness to-morrow; and I will request him to accept of an -entertainment at this mansion.” - -“How did it occur,” enquired the Countess of Ellingham, “that Thomas -was not with us just now to behold the progress of the Prince to St. -James’s?” - -“You know, dear Esther,” answered Lady Hatfield, “that my husband loves -privacy and seclusion, and especially avoids appearing in crowded -places. He fears to be recognised,” she added, sinking her voice so as -to be inaudible to Charles and Lady Frances, who were at the opposite -end of the apartment: “and he is perhaps right--although so many years -have elapsed since those occurrences----” - -“To which we will not refer,” interrupted Lord Ellingham, hastily. “How -very seriously the young people appear to be conversing together,” he -added, glancing towards Charles Hatfield and Lady Frances. - -“Charles has imbibed certain romantic ideas and hopes of distinguishing -himself in the world,” observed Georgiana; “and I think it right to -encourage such noble--such generous aspirations. But your charming -daughter is evidently remonstrating with him upon some point: and yet -the two cousins appear to be much attached to each other,” she added, -with rather an anxious look at the Earl, as if she were uncertain how -he might receive the observation, into which she threw a degree of -significancy. - -“You have mentioned a circumstance which gives me much pleasure--nay, -not only myself, but likewise my dearest Esther,” said the nobleman. -“We have already adopted it as the basis of many happy plans for the -future----” - -“Yes,” observed the Countess of Ellingham, emphatically: “an alliance -between Charles and our beloved daughter, would prove a source of -felicity and satisfaction to us all.” - -“Arthur--and you, too, dear Esther,” murmured Lady Hatfield, in a tone -indicative of deep emotions, “I thank you for these assurances. All -my earthly ambition--my sole hope, would be accomplished on the day -that such an union took place. Alas! poor boy--it is distressing--Oh! -it is distressing to be compelled to veil from him the real secret -of his parentage--to hear him at times question me relative to his -parents--his _supposed_ parents, who are represented to be no more! -Yes--and it is cruel, too, to be forced to deceive him--to hear him -call me his _aunt_--I, who am his _mother_!” - -“Georgiana--dearest Georgiana, do not thus afflict yourself!” murmured -Esther, pressing Lady Hatfield’s hand in a tender manner, and speaking -in a tone of consolation and sweet sympathy. - -But almost at the same instant a piercing scream burst from Georgiana’s -lips; and she fell senseless into the arms of the Countess of -Ellingham--while the Earl, turning mechanically and hastily round, -beheld Charles standing close behind him,--pale--astounded--petrified! -For the young man had advanced unperceived--and his tread unheard on -the thick, soft carpet--towards the group formed by Lady Hatfield, the -nobleman, and the Countess: and his ears had caught these words--“to -hear him call me _aunt_--I, who am his _mother_!” - -For a few instants he stood motionless--amazed and stupefied by what he -had heard:--but, suddenly recovering the power of movement and yielding -to the ineffable sensations which were excited in his breast, he sprang -forward--and catching his still insensible parent in his arms, he -cried, “Oh! my dearest mother--my beloved, my adored mother--open your -eyes--look upon me----” - -“His mother!” exclaimed Lady Frances, overwhelmed with surprise, -and unable, in the innocence of her virgin heart, to form even the -slightest notion that might serve as a clue to what was still so deep a -mystery to her. - -“Yes--my dearest Fanny,” said the Earl, hastily drawing his daughter -aside and speaking to her in a low and rapid tone: “Charles is indeed -the _son_--and not the _nephew_--of Mr. Hatfield and Lady Georgiana. -But reasons of an imperious necessity--reasons which you are too young -to comprehend, and too discreet to enquire into----” - -“My dear father, I seek to know no more than it may please you to tell -me,” interrupted the young lady, with a decision as amiable as it was -dutiful and re-assuring: “and my behaviour shall henceforth be as if I -had not been accidentally made the spectatress of this scene.” - -“You are my own beloved--darling daughter!” exclaimed the Earl -enthusiastically, as he pressed his lips to the pure and chaste -forehead of the charming countenance that was upturned so lovingly -towards his own. - -By this time Lady Hatfield had been recovered through the kind -attentions of Esther; and, awaking to consciousness, she clasped -her son to her bosom, murmuring in a faint tone and broken voice, -“Now you have learnt my secret, Charles--a secret which--But another -time--another time, you shall know all! Oh! Charles--I feel so much -happiness and so much sorrow--strangely blended--at this moment----” - -“Compose yourself, dearest--dearest parent!” exclaimed the young man, -his tears flowing freely. “I now know that you are my mother--and I -care to know nothing more! Never--never shall I question you concerning -the past: the enjoyment of the present, and the hope which gilds the -future--these are enough for me!” - -[Illustration] - -“My poor boy!” murmured Lady Hatfield, straining him to her breast: “I -feel as if an immense weight were taken from my mind--I seem to drink -of a purer source of happiness than I have ever yet known----Oh! why -did I ever hesitate to tell thee that thou wast my son!” - -And again she pressed him closer and closer still to her bosom, -covering his brow and cheeks with kisses; while tears flowed from the -eyes of the Countess and of Lady Frances at the touching spectacle--and -the Earl turned aside to conceal his emotions. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXI. - -MR. HATFIELD. - - -In the meantime Sir John Lascelles had repaired to the library in the -Earl of Ellingham’s mansion; and there he found, as he had anticipated, -his friend Mr. Hatfield--_late_ Tom Rain. - -This individual was now in his fiftieth year; and he was much changed -by time as well as by art. He still possessed the fine teeth which -caused the beholder to forget the somewhat coarse thickness of the -lips;--but the laugh that came from those lips, when he was in a happy -mood, was more subdued and quiet than when the reader first made his -acquaintance many years previously to the present date. Though never -inclined to corpulency, he had nevertheless become thinner: yet his -form was still upright, muscular, and well-knit. In his calm moments, -especially when he was alone, a slight shade of melancholy appeared -upon his countenance;--and he even sighed at times as he thought upon -the past - -These were the changes which the lapse of years had effected in regard -to him; and the appliances of art rendered it still more difficult to -recognise in the Mr. Hatfield of 1846 the rollicking Tom Rain of 1827. -For his hair and whiskers were dyed a very dark hue; and his attire was -a plain suit of black. - -Was he happy? Yes--to a certain extent, in spite of the shade -of melancholy and the occasional sighs. His was a disposition -originally so gay and joyous, that it could not be completely -subdued--only mellowed down. Years of rigorous integrity--boundless -charity--never-failing philanthropy--and innumerable good deeds, had -established in his mind a confidence that the errors of his early -life were fully expiated;--and so complacently could he look upon the -present, that he no longer reproached himself for the past. - -This was the usual tenour of his mind: but, as we have already hinted, -there were now and then moody intervals in which thought became -painful. These were, however, of no frequent occurrence;--and, thus--on -the whole--we may assert that Mr. Hatfield _was_ happy. - -The conduct of Lady Georgiana towards him, from the moment of their -union, had been of an affectionate and touching nature. She studied -to enact the part of the tender wife--the sincere friend--and the -amiable woman: and she succeeded fully. Espousing him at first solely -on account of their child, she soon began to like her husband--next to -admire him--eventually to love him. She found him to be possessed of -numerous good qualities--noble and generous feelings--and sentiments -far more refined than she could possibly have anticipated. The terms on -which he lived with her, therefore, aided in insuring his happiness; -and the fine principles as well as handsome appearance of their son, -were a source of profound delight to them both. - -Mr. de Medina had died possessed of great wealth--one half of which -was bequeathed to Mr. Hatfield. This amount, joined to Lady Hatfield’s -fortune, rendered them very wealthy; and their riches were almost -doubled by the demise of Sir Ralph Walsingham, Georgiana’s uncle, who -left them all his fine estates. Thus their income might be calculated -at thirty thousand a-year; and no inconsiderable portion of this -splendid revenue was devoted to humane and charitable purposes. - -When Sir John Lascelles entered the library, as above stated, Mr. -Hatfield hastened to welcome him with all the affectionate assiduity -of a son receiving a visit from a kind and venerable parent; and the -worthy physician evidently experienced a greater elasticity of feeling -towards Mr. Hatfield than to any other friend whom he possessed on -earth. The one never could forget that he owed his life to the science -of the doctor: the other looked on Hatfield as a person whom he had -actually restored to the world, and as a living proof of the triumph -which had crowned long years of research in respect to a particular -study. - -“My dear friend,” said Sir John Lascelles, when they were both seated, -“I have just witnessed a spectacle that I must candidly admit to have -been very gratifying. The English are a most generous-hearted people, -and are quick also in the appreciation of sterling merit. The Earl’s -name was just now coupled with the shouts of applause that welcomed the -Prince of Montoni.” - -“I am rejoiced to hear these tidings,” observed Mr. Hatfield. “Indeed, -it struck me, as the sounds of the myriad voices reached my ears in the -seclusion of this room, remote though it be from the apartment whence -you have just come,--it struck me, I say, that I heard my brother’s -name mentioned. For nineteen years has Arthur now struggled in the -interests of the middle and industrious classes: session after session -has he passed in review the miseries and the wrongs endured by the sons -and daughters of toil;--and what has he experienced from the several -Administrations which have succeeded each other during that period? -Though Whigs and Tories have held the reins of power in their turns, -the treatment received by my brother has been uniformly the same. The -most strenuous opposition to all his grand proposals has been offered; -and when some trifling point has been conceded, ’twas as if a boon were -conferred instead of an act of justice done. But although Arthur has -thus failed in inducing the Government to adopt large and comprehensive -measures for the relief, benefit, and elevation of the industrious -classes, he has at least succeeded in giving such an impetus to Liberal -sentiments out of doors--beyond the walls of the Senate-house--that -he has taught millions to think, who never thought before, upon -their political condition. Though baffled in the Legislative -Assembly--though thwarted by the old school of aristocracy, and the -supporters of those vile abuses which are summed up in the phrase -‘_the landed interest_’--though opposed with unmitigated hostility by -the worshippers of ‘_the wisdom of our ancestors_,’--nevertheless, -Arthur has returned undaunted to the charge. Never disheartened--never -cast down--always courageous in the People’s Cause, he has fearlessly -exposed the rottenness of our antiquated institutions, and mercilessly -torn away the veil from our worn-out systems. The millions recognise -and appreciate his conscientious--his unwearied strivings in their -behalf; and they adore him as their champion. Unassuming--honest--and -free from all selfishness as he is, it must nevertheless have been a -proud moment for my brother when he heard his name associated ere now -with that of the illustrious Prince who achieved the liberation of -Castelcicala beneath the walls of Montoni.” - -“The gratitude of the industrious classes is the most welcome reward -that a well-intentioned and a true patriot can possibly experience,” -observed Sir John Lascelles. “The Earl certainly seemed pleased with -the high but merited compliment thus paid to him--although not for -one minute did he seek it, when he appeared at the balcony; for I -noticed that he rather endeavoured to conceal himself behind the -window-curtain. But speaking of the Prince--he is a very handsome young -man.” - -“The Castelcicalans absolutely worship him,” said Mr. Hatfield; “and -they look upon him as in every way fitted to succeed the Grand Duke -Alberto, whenever death shall snatch away that great and enlightened -sovereign from the throne.” - -“It was in the Castelcicalan capital that poor Jacob Smith breathed his -last--was it not?” enquired the physician. - -“Yes--in the suburbs of Montoni,” answered Mr. Hatfield. “As you are -well aware, the poor youth never recovered the shock which he sustained -on learning that he owed his being to that dreadful man--Benjamin -Bones; and the horrible way in which that remorseless wretch died, -augmented the weight of the fearful blow caused by that discovery. -Jacob scarcely ever rallied--scarcely ever held up his head afterwards: -the only gleam of happiness which he knew was afforded by the good -tidings that we received relative to the Bunces--and even that was -insufficient to sustain his drooping spirit. He languished away--for -six years he pined in sorrow, accessible to no consolation that -travelling, change of scenery, or our attentions could impart. It was -several years before the Great Revolution, which, conducted by Richard -Markham, gave freedom to Castelcicala and raised up that hero to a -princely rank,--it was some years before this glorious era, that Jacob -Smith--for he always retained that name--breathed his last. We buried -him in a picturesque cemetery on the banks of the river Ferretti; and a -cross--according to the custom of that Catholic country--was placed to -mark his last home.” - -“Poor fellow!” exclaimed the doctor. “He was always sickly--and -the discovery of his hideous parentage was too much for so weak a -constitution. And now let us turn to another subject:--have you -received the letters which you expected concerning the various -individuals----” - -“I know to whom you allude,” interrupted Mr. Hatfield; “and I have now -before me,” he added, glancing at several letters, “the correspondence -relating to those persons. Timothy Splint still remains the occupant -of a fine farm in the backwoods of the United States; and the last -nineteen years of his existence have proved the sincere penitence -which he feels for the crimes of his earlier days. He possesses a -competency--if not positive wealth. By his marriage with the daughter -of a neighbouring settler, he has a numerous family; and he brings up -his children in the ways of morality and virtue. Indeed, I am well -aware _that he has lived to bless the period when he went through the -ordeal of the subterranean dungeon_.” - -“You prophesied that he would!” exclaimed Sir John Lascelles. -“Yes--those were the very words which you used when speaking of him to -me nineteen years ago. I recollect them perfectly;--for age has not -impaired my memory, thank heaven!” - -“I now come to Joshua Pedler,” resumed Mr. Hatfield, “You will -remember, my dear doctor, that this man and his wife Matilda were -appointed to the charge of the Eddystone Light-house. There they -remained for six or seven years--as indeed I wrote to you to this -effect a long time ago----” - -“Yes--and then you sent them out as emigrants to Canada,” interrupted -Sir John Lascelles; “and they continued to do well. What say your last -accounts concerning them?” - -“They are still happy--contented--and prosperous,” answered Mr. -Hatfield. “Their shop at Quebec thrives admirably; and they have -managed to put by several hundred pounds. Pedler says that the sweetest -bread he has ever eaten in his life, has been that which he has earned -by his honest toils. I have reason to feel convinced, moreover, that he -is kind and good towards his wife, and that his only regret is their -not having any children.” - -“And the Bunces are still living in St. Peter’s-Port, after having -acquired a competency in the Island of Sark?” enquired the physician. - -“Yes--they are still in the capital of Guernsey,” was the response. -“Bunce tells me in his letter that his wife’s health does not improve; -in fact, she doubtless received a cruel shock when she heard of the -death of Jacob Smith--for it had been her hope that he might some day -take up his abode with her and her husband--a hope which she however -nourished in secret.” - -“Bunce himself has never learnt the real parentage of Jacob, I -believe?” said the physician. “Indeed, I remember you told me the other -day that his wife, always bearing in mind the injunctions you conveyed -to her through Mrs. Harding, had retained as a profound secret her -former illicit connexion with Benjamin Bones.” - -“Yes--it was useless to make a revelation which would only have -troubled their domestic peace,” said Mr. Hatfield. “Harding divined the -hope that the woman had formed relative to Jacob--and in his letters he -communicated his ideas to me. But even if death had spared Jacob, he -would not have quitted me--no, not though it were to dwell with his own -mother!” - -“And Jeffreys?” asked the physician: “what of him?” - -“He is well pleased that he removed last summer from Hackney to -Liverpool. The money he had saved during a period of eighteen years -at his shop in the London suburb, enabled him to take a very handsome -establishment in the great commercial town in the north; and he is -carrying on a large and flourishing business.” - -“Thus, in every instance, save that of Old Death, have you succeeded in -reclaiming those wicked people whose reform you took in hand,” said Sir -John Lascelles. “Tidmarsh died tranquilly in his bed in the Island of -Alderney--and the others still exist, worthy members of society.” - -With these words the physician rose and took his leave; and almost -immediately after he had quitted the library, the Earl of Ellingham -entered, closing the door behind him with the caution of one who has -some important or mysterious communication to make. - -“Arthur, you have evil tidings for me?” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, -advancing towards his noble half-brother. - -“Nay--they can scarcely be called evil, Thomas,” was the reply: “and -yet--’twould perhaps have been better----” - -“Speak! Keep me not in suspense,” interrupted the other. - -“Charles--your son----” - -“Ah! he has discovered his parentage!” cried Hatfield. “Yes--I am sure -that this is the circumstance which you came to communicate;”--and he -walked twice up and down the room in an agitated manner: then, suddenly -turning towards his brother, he said, “How did this occur, Arthur?” - -The Earl related the incident just as it had taken place, not -forgetting the short but impressive dialogue which he had with his own -daughter, Lady Frances, respecting the sudden and accidental revelation -of the secret of Charles Hatfield’s birth. - -“After all, I am not sorry that this has so happened,” observed the -nobleman’s half-brother. “Sooner or later the truth must have been -confided to my son--my dear son;--and since the secret may still be -preserved in respect to the world and to those whom we would not wish -to become acquainted with it----” - -“Sir John Lascelles himself does not even suspect it,” interrupted -Arthur. “It is known but to our immediate family--and Georgiana’s -honour is as safe as ever it was. The breath of scandal cannot reach -it.” - -“Thanks, my dear brother--a thousand thanks for this assurance!” -exclaimed Mr. Hatfield. “And now let my son come hither to embrace me -as his father:--but, Arthur,” he added, sinking his voice to a low and -solemn tune, “let him not enquire into the motives which induced his -parents to envelop his birth in mystery. Enjoin him to forbear from any -attempt to gratify his curiosity in that respect!” - -“I hope--indeed, I believe that you have no painful ordeal of such a -nature to apprehend,” replied the Earl of Ellingham; and having thus -spoken, he quitted the library. - -Two minutes elapsed, during which Mr. Hatfield once more paced the -apartment in an agitated manner: for, knowing the fine spirit of -his son, he trembled lest it should be checked or even broken by the -mortifying suspicion that he was illegitimate! - -“A falsehood is abhorrent to me,” he thought within himself: “and -yet--if he should question me respecting his birth--I dare not avow the -truth! I must not confess to my own son that his being resulted from -an atrocious outrage perpetrated by myself:--nor must I permit him to -suspect the honour of his mother! Silence on my part, I now perceive, -would engender such suspicion in respect to her; and she must not lose -one particle of the dignity of virtue in the eyes of her own offspring! -Alas! painful position!--and, Oh! with what foolish and short-sighted -haste did I ere now affirm that I was not sorry for the discovery which -he had made!” - -At this moment the door opened, and Charles sprang forward into his -father’s arms, which were extended to receive him. - -For some minutes they remained silent--each too profoundly the prey to -ineffable emotions to give utterance to a syllable. - -“I am proud--I am rejoiced to be able to call you by the sacred name -of _Father_!” at length exclaimed Charles, speaking with the abrupt -loosening of the tongue which was caused by a sudden impulse. “But are -you--are you well pleased that accident should have thus revealed to -me----” - -“Charles--my dear boy,” interrupted Mr. Hatfield, summoning all his -firmness to his aid, “you must be aware that weighty reasons--the -weightiest reasons--could alone have induced your mother and myself -to practise a deception towards you and the world in respect to the -degree of relationship in which you really stood with regard to us. Is -it sufficient for you to know at last that you _are_ our son?--or do -you demand of me an explanation wherefore you must still pass as our -_nephew_?” - -“Oh! then Lord Ellingham spoke truly as he brought me hither just -now!” cried Charles, in a tone of vexation: then, in another moment -brightening up, he added feelingly, “But by what right do I dare to -question the conduct of parents who have ever treated me so kindly? -No--my dear father--I seek not any explanation at your hands--I am -content to obey your wishes in all things.” - -“Generous youth!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield. “Though you must pass as my -nephew, Charles, yet in all respects shall you continue to be treated -as my son! You are doubtless aware that I am rich--very rich;--and all -that your mother and myself possess is bequeathed to you.” - -“One word, father--only one word!” cried Charles. “I have an ardent -longing to ask a single question--and yet I dare not--no--I cannot -tutor my lips to frame the words----” - -“Speak!” said, Mr. Hatfield, emphatically: “I can almost divine the -question you hesitate to put to me.” - -“Ah! my dear father--I would rather know the truth at once than remain -in suspense, a prey to a thousand wild conjectures--the truth regarding -one point--and only one!” repeated the young man, in an earnest -and imploring tone. “And imagine not,” he continued, speaking with -increased warmth and rapidity, “that I should ever look less lovingly -or less respectfully upon my dear mother--if----” - -“Set that suspicion at rest, my son,” interrupted Mr. Hatfield, in a -solemn manner. “Your mother has ever been an angel of innocence and -purity! As God is my judge she has never been guilty of weakness or -frailty--no--never--never!” he added emphatically. - -“And therefore no stigma is upon my birth?” asked Charles, his heart -palpitating--or rather fluttering violently, as he awaited the response. - -“None!” replied his father, with an effort which was, however, -unnoticed by the young man in the excitement of his own feelings. - -“God be thanked!” exclaimed he, wringing Mr. Hatfield’s hand in -gratitude for this assurance. “And now I seek to learn no more.” - - - - -CHAPTER CXXII. - -TWO OF THE READER’S OLD FRIENDS. - - -Bucklersbury--a tortuous street, leading from Cheapside to -Walbrook--abounds in dining-rooms, where for fifteen pence the “City -man” can procure a meal somewhat on the “cheap and nasty” principle. -There’s ten-pence for a plate of meat, cut off a joint--two-pence, a -pint of porter--a penny, potatoes--a penny, bread--and a penny the -waiter. - -The moment a person enters one of these establishments and seats -himself at a table, a waiter with a dirty apron to his waist, and -a ditto napkin over his arm, rushes up, and gabbles through the -bill-of-fare, just in the same rapid and unintelligible manner as an -oath is administered to a juryman or a witness in a court of justice. - -It was while the preceding scenes were taking place at the West End of -London, that two gentlemen lounged into a dining-room in Bucklersbury, -and took their places, facing each other, at one of the numerous -little tables that were spread with dirty cloths and strewn in a -random fashion with knives, forks, salt-sellars, pepper-boxes, and -vinegar-cruets,--all in preparation for the afternoon’s process of -“feeding.” - -Scarcely had the two gentlemen thus brought themselves to an anchor, -when the waiter darted up to them as if the necessity of speed were -a matter of life or death;--and, heedless whether the visitors were -attending to him or not, the domestic functionary hurried over the list -of delicacies at that moment in readiness in the kitchen. - -“Roast beef--biled beef--roast leg of pork--biled leg of pork and pease -pudding--fillet of veal and ’am--beef steak pie--biled leg of mutton -and caper sarse--greens--colliflowers--and taturs. Give your orders, -gentle-_men_.” - -But were the rapidity of the waiter’s utterance properly represented -in print, his repetition of the bill-of-fare would more properly stand -thus:-- - -“Roast beef biled beef roast leg of pork biled leg of pork and pease -pudding fillet of veal and ’am beefsteak pie biled leg of mutton -and caper sarse greens colliflowers and taturs give your orders -gentle-_men_!” - -“Well--what shall we have, old fellow?” said the younger gentleman of -the two to his companion. - -“Be Jasus! ’an it’s afther boiled leg of por-r-rk and paze pudding that -I am, my frind!” was the emphatic reply, delivered with a ferocious -look at the waiter as much as to let that individual know that he had -better not have any of his nonsense--although nothing was farther from -the poor devil’s thoughts at the moment. - -“Very good, sir!” cried the waiter. “Biled pork and pease pudding!” -he shouted out for the behoof of the young lady within the bar at the -remote end of the room. - -“And the same for me,” said the Irishman’s companion. - -“Same for gentle-_man_!” bawled the waiter, again addressing himself to -the young lady just alluded to. “Ale or stout, gentle-_men_?” - -“Porther--a pint!” exclaimed the ferocious Hibernian. - -“Pale ale for me,” intimated his friend. - -“Pint of porter and pint palale for gentle-_men_!” vociferated the -waiter. “Weggitubles--bread?” he next demanded. - -“No bread--greens!” ejaculated the Irishman. - -“Bread and potatoes for me,” said his companion. - -“One bread--one greens--one taturs--for gentle-_men_!” cried the -waiter, thus conveying his last instructions to the young lady who -officiated at the bar; and the said young lady sent each fresh order -down a pipe communicating with the kitchen--her own voice being as -affected and her manner as lackadaisical as the waiter was natural, -rapid, and bustling. - -But before the various luxuries thus commanded were hoisted from the -kitchen to the bar by means of the moveable dumb-waiter that worked -up and down between the two places just mentioned,--we must pause -to inform our readers--if indeed they have not already suspected -the fact--that the two visitors to the dining-establishment in -Bucklersbury, were our old friends Captain O’Blunderbuss and Mr. -Francis Curtis! - -The gallant Irishman had now numbered sixty-four years; and although -the lapse of time had rendered his head completely bald, and turned his -whiskers and moustachios to a bright silver, the ferocity of his aspect -remained unaltered, and his fiery disposition was unsubdued. He was -still the terrible Captain O’Blunderbuss--ready to exchange shots with -any one and on all occasions--and more devoted to poteen than ever. His -form was as erect as when in the prime of life; and his military coat, -all frogged and braided, was buttoned over an ample chest that no stoop -had contracted. The captain had grown somewhat stouter than when we -took leave of him nineteen years previously to our present date; but -his physical strength seemed to have remained unimpaired. - -Frank Curtis was now forty-three. He also had “filled out,” as the -phrase is; but his countenance, in fattening, had lost nothing of its -ignoble expression of self-sufficiency and impudent conceit; and his -manner was as flippant as ever. Neither had he laid aside any portion -of his mendacious habits, but had rather added thereto by varying the -style of his boastings and the nature of his lies. He continued to -dress in a flashy way--delighting in a hat of strange appearance, and -in a waistcoat concentrating in a yard of stuff all the colours which -have existence and name upon earth. - -We must however admit--for the truth cannot be blinked in this -respect--that there was a certain air of seediness about both the -captain and Mr. Frank Curtis, which neither the bullying insolence -of the former nor the impertinent self-sufficiency of the latter -could altogether throw into the shade. It was evident that they had -lost the confidence of their tailors and hatters--and even of their -washerwomen;--for their garments might have been less thread-bare, and -their wristbands a trifle cleaner. We say “wristbands,” because those -were the only portions of their shirts which met the eye--the captain’s -frogged coat and Mr. Curtis’s faded double-breasted waistcoat being -each buttoned up to its owner’s throat. - -“Waiter-r!” vociferated the gallant officer, when about a minute and a -half had elapsed from the time that the orders had been given for the -repast. - -“Yes, sir--coming, sir,” cried the functionary thus addressed, as he -hurried away in quite another direction. - -“Be Jasus!” ejaculated the captain, thumping his fist so vigorously -down upon the table that the pepper box danced the polka with the -mustard-pot, and the knives and forks performed a _pas de quatre_. “Is -that boiled por-r-rk and paze pudding afther coming to-day at all, at -all?” - -“Just coming, sir!” said the waiter, under no excitement whatever, -though in an immense bustle--for waiters always remain cool and -imperturbable when most in a hurry. - -“If it don’t come in sivin seconds, ye villain,” thundered the captain, -“I’ll skin ye alive!” - -“Very good, sir,” said the waiter, as he hastened to attend upon some -new-comers. - -“The beauty of the French eating-houses is that the moment you order -things they appear on the table by magic,” observed Frank Curtis, in -a tone loud enough to let every one present know that he had been in -France. “When I was in Paris--on that secret mission from the English -Government, you know, captain-----” - -“Be Jasus! and I remimber quite well,” exclaimed the gallant officer. -“’Twas at the same time that I wint to offer my swor-r-d and services -to the Imperor of the Tur-r-rks--the Sulthan, I mane.” - -“Just so,” said Frank. “Well--as I was going to tell you----” - -“Two biled pork--two pease pudding--for gentle-_men_,” cried the waiter -at this juncture, as he set the plates upon the table. “One--bread--one -greens--one taturs--for gentle-_men_.” - -The captain and Mr. Curtis fell to work upon the delicacies thus placed -before them; and after an interval of silence, during which the boiled -pork and _et ceteras_ disappeared with astonishing rapidity, the latter -leaning across the table, said in a low whisper, “It was a deuced lucky -thing that I met my friend Styles just now; for if he hadn’t lent me -this sovereign, we might have gone without dinner as well as without -breakfast.” - -“Be Jasus! and that’s thrue enough, Frank!” returned the gallant -officer, likewise in _sotto voce_. “Where did ye appint to mate Misther -Styles again this afternoon?” - -“At a nice quiet little public that I know of--where there’s a good -parlour and capital spirits,” answered Mr. Curtis. - -“Ah! the thrue potheen--the rale cratur!” said the captain. “Well -that’s a blissing, at all evints! And, be Jasus! I hope your frind -Misther Styles will be after putting us up to do a something, as he -suggisted--for, be the power-r-rs! Frank, it’s hard work looking about -for the sinews of war-r-r!” - -“Styles is a splendid fellow, captain,” replied Mr. Curtis, smacking -his lips after his last glass of pale ale--or “palale,” as the waiter -denominated it. “Why, God bless you! It was him who got up the London -and Paris Balloon Conveyance Company, with Parachute Branches to Dover -and Calais.” - -“And how came it to fail?” demanded the gallant officer. - -“Simply because it was never meant to succeed,” answered Frank, in -a matter-of-fact way. “The object was to make money by showing the -balloons and parachutes that were to be used in the business; and the -press took up the affair quite seriously. As long as curiosity was kept -alive, Styles cleared upwards of five guineas a-day by the admissions -at a shilling a head. Ah! he’s a clever fellow--a deuced clever fellow, -I can tell you. But it’s pretty near time we went to meet him: for, -though he hasn’t any thing particular to do at present, he always -pretends to be in a hurry, and never waits one minute over the hour for -an appointment:--that’s the way he has got himself the character of a -man of punctuality and business-habits.” - -“Waiter-r!” vociferated Captain O’Blunderbuss. - -“Coming, sir!” cried the functionary thus adjured: then, rushing up to -the table, he said interrogatively, “Cheese, gentle-_men_?” - -“No. What’s to pay?” demanded Curtis. - -The waiter enumerated the items in a rapid manner and mentioned the -amount, which was forthwith discharged by Frank, who ostentatiously -threw down a sovereign as if he had plenty more of the same kind -of coin in his pocket. On receiving his change, he gave the waiter -sixpence--a specimen of liberality which induced that discriminating -personage to disregard all the other demands made at the moment upon -his services, until he had duly escorted the two gentlemen to the door. - -Upon quitting the dining-rooms, Captain O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Frank -Curtis proceeded arm-in-arm into Cheapside; and, on catching a glimpse -of the clock of Bow Church, the latter gentleman said, “We are in lots -of time. It’s only half-past two--and we’re to meet Styles at three at -a public in Fleet Street. So we needn’t gallop along as if a troop of -sheriffs’ officers were at our heels.” - -“Be Jasus! d’ye remember what fine fun we had with the snaking -scoundrels up in Baker Street?” cried the gallant officer. “Why--it -must be upwards of twenty years ago--or nineteen at the laste!” - -“Yes--and do you remember what larks we had in the Bench too, during -the time that the sleepy old Commissioners remanded me for?” said -Curtis. - -“Be the holy poker-r! and I’ve forgotten nothing of all that same!” -ejaculated the captain. “But it was a sad blow to ye, my frind, when -Sir Christopher-r died without laving ye a single sixpence!” - -“I can’t bear to think of it, captain--although a dozen years or more -have passed since then. But who do you think I saw the other day, -riding in her carriage just as if she had been a lady all her life?” - -“Be Jasus! and ye mane Sir Christopher’s wife that was!” exclaimed the -gallant officer. “Had she got the fine stout livery-servant standing up -behind as usual?” - -“Yes--and young Blunt was inside,” added Curtis. “He’s as like the -stout footman as ever a lad was to a middle-aged man in this world--the -same pudding face--sandy hair--stupid-looking eyes----” - -“Now be the power-rs! I think you’re too hard upon the footman, Frank!” -interrupted the captain. “He’s not such an ugly fellow as you would -be afther making him out. I don’t say, for insthance, that he’s so -handsome as you, my dear frind--or yet so well made as me, Frank----” - -“Very far from it, captain,” cried Mr. Curtis. “I don’t think that -we’re the worst looking chaps in Cheapside at this moment. That’s -exactly what Styles said to us this morning. ‘_I want a couple of -genteel fellows like you_,’ says he, ‘_to join me in something that I -have in hand._’” - -“We’re the very boys to co-operate with him, Frank!” exclaimed the -captain: “and what’s more, you and me can play into ache-other’s hands. -’Tisn’t for nothing that we’ve been frinds for the last twinty years.” - -“In which time we’ve seen many ups and downs, captain,” observed -Frank,--“had many a good dinner, and gone many a time without -one--spent many a guinea, and seen many a day when we didn’t know where -the devil to get a shilling----” - -“Be the power-rs! and had many a rar-r lar-r-rk into the bargin!” -said Captain O’Blunderbuss. “D’ye renumber our gitting into the -station-house the night afther your dear wife left ye to jine the old -gintleman that fell in love with her, and----” - -“And who was kind enough to take her off my hands, children and -all!” exclaimed Frank, laughing heartily. “Ah! that was a glorious -business--that was--I mean, old Shipley relieving me of my dear spouse -and the five responsibilities.” - -“And didn’t I conduct the bargin for ye?” demanded the captain. “Didn’t -I make him pony down a thousand pounds to prevint an action of _crim. -con._? Be the potheen of ould Ireland--I did that same business as nate -and clane as iver such a thing was setthled in this wor-r-rld!” - -“True enough, captain,” said Frank. “But it’s just on the stroke of -three, I declare!” he exclaimed, glancing up at Saint Bride’s, which -they were now passing. “How we must have dawdled along! I wish you -wouldn’t loiter to stare at the gals so, captain,” he added, laughing. - -“Be Jasus! and it’s yourself, Frank, that ogles all the lasses that -we mate,” cried the captain, throwing back an insinuation that was -intended as a friendly compliment. “But which is the place, me boy?” - -“Here,” said Curtis, turning into a public-house in Fleet Street just -as the clock struck three. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXIII. - -A MAN OF BUSINESS. - - -Mr. Bubbleton Styles was a gentleman of about fifty years of age. -Short, thin, dapper, and active,--with a high, bald forehead, and small -restless, twinging eyes,--he seemed a perfect man of business--an -impression that was enhanced by a certain sly knowingness which he -had assumed years before, and which was now habitual to him. He was -uneducated and ignorant: but he had studied the manner in which -well-instructed persons spoke--he compared their language with his -own--and he had actually weeded his style of speech of the solecisms -and grammatical errors that originally characterised it. He had not, -however, been able to improve himself in spelling, with equal facility; -and therefore he took care never to write a letter. He always had some -plausible excuse for throwing this duty in business matters upon some -other person more competent than himself. - -Astute and cunning, he forebore from touching on topics which he did -not understand: but if the conversation did turn, in spite of his -endeavours to the contrary, on subjects whereof he was ignorant, he -so artfully managed his observations that even those who knew him -well were far from suspecting that he was otherwise than profoundly -acquainted with the matter under discussion. Every body thought him -a very shrewd fellow;--and he had a habit of looking so knowing and -critical when any one was speaking, that his opinion, when subsequently -delivered, was received with respect and deemed an authority. - -The reader may therefore perceive that Mr. Bubbleton Styles was a -thorough man of the world. He took care never to commit himself. -In small money transactions he was always regular and correct: he -therefore escaped the imputation of meanness, and actually acquired -at a cheap rate the denomination of “an honourable character.” The -consequence was, that when he failed--which was very often indeed--in -large transactions, he was considered merely as “a spirited but -unsuccessful speculator,”--never as a dishonest person. - -He had an office in the City: but were any of his friends to ask, “What -_is_ Styles?” the answer would be a vague generality--such as, “Oh! he -is a City man, you know--engaged in business and all that!”--a reply -leaving the enquirer just as wise as he was before. And yet, at his -office, there were all the symptoms and evidence of “business,”--a -letter-box at the door--a clerk engaged in writing at the desk--a pile -of letters here, and a heap of account-books there--samples of many -kinds of goods on the mantel and shelves--mysterious-looking bales and -hampers on the floor--files covered with dingy papers, looking like -invoices and bills of lading--and the words _Bills for Acceptance_ -labelled over a slit in the board-work that enclosed the desk. Thus the -place had a very business-like aspect: and yet no one could define what -was the precise nature of the business carried on there. - -But we have travelled to Mr. Bubbleton Styles’s office in Crosby -Hall Chambers; whereas Mr. Bubbleton Styles himself is just now in a -tavern-parlour in Fleet Street. - -The clock had just _begun_ to strike three as Captain O’Blunderbuss and -Mr. Frank Curtis entered the public-house: and by the time they reached -the aforesaid parlour it was six seconds _past_ three. - -There sate Mr. Bubbleton Styles--with his silver watch in his hand, -and gazing at the Dutch clock over the mantel-piece, as if he were -anxiously comparing the two dials, and found himself much put out -because there happened to be a slight difference between them. - -“If I thought it was my watch that was wrong,” he said aloud, -apparently in a musing manner, but really because he caught a glimpse -of the entrance of Curtis and Blunderbuss at the moment, and he never -lost an opportunity of impressing even his best friends with an idea of -his punctuality,--“if I thought it was my watch that was wrong, I would -trample it to pieces beneath my heel.” - -“No--don’t do that, old fellow!” exclaimed Frank, advancing towards -him. “Much better give it to me!” - -“I would not do any thing so prejudicial to a friend as present him -with a watch that went irregularly,” returned Mr. Styles, in a solemn -tone. “But the fault is _not_ with my watch, I am convinced: it lies -with that rascally old clock. However, you are only six seconds after -your time: I should have allowed you the full minute--and then I should -have waited no longer. Come, sit down, Curtis--Captain O’Blunderbuss, -sit down; I have just one hour to devote to you. As the clock strikes -four, I must be off. What will you take?” - -“Potheen for me, if ye plaze,” said the gallant officer. - -“Brandy for me,” observed Frank. - -“And wine-and-water for me,” added Mr. Bubbleton Styles. “I never take -spirits until after supper.” - -The various beverages required, were immediately ordered and supplied; -and the three gentlemen proceeded to business, the parlour at the -tavern--or rather public-house--being occupied only by themselves at -the moment. - -“Well, old fellow,” said Mr. Frank Curtis, addressing himself to Mr. -Styles, “what good thing can you put us up to?” - -“A speculation that will enrich us all three,” replied the gentleman -thus appealed to. “I do not mind telling you that I have been rather -unfortunate lately in one or two enterprises--and I want something -to set me square again. I have a few bills coming due in a couple or -three months, and would not have them dishonoured on any account. Thank -God! however, I have no paltry debts--no mean milk-scores--no peddling -affairs. I always avoid them. Still I must make a bold stroke for the -sake of my larger transactions;--and I presume that neither of you are -averse to earning a little money easily and speedily.” - -“Arrah! and be Jasus! that’s the most wilcome thing ye could be -afther saying to me, my frind!” exclaimed the captain, surveying the -speculator with deep admiration. - -“Now,” continued Mr. Styles, “I have been thinking that we three can -work the oracle well together--and I propose----” - -“What?” demanded Mr. Curtis, anxiously. - -“Hould your tongue--and have patience, Frank!” ejaculated the gallant -officer. “It shall be your turn to spake prisintly. Well, sir--and what -is it, thin, that ye’re afther proposing!” - -“A Railway!” returned Mr. Bubbleton Styles. - -“Divil a betther idea could ye have formed!” cried the captain, -enthusiastically. - -“Glorious!” exclaimed Curtis, in an equally impassioned tone of -approval. - -“Don’t be excited--take things calmly--in a business-like way,” said -Mr. Bubbleton Styles. “It is now twenty minutes past three: we have -forty minutes more to converse upon the subject. Much may be done in -that time. Here,” continued the speculator, drawing a skeleton-map of -England from his pocket, and spreading it on the table; “you see this -line drawn almost longitudinally from one end of Great Britain to the -other? Well--that is my projected Railway. You perceive, we start from -Beachy Head in Sussex--right on, as straight as we can go, to Cape -Wrath on the northern coast of Scotland. Of course we avoid as much as -possible placing any portion of our line in competition with railways -already existing; but we shall have Branches to all the principal -cities and manufacturing towns, and Single Lines wherever they may be -asked for.” - -“Capital, be Jasus!” exclaimed the Hibernian officer, unable to -restrain the exuberance of his delight at this magnificent scheme. “And -be what title d’ye mane to call this purty little bantling of yours, -Misther Styles?” - -“The Grand British Longitudinal Railway,” answered the speculator, in a -measured and emphatic manner. - -The captain was so elated by the grandeur and vast comprehensiveness of -this denomination, that he rang the bell with furious excitement, and -ordered the waiter to replenish the glasses. - -“Now,” continued Mr. Bubbleton Styles, “having expounded my views, it -is necessary to take into consideration the mode of procedure. Of -course I am the promoter of the scheme; and to-morrow I shall register -it. This will only cost five pounds--and then the thing is secured to -us. ‘_Provisionally Registered, pursuant to 7 and 8 Victoria, cap. -110_;’--and so forth. Capital £8,000,000, in 400,000 shares of £20 -each. Deposit, £2 2s. per share. You, Frank, must be the Secretary; and -you, captain, Consulting Engineer.” - -“Is it an Ingineer ye’d be afther making of me in my ould age?” cried -the gallant officer: “for, be the power-rs! I’ve forgot more than I -ever knew of that same!” - -“Oh! the place will be quite a sinecure--good pay and nothing to do,” -said Mr. Styles. “We shall have a regular Engineer, as a matter of -course; but it will look business-like to speak in the prospectus -of having ‘_secured the valuable services of that eminent Military -Engineer, Captain O’Blunderbuss, of Blunderbuss Park, Ireland; who, -having surveyed the whole of the proposed line, in concert with the -Company’s Civil Engineer, has reported most favourably of the scheme, -and has offered suggestions which will produce a saving to the Company -of nearly half a million sterling in the progress of the works_.’ This -is the way to manage business, gentlemen,” added Mr. Styles, glancing -in a satisfied manner at his two companions, one after the other: then, -looking at his watch, he exclaimed, “Just ten minutes more to stay--and -I must be off! Now, we have settled that I am to be Promoter--you, -Curtis, are to be Secretary--and you, captain, Consulting Engineer. -This evening I will draw up the prospectus: we must have about thirty -good names for the Provisional Committee--and by to-morrow afternoon -the document will be printed and ready.” - -“You will not have time to call on the people to ask them to let you -put down their names?” said Frank Curtis, conceiving at the moment that -his friend was going a trifle too fast. - -“Nonsense, my dear fellow!” exclaimed Mr. Bubbleton Styles: “I know -that I can take the liberty of using the names of at least half of -my intended Provisional Committee-men; and the others will not think -of contradicting the prospectus, when they see that we have got Mr. -Podgson as chairman.” - -“What--Podgson!” cried Mr. Curtis, almost wild with joy and surprise. -“You don’t mean to say that you’ve got Podgson?” - -“Not yet,” answered the speculator, with his characteristic coolness: -“but I _shall_ have him by this time to-morrow.” - -“I thought that you had not spoken of your scheme to a soul before you -met me and the captain this morning----” - -“Neither had I--and Podgson is totally unaware at this moment that -such a project is in existence,” interrupted Mr. Styles, calmly and -deliberately. “But I know how to deal with him: I have read his -character from a distance;--and, although I have never yet exchanged -a word with him in my life, depend upon it I shall hook him as our -chairman before I am twenty-four hours older. Three minutes more!” -cried the speculator: then, as if to make the most of the hundred and -eighty seconds at his disposal, Mr. Styles closed the present interview -in the following business-like and highly gratifying manner:--“You are -both as shabby as you well can be; and you must obtain new clothes as -soon as possible. Here is a ten-pound note for each of you. Moreover -you must get respectable lodgings at once; and you can give a reference -to me. To-morrow, at three o’clock punctually, there will be chops and -sherry in readiness at my office--and I shall expect you both. Not a -moment before three, remember--because you will be interrupting me: and -if you’re a moment after, I shall decline any farther transactions with -you. So good bye--I haven’t time to shake hands.” - -Thus speaking, Mr. Styles rushed from the room, it being four o’clock -to an instant;--and it is perhaps as well to observe that this perfect -man of business had only made an appointment with his friends at the -public-house in Fleet Street, because he had another gentleman to meet -in the neighbourhood at six minutes past four. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXIV. - -CHARLES HATFIELD. - - -It was past midnight; and in only one chamber throughout the Earl of -Ellingham’s spacious mansion was a light still burning. - -In that chamber Charles Hatfield was pacing to and fro--his mind filled -with thoughts of so bewildering, exciting, and painful a nature, that -he felt the inutility of endeavouring to escape from them by retiring -to his couch. - -This young man of twenty-five years of age,--so handsome, -so intelligent, and with the certainly of inheriting vast -riches,--possessing the most brilliant worldly prospects, -and knowing himself to be the object of his parents’ devoted -affection--entertaining, too, a profound love for the beautiful Lady -Frances Ellingham, and having every reason to hope that his passion -was reciprocated,--this young man, with so many advantages in respect -to position, and so many sources of felicity within his view,--Charles -Hatfield was restless and unhappy. - -The striking incident which had marked the day--the sudden discovery -that those whom he had hitherto looked upon as his uncle and his -aunt, were in reality his parents,--the assurance which he had -received respecting the honour of his mother and the legitimacy of his -birth,--then the mysterious fact that his parentage was still to remain -a secret to the world,--all these circumstances combined to torment -him with doubts and misgivings--to excite his curiosity to a painful -degree--and to animate him with an ardent longing to penetrate into all -that was so obscure and suspicious. - -It was true that he had promised his mother never to question her -relative to a subject that might be disagreeable to her;--for the -moment, too, he had been satisfied with the assurances of his -legitimacy which he had received from the lips of his father. But -when he found himself alone in his own bed-chamber--surrounded by the -stillness of night--he could no longer check the natural current of his -reflections:--the deep silence in which the mansion was enveloped--the -secluded position of his apartment--and the slightly romantic turn of -his mind,--all united to give an impulse to thoughts which were so -intimately associated with subjects of mysterious and strange import. - -Then, many circumstances, remembered in connexion with his -early boyhood, but until now never before pondered upon -with serious attention,--recollections, hitherto vague and -disjointed,--gradually assumed a more intelligible aspect to his mental -contemplation:--memory exerted herself with all her energy, to fill -up blanks and bring vividly forward those reminiscences that until -this moment had been like dim and misty vapours floating before the -mind’s eye:--he fixed his gaze intently on the past, until the feeblest -glimmerings assumed a bolder and more comprehensible light;--and by -degrees the confusion of his ideas relative to his early being, yielded -to something like order--so that he became enabled to fit incidents -into their proper places, and even make some accurate calculations with -regard to the dates of particular occurrences. - -[Illustration] - -In a word, a light had streamed in upon his soul--illuminating many -of the hitherto unexplored cells of his memory,--giving significancy -to recollections on which he had never before paused to ponder, and -investing with importance various reminiscences that had not until this -period engaged his serious attention. - -Naturally of a happy--cheerful disposition,--and intent on soaring -aspirations relative to the future, rather than on speculations and -wanderings connected with the past,--he had never until now been -struck with certain facts which, though having a dwelling-place in his -memory, had failed to occupy his meditations or excite any thing like -suspicions in his mind. - -But _the incident_ of the day had set him to work, in the silence of -his chamber and the depth of night, to call forth all those sleeping -reminiscences--examine them one by one--connect them together--make -them up as well as he could into a continuous history--and from the -aggregate deduce a variety of truths intimately regarding himself. - -All this was not done through any disrespect for his mother or his -father--any change of fueling in reference to them. No:--he loved them -the more tenderly--the more fervently, now that he knew they were _his -parents_, and not _mere relations_. But if he fell into the train of -thought in which we now find him engaged, it was that he could no more -help yielding to that current of reflections than a child could avoid -being carried whirlingly along the rapids of the Canadian stream which -had engulphed it. - -And now let us see into what connected form the meditations and -recollections of Charles Hatfield had settled themselves? - -Seating himself at the table, on which he leant his elbows, and -supporting his head on his hands, in which he buried his face, he -pondered in the ensuing manner:-- - -“My earliest remembrances carry me back to a period when I must -have been about five years old; and then I was accustomed to call a -good woman whose name was Watts, my _mother_. But she died--I forget -precisely under what circumstances; and then, when I was nearly six, -I was taken care of by a gentleman named Rainford. Yes--and he had -a beautiful wife named Tamar;--and this Tamar was the sister of the -Countess of Ellingham. Mr. Rainford and Tamar were very kind to me, I -remember well; but I was not with them long. And now there is so much -confusion in my thoughts--so much bewilderment in my reminiscences -touching that particular period in my life, that I scarcely know how -to render my ideas continuously accurate. I fully recollect, however, -that he whom I grew accustomed to call by the endearing name of -‘_father_’ although I knew that he was not my father--I mean this Mr. -Rainford,--I recollect, I say, that he was absent for some weeks, and -that I pined after him. Then Tamar would reassure me with promises of -his return--but I remember that she used to weep very much--oh! very -much! One day she put on black clothes--and she was going to dress me -in mourning also; but she cried bitterly, and threw the dark garments -away. Next I recollect being taken to the house of Mr. de Medina, where -I saw Esther for the first time--that Esther who is now Countess of -Ellingham. The happiness I experienced that day dwells in my mind; -for I recollect as well as if it were but yesterday, that all Tamar’s -sorrow had suddenly disappeared, and that she gave me the most earnest -promises that I should soon see Mr. Rainford again.[2] And I did behold -him again soon--but it was at some town in France, whither I was taken -by Mr. de Medina and his two daughters.[3] Then we all travelled in -a post-chaise and four--and we repaired to Paris, where I remember -that the Earl of Ellingham and Jacob Smith joined us.[4] Next we went -to Havre-de-Grace--I remember it was that town, because I have seen -it since; and there Mr. de Medina, Esther, and the Earl of Ellingham -left us--Mr. Rainford, Tamar, Jacob Smith, and myself going on board -of a ship.[5] We were not very long at sea, but the next incident -which I remember was travelling alone with Tamar to London, where we -took up our abode at the country-seat of Mr. de Medina.[6] That was -at Finchley. We never went out, I remember--but kept close to our own -room, Esther and Mr. de Medina frequently visiting us. How long we -lived in this manner I cannot recollect: but now my mind settles with -horror on the never-to-be-forgotten lamentation which, child as I was, -struck horror to my soul as it echoed through the dwelling! For Mr. -de Medina and Esther had suddenly learnt that Tamar--the good, kind -Tamar--who had been absent a considerable time that day, was foully and -brutally murdered. Oh! how I cried--how bitterly I wept: but if I asked -any questions--which I must naturally suppose that I did--they were not -answered, or were answered vaguely. Yes--all particulars were carefully -kept from me;--and this was doubtless nothing more than a mere matter -of prudence--for I was but a child of between six and seven! Mr. -Rainford now came back to live at Finchley; but how unhappy he was! -I remember well one evening--a very few days only after the dreadful -death of her whom I was wont to call ‘_my mamma_’--that Mr. Rainford, -after a long conversation in whispers with Lord Ellingham, suddenly -turned towards me--caught me up in his arms--and covered me with -kisses. Yes--that incident has ever remained indelibly impressed upon -my memory![7] It was followed very soon by Tamar’s funeral; and almost -immediately afterwards I was sent to a school at a great distance--for -I remember that Mr. de Medina and Esther themselves took me there, and -that we travelled all day in a post-chaise. Ah! and now I recollect -too--yes--it flashes to my mind, that before they left me they charged -me never to mention the name of Rainford at the school;--for my own -name was at that time Charles Watts. For three years did I remain -there, Mr. de Medina and Esther frequently visiting me, even after she -had become the Countess of Ellingham. Every six months I went home to -Finchley for the holidays, and found Mr. Rainford always staying at Mr. -de Medina’s house, and always ready to receive me with kindness. Then -Mr. de Medina died; and we all went into mourning for him. I returned -to school for another year; and when between ten and eleven I was -suddenly sent for home--that is, to the manor-house at Finchley, which -Mr. Rainford had continued to occupy after Mr. de Medina’s death. But -instead of meeting Mr. Rainford, as I had expected, I was taken into -the presence of a gentleman and a lady, neither of whom I had ever -beheld before. These were Mr. Hatfield and Lady Georgiana!” - -Here the young man paused in his meditations, as if to fix all his -powers of thought with as much intensity as possible upon that era of -his life whence dated at it were a new existence. But his ideas came -rushing in upon his soul with such overwhelming force, as literally -to hurry him along; and, obedient to the current of continuous and -self-linking reflections, he thus proceeded in that silent history -which he was repeating to himself:-- - -“And what were my first impressions on entering into the presence -of Mr. Hatfield and Lady Georgiana? I scarcely know now--for I -remember that the lady snatched me to her bosom--folded me in a fond -embrace--covered me with kisses--and even wept over me. It was the -first time I had ever seen her, to my recollection. Mr. Hatfield then -embraced me in his turn, and with as much fervour as if he had been the -Mr. Rainford whom I had expected to meet and to behold! I was then, as -I just now reckoned, between ten and eleven when all this happened; -and it struck me--I recollect it well--that there was a considerable -likeness between Mr. Rainford and Mr. Hatfield:--but then Mr. Rainford -had light hair, and Mr. Hatfield black,--Mr. Rainford had reddish -whiskers, and those of Mr. Hatfield were dark as jet. Yes: those were -my ideas at the time; but I suppose that they were the offspring of a -delusion. Nevertheless, when I call to mind the features of that Mr. -Rainford who was so good to me in my infancy, it even seems now that I -can recollect a resemblance between them and the countenance of my own -father such as it now is. Still, this is most probably mere fancy;--and -I wish to arrive at truths, not indulge in idle speculations. Well, -then--to go back to that interview,--that first interview between -myself and those who have since turned out to be my parents,--I can -call to mind each look they bestowed upon me--each word they uttered. -They told me that they were my uncle and my aunt--that they were rich, -and intended to have me to live with them altogether thenceforth, and -be recognised as their heir--that Mr. Rainford had gone upon a long, -long voyage to settle in a far-off land, whence perhaps he should never -return--and that they would supply the place of the parents whom I had -lost in my infancy and of the generous friend who had thus quitted his -native shores for ever! There was so much in the voice--manner--and -language of Mr. Hatfield which reminded me of Mr. Rainford, that -this circumstance materially consoled me for the deprivation of -my long-loved protector; and I was moreover just at that age when -kindness, handsome clothes, indulgence, and the change of scene which -immediately followed, were fully calculated to attach me to those who -gave me so many enjoyments. Thus, I am afraid that I was ungrateful to -the memory of Mr. Rainford--by loving Mr. Hatfield too soon and too -well,--for I could not then suspect that he was my father;--no--nor did -I ever until the truth burst so suddenly on me this day! But, ah! it -was nature which prompted that feeling;--and I remember well how joyous -and happy I was when told, on the occasion of that first interview, -that thenceforth I must bear the name of _Hatfield_!” - -Here he paused again, as if in doubt whether he had omitted any detail, -reminiscence, or incident which should constitute a link in the -narrative that he was endeavouring, in his progressive thoughts, to -render as complete as possible;--and solemnly--profoundly interesting -would it have been for a human observer, himself unobserved, to have -contemplated that fine and handsome young man, thus devoting the hours -when others slept to the task of tracing, by memorial efforts, his -career from the days of infancy to the present moment! But no eye -beheld him save that of Him who beholdeth all things, and who sleepeth -never! - -“Scarcely had I thus been taken into the care of Mr. and Lady -Georgiana Hatfield,”--it was thus he proceeded in his continuous -meditations,--“when we repaired to the Continent. Having travelled -through France, we crossed the Alps, and entered the delicious land -of Italy. The Sardinian States were traversed by us in that leisurely -manner which allowed us to view every thing worthy of inspection;--for -some weeks we stayed at Florence, the capital of the beauteous Grand -Duchy of Tuscany;--thence we journeyed to Rome,--and for several months -did we sojourn in the Eternal City. But the health of a young man who -was with us, and whose name was Jacob Smith, required a change of -climate. Mr. Hatfield was deeply attached to this youth, who, on his -side, treated my father with the utmost deference and devotedness. -The Roman physicians recommended the genial air of Montoni; and we -accordingly removed to the sovereign city of Castelcicala. But Jacob -Smith appeared to have some secret sorrow preying upon him; and he -pined away before our very eyes. Yes--he _had_ a secret source of -grief: for I remember well now, that one night he uttered dreadful -screams and ejaculations in his sleep, which awoke and alarmed me--for -I slept in the next room to him. I recollect that I rushed in, fearful -lest his chamber had caught on fire; and that before I could arouse -him, he shrieked forth in thrilling tones--‘_Old Death--Benjamin -Bones--my father! No--no!_’--Poor fellow, he died soon afterwards; -and I wept much--for he was always kind and good to me! But that -ejaculation of ‘_Old Death--Benjamin Bones!_’ even then seemed to -touch some chord within my soul, as if awaking a long dormant but -vague reminiscence: and now again, that name of _Benjamin Bones_--that -frightful appellation of _Old Death_,--Oh! they do not seem so -unfamiliar to me as if I had never heard them mentioned but that once, -and by the lips of Jacob Smith. Were not those names, in fact, in some -way associated with recollections of a much earlier date? Did I never -hear those names pronounced in my earliest boyhood? It appears to me -that I did; and yet I vainly--oh! how vainly endeavour to plunge my -eager glances through the mist--the dense, dark mist, which envelopes -that idea,--reducing the thought to a suspicion so dim and vague that I -dare not adopt it as a link in this history of mine! And yet why does -the name of _Old Death_ produce a kind of shuddering within me, as if -the influence of a very early recollection still partially remained? -Wherefore does the appellation of _Benjamin Bones_ seem more familiar -to me, than I can possibly conceive a reason for? There are moments -when I appear to obtain the least glimmering--the least scintillation -of a light at the remote profundity of this mystery,--a light which for -an instant seems to promise an elucidation of all I wish to know in -that respect, and then becomes suddenly extinguished--leaving me in a -deeper and darker uncertainty than before!” - -Charles Hatfield pressed his hands violently to his forehead, as if -to awaken recollections that slumbered too soundly to be otherwise -aroused: but he could not conjure up nor evoke a single idea that was -calculated to throw any light on the obscurity which enveloped every -thing in his mind respecting the two names, the utterance whereof -thrilled to his very soul. - -“What means that horrible phrase--_Old Death_?” he asked himself -a hundred times: “and is it in any way connected with the name of -_Benjamin Bones_? Is the phrase a name itself likewise? and if so, -are _Old Death_ and _Benjamin Bones_ one and the same person? Why -should those names produce upon me a disagreeable effect, as if I -suddenly came in contact with a loathsome snake? I know not:--and yet -it is so! The more I ponder upon that night when poor Jacob Smith -shrieked out in his sleep--the more vivid do my recollections become -concerning the horror that convulsed him, and the piercing--tense -anguish which marked his tone! Oh! then, there must have been something -dreadful--appalling--terrible in the associations which the names of -_Old Death_ and _Benjamin Bones_ conjured up in the young man’s mind -at the time; and this Benjamin Bones must have been a bad--a very -bad person. But wherefore do I say ‘_must have been_?’ May he not be -alive now? In a word--what do I know of him? Nothing! nothing! And -yet--and yet, something seems to tell me that I did know more of him -once than I do now! Perhaps, when I was a child, I heard evil things -said of him,--things which have long since fled from my mind, leaving -only a general and very faint impression behind--and that impression -unfavourable to the object of it. Let me not then dwell longer on this -point of my narrative--that narrative which I seek to compile from the -myriads of ideas that until this night have been all scattered in my -brain--never concentrated and reduced to order until now! Yes--from -that chaos of memories, I have succeeded in rescuing reminiscences -and thoughts sufficient to form a somewhat continuous and connected -history;--and heaven must guide me, if its will so be, sooner or later -to clear up all that is still obscure, and gratify my craving--ardent -curiosity unto the fullest extent! But wherefore am I devoured with -this burning desire to know all that there may be to know relative to -myself? Alas! ’tis in my nature: the incident of the day just past -has suddenly aroused that curiosity within me--for I feel, I have an -innate conviction that there is a mystery attached to my birth, the -elucidation of which must some day or another have a powerful influence -upon my destinies! And oh! if it should prove that I am pursuing -investigations which must end in stamping _me_ with the stigma of -illegitimacy, and bringing to light the dishonour of my mother----But, -no--no! this cannot be! My father would not otherwise have given me the -solemn assurance that my mother is _an angel of innocence and purity, -and never has been guilty of weakness or frailty_!” - -Again he paused: and now he arose from his seat, and paced the room -for several minutes--agitated by the fear that he was militating -against the wishes, or perhaps even the interests, of kind parents, by -venturing to give full rein to the impetuous curiosity that had seized -upon him. And yet--as ere now observed--he could not restrain the -ardour of that sentiment, which, more powerful than himself, engulphed -him in its onward, eddying influence. - -Resuming his seat,--resuming likewise his meditative attitude,--and -with his countenance again buried in his hands,--the young man took up -the chain of his thoughts from that point where he had suddenly broken -off to reflect on the secret and mysterious influence which the words -_Old Death_ and _Benjamin Bones_ produced upon him. - -“I reached in my mental narrative that epoch when poor Jacob Smith -died. I was then about thirteen--a little more than thirteen; and I -mourned sincerely for him. Frequently did I visit his grave in the -beautiful cemetery where he was buried; and often--often as I wandered -on the bank of the clear and broad Ferretti, down to whose chrystal -margin that cemetery stretched,--often did I marvel who that departed -youth was--and what secret tie might have linked him to Mr. Hatfield! -Years passed rapidly away,--years unmarked by any incident on which -my mind need pause to ponder: I grew up--happy, gay, and seldom -thinking of the past. The bright and shining future--decked with -all the glorious and golden hues which a sanguine imagination could -devise--was ever the topic of my thoughts. Oh! well do I recollect that -when between eighteen and nineteen years of age, I began to comprehend -the affairs of the great world--to study well the political condition -of nations--and to observe that the State of Castelcicala languished -under the tyranny of the Grand Duke Angelo. Then I longed to become a -hero--to have an army at my command--to achieve the independence, not -only of Castelcicala, but of all Italy. These aspirations continued -until I became an enthusiast in the cause of freedom; and though -of English birth, yet deeply--sincerely did I sympathise with the -generous-hearted Castelcicalans, when the treachery and despotism of -the Grand Duke Angelo called a mighty Austrian army into the State, -to besiege and overawe the capital! But Providence suddenly sent a -champion to rescue a fine country and a noble people from the power -of the invaders. No Castelcicalan native--no Italian patriot watched -the career of Richard Markham with so much anxiety, such burning hope, -and such deep suspense as I! When I heard those persons who were his -best-wishers in their hearts, shake their heads and declare that the -Constitutional Cause could not possibly succeed with so youthful a -leader and such slender resources, I thought otherwise:--yes--I thought -otherwise--because I wished otherwise. Then as victory after victory -marked the progress of the hero--Estella, Piacere, and Abrantani giving -their names to the triumphs of the Constitutional Army,--I longed--Oh! -I longed to fly into the presence of the conqueror, and implore him -to permit me to wield a sword in the same cause. But we were then -prisoners as it were within the walls of Montoni, which was besieged -by the Austrians; and while all was dismay--confusion--and terror -around, I alone seemed to entertain a conviction as to the result. -Nor was I mistaken: the Constitutional Army, under the command of -Richard Markham, advanced to raise the siege--and beneath the walls of -Montoni was fought the most sanguinary action of modern times. From -morning’s dawn till the evening, lasted that terrific encounter;--but -at eight o’clock on that evening the capital was delivered. Yet why -should I now dwell on all these incidents,--why detail to myself all -that followed?--the flight of the Grand Duke Angelo--the accession of -Alberto to the ducal throne--and the subsequent arrival of Richard -Markham, then Prince of Montoni, to settle with his lovely wife, the -Princess Isabella, in the capital of the State which owed so much to -him! Never--never shall I forget the exuberant joy which greeted his -return to Montoni; and to render that day the more remarkable, the -Grand Duke, his father-in-law, had convoked for the first time the -Chambers of Senators and Deputies, instituted by the new Constitution -previously promulgated! And the first act of those Chambers was to -recognise the Prince as heir-apparent to the throne; while the Grand -Duke appointed him Captain-General of the Castelcicalan Army--that -army which he had led to conquest and to glory! It was a joyous and -a memorable day for me when Mr. Hatfield and Lady Georgiana, having -left their cards at the palace, received an invitation to a ball -given by the Grand Duke and Duchess to celebrate the arrival of their -son-in-law and beauteous daughter;--for I was permitted to accompany -those whom I at that time believed to be my uncle and my aunt. Then did -I find myself in the presence of Royalty for the first time; and I was -agreeably disappointed and surprised to discover that condescension, -affability, and great kindness of manner were fully compatible with the -loftiest rank,--for such was the bearing of the Grand Duke Alberto and -his Duchess, as well as of the Prince and Princess of Montoni. From -that time forth I have become almost a worshipper of his Royal Highness -the Prince,--an enthusiastic admirer of his genius, his character, and -his glorious achievements:--to me he appears unrivalled as a warrior, -faultless as a statesman, and estimable as a man,--endowed with every -virtue--every qualification that can ennoble him not only as an -individual who created rank and honours for himself by his high merits, -but who is also the most splendid specimen of Nature’s aristocracy that -the world has ever yet seen!” - -The young man raised his head as he reached this climax in his -thoughts; and as the light of the lamp beamed upon his countenance, -it was reflected in eyes brilliant with enthusiasm and with the glow -excited by a heart swelling with the loftiest aspirations. - -“Oh! shall I ever be able to raise myself to eminence?” he exclaimed, -clasping his hands together, as if in earnest appeal to heaven: “may -I hope ever to make for myself a name which the whole world shall -pronounce with respect and admiration? But first--first,” he continued, -still speaking aloud and in an excited tone,--“I must satisfy this -ardent curiosity which has seized upon me! Wherefore all these dreadful -mysteries?--wherefore do not my parents acknowledge me as their son, -if I be really legitimate?--why am I still to pass as their nephew? -Are they ashamed of me?--have I ever done aught to bring disgrace -upon their name? No--no: and they gave me that name--their own name -of Hatfield, and of their own accord! But who was the good woman, -Sarah Watts, that I used to call by the title of _mother_?--why was -I entrusted in my infancy to her care?--for what motive was it that -my parents never took charge of me until I was upwards of ten years -of age?--and who was that kind and generous Mr. Rainford that I loved -so much, and whom I have not now heard of for many long--long years? -Oh! I must find the solutions of all these mysteries--the answers to -all these questions! Yes:--whatever be the result,--whatever be the -consequences, I must tear away the veil which conceals so much of _the -past_ from my view!” - -Charles Hatfield rose from his chair as he pronounced these last words -with strong emphasis; and, beginning to pace the room in an agitated -manner, he was repeating his impassioned determination to clear up all -that was at present obscure and dark, when a remorse struck to his -soul--producing a sensation that made him reel and stagger! - -For had not he said to Lady Georgiana but a few hours previously--“_I -now know that you art my mother--and I care to know nothing more! -Never--never shall I question you concerning the past: the enjoyment of -the present, and the hope which gilds the future--these are enough for -me!_” - -And had not he said to his sire--“_By what right do I dare to question -the conduct of parents who have ever treated me to kindly? No--my dear -father--I seek not any explanation at your hands--I am content to obey -your wishes in all things._” - -Charles Hatfield was a young man of fine principles and noble feelings; -and the solemn nature of those assurances, striking with suddenness and -force upon his mind, filled him with bitter regret that he should have -ever thought of violating such sacred pledges. - -“No--no!” he exclaimed in an impassioned manner,--“I will not play so -vile a part towards my parents--I will not render myself so little -in my own estimation! Let me endeavour, rather, to fly from my -thoughts--to crush, subdue, stifle this wicked curiosity which has -seized upon me--let me indeed be contented with the happiness of the -present and the hopes of the future, and not seek to tear away the veil -that conceals the past! The secrets of my parents must be solemnly -preserved from violation by my profane hands:--how dare I--presumptuous -and wilful young man that I am,--how dare I institute a search into the -private matters and histories of the authors of my being?” - -Then--enraged and indignant with himself, in one sense, and satisfied -with the timeous decision to which he had come in another--Charles -Hatfield hastened to retire to his bed, where the exhaustion and -fatigue of long and painful thought soon sealed his eyelids in slumber. - -But will he succeed in crushing the sentiments of curiosity which have -been awakened within him?--or is he already preparing the way, by this -night’s long meditation, for a vast amount of sorrow to fall upon and -be endured by many? - - - - -CHAPTER CXXV. - -THE PROJECTED RAILWAY COMPANY. - - -It was striking ten by all the clocks at the West End, on the -morning of the day following the incidents which have occupied the -five preceding chapters, when a cab drove with insane speed along a -fashionable street, in that district of the metropolis just alluded to; -and having stopped at the door of the best house in the said street, -out leapt Mr. Bubbleton Styles, with a large roll of papers in his hand. - -“I told you that you would not do it by ten o’clock,” said this -gentleman, addressing the reproach, accompanied by an angry look, to -the cab-man. - -“Not done it by ten, sir!” exclaimed the astonished and indignant -driver: “vy, it’s on’y jest a-finished strikin’ by every blessed clock -in this here part o’ the town.” - -“Just finished striking!” cried Mr. Styles, pulling out his watch: -“it’s a minute and a quarter past ten, I tell you. Here’s your fare.” - -“Two bob, all the vay from Crosby Chambers!” growled the man, turning -the money over and over in a discontented fashion in the palm of his -hand: “come, come--that von’t jest do, if _you_ please, sir. You -promised me three bob if I brought you here by ten----” - -“And you did not fulfil the bargain,” sharply interrupted Mr. -Styles, as he hurried up the steps of the large house and knocked -at the door, which was immediately opened by a servant in such a -splendid--outrageously splendid livery--that no other indication was -required to distinguish the mansion of a _parvenu_--or, in other words, -a vulgar upstart. “Is Mr. Podgson at home?” demanded Mr. Styles. - -“Yes, sir. Walk in, sir. What name, sir?” were the hurried phrases -which came from the domestic’s lips. - -“Vell, ain’t ye a-going to pay us the extra bob, you gent?” cried the -cab-man, as he mounted sulkily to his seat and drew a sack round his -knees although it was in the middle of summer--so strong is the force -of habit. - -Mr. Styles deigned no reply to this derogatory adjuration; but, having -given his card to the servant, he entered the great man’s great -house--while the cab drove away at a pace which seemed to intimate that -the horse had become as sulky as its master. - -The hall was very magnificent: but every thing was new. The -statues--the vases--the marble pillars--the gilding on the doors -that opened into the ground-floor apartments--even to the liveries -of the servants lounging about,--all was new! Mr. Styles was shown -into a small parlour, where the pictures--the mirrors--the mantle -ornaments--the furniture--the carpet--the hangings,--every thing there -was likewise new. The paint scarcely seemed to have dried, nor the -putty in the window-frames to have hardened. - -In a few minutes the domestic, who had left Mr. Styles alone during -that interval, returned with the intimation that Mr. Podgson would see -him at once; and the railway projector was forthwith conducted up a -wide and handsome marble stair-case--through a splendidly furnished -ante-room--into a sumptuous apartment, where the great man was seated -at a table covered with railway plans, letters, maps, newspapers, -visitors’ cards, and Acts of Parliament, all scattered about in -a confusion that had been admirably well _studied_ and _purposely -arranged_. - -The impression of the _newness_ of every thing in the mansion was -strengthened in the mind of Mr. Bubbleton Styles at every pace which he -had taken from the hall-door into the room where he now found himself. -It appeared as if Mr. Podgson--or Mr. Podgson’s wife--or both, had -endeavoured to the utmost of human power to crowd the apartments, the -stair-cases, the landings, and, in fact, every nook and corner, with as -many evidences of wealth as possible. Fine paintings by old masters, -set in bran new glittering frames, were hung in the very worst lights, -and without the least regard to their relative styles, colouring, or -subjects. Each room had two or three time-pieces in it; and as they -were not in accordance with respect to the hour, Mr. Bubbleton Styles’s -ideas of precision and punctuality received a severe shock when he -heard ten o’clock proclaimed half-a-dozen different times during the -first twenty minutes which elapsed after he first set foot in the -mansion. In a word, the entire aspect of the house was a reflection -of the vulgar, untasteful, and self-sufficient minds of the “stuck-up -people” who, having grown suddenly rich, did not know how to render -their dwelling elegant and comfortable without making it gaudy and -ridiculously ostentatious in its appointments. - -Mr. Podgson was a short, stout, thick-set man, with an enormous -stomach, a very wide back, and little stumpy legs. His head seemed to -be stuck on his shoulders without the intervening aid of any neck at -all; and his features were coarsely ugly, and totally inexpressive of -even the slightest spark of intelligence. His tongue appeared to be -much too large for his mouth, his speech being remarkably disagreeable: -indeed, his free utterance seemed to be impeded as if he were always -sucking a large lollipop, or had an enormous quid of tobacco stuck in -his cheek. When he walked, it was with the most ungainly waddle that -can possibly be conceived; and his clothes, though no doubt made by a -fashionable tailor, sate upon him just as if they had been thrown on -with a pitch-fork. Had this man been invested with regal robes,--had he -arrayed himself in the Tyrian purple which Rome’s Emperors were wont to -wear,--he could not have looked otherwise than a low vulgarian,--which -he was! - -We shall not pause for a moment to give any account of the rise of Mr. -Podgson from obscurity to that renown which the sudden acquisition -of great wealth established for him. Having sprung from the people, -he turned against the people when he became a rich man. His property -enabled him to _purchase_ a borough; and the instant he found himself -in Parliament, he joined the Protectionists--the bitter enemies of the -popular cause! - -Had this man taken his place amongst the Liberals, we should not -have remembered his physical ugliness and his immense vulgarity of -manners: we should have admired and esteemed him. But _he_ to associate -with aristocrats,--to squeeze that squat, podgy form amongst the -“exquisites” and the “exclusives” of the West End,--to affect the most -refined notions, and ape every thing fashionable,--for _him_ to do all -this----Oh! it is really too ridiculous--too ludicrous--too absurd to -permit us to keep our countenance when we think of it! - -Persons cannot help being naturally vulgar, any more than they can -help being ugly: but the vulgar should not thrust themselves into -those scenes and spheres where they are certain to stand out in most -ignoble prominency, thereby forcing on all beholders the effect of -the ludicrous contrast;--neither should the ugly adopt such an awful -swagger and assume an air of such insufferable self-complacency as to -render themselves most disagreeably remarkable and conspicuous. - -Mr. Podgson had acquired his immense wealth by railway speculations; -and the disgusting sycophants who invariably attach themselves to rich -men with weak minds, had nonsensically dubbed him the _Railway Lion_! -Had they called him the _Railway Elephant_, in allusion to his unwieldy -proportions--or the _Railway Bear_, in reference to his manners--or the -_Railway Donkey_, in respect to his intelligence,--they would have been -more faithful to truth. But the _Railway Lion_ he was;--and it was now -in the presence of this tremendous animal that Mr. Bubbleton Styles -stood. - -Without rising from his chair, Mr. Podgson, M.P., waved his hand with -all the majesty of a stage-monarch; and as this gesticulation was -intended to be a fashionable--no, a dignified mode of desiring Mr. -Bubbleton Styles to be seated, Mr. Bubbleton Styles seated himself -accordingly. - -Mr. Podgson then stared very hard at his visitor; and this was the -Railway Lion’s method of intimating that he was “all attention.” - -“I believe, sir,” said Mr. Styles, in a very polite and courteous -manner--but without any thing like cringing servility,--“I believe, -sir, that you last night received a letter from Alderman Tripes----” - -“Oh! ah!” exclaimed Mr. Podgson, in his thick voice: “I remember! My -very particular and intimate friend, Mr. Alderman Tripes, assures me in -his communication that you have a famous project on the tappy----” - -Mr. Podgson meant _tapis_--but could not precisely achieve the correct -pronunciation. - -“And that project I shall have much pleasure in submitting to you, -sir,” added Mr. Styles, proceeding to unfold the large roll of papers -which he had brought with him. - -“Well--I don’t mind--that is, to obleege you, I’ll just look over -them,” said Mr. Podgson, in an indifferent--careless way. “But,” he -added, glancing at the elegant watch which he drew with affected -negligence from his waistcoat pocket, “I’ve got an appointment at a -quarter to eleven--and I must be punctual to the rendy-woo.” - -Mr. Styles assured the great man that he would not detain him a moment -beyond the time named for the _rendez-vous_; and, spreading his plans -and maps upon the table, the small speculator began to explain his -objects and views to the large capitalist. - -“Who’s the engineer?” enquired the latter: then, looking at the corner -of the plan, and perceiving the name, he cried, “Oh! Dummerley--eh? -Well--he’s a good man--a very good man! I was talking to Lord Noodleton -the other day about him--Lord Noodleton and me are intimate friends, -you know--very intimate----” - -“His lordship has reason to be proud of your friendship, sir,” observed -Mr. Styles, adroitly availing himself of the opportunity to pay a -compliment. - -“Hem! well--Noodleton _does_ seem grateful,” said, the Railway Lion, -glancing complacently at one of his boots. “But, about this spec of -yours, Mr. Styles? Shall you have a good list of Provisional Committee?” - -“First-rate, sir--especially if you will condescend to head it,” -returned the small speculator with a bow to the great one. - -“Well--we shall see!” exclaimed Mr. Podgson. “But first as to the -probability of success? Let me just make a calculation or two--nothing -is done without calculations; and I’m rayther quick at figures. Now, -your capital is £8,000,000 in 400,000 shares. Good! Deposit, £2 2_s._ -per share. Good again! But about the expenses and receipts--the outlay -and the incomings, on which we may reckon with certainty? Let me -see--twice two’s four--and twice four’s eight--and nine times nine’s -eighty one--and eleven times eleven’s a hundred and twenty one--that -gives us five hundred thousand there--then there’s two hundred thousand -here----Well!” cried the great man, suddenly interrupting himself in -the midst of calculations which, though they were as unintelligible as -the Chinese language to Mr. Styles, it is to be hoped were a trifle -more comprehensive to the gentleman who was making them in a musing, -half-whispering tone, and counting mysteriously on his fingers at the -same time:--“well!” he cried, suddenly desisting from the arithmetical -process with the satisfied air of a man who had arrived at a conviction -by means of the most subtle considerations,--“well, I _do_ think it -will succeed, Mr. Styles--and I----I----” - -“Will condescend to become our Chairman, Mr. Podgson?” said the -other, finishing the sentence which the Railway Lion’s extreme -modesty and sensitive bashfulness had left thus incomplete. “I am -well aware, sir,--and the public are well aware likewise--that you -have entered into the grand affairs of the Railway World with no -interested motive,--that you never took a single share with the idea -of making it a means of gain! No--sir--your views have been wholly -and solely to benefit your fellow countrymen. Indeed, you yourself -have proclaimed as much in your place in the House of Commons--and the -civilised world echoes with the mighty truth! You are a benefactor, -sir--a philanthropist--a patriot; and no sordid ideas ever influenced -you! It is upon this ground, and on this ground only,--without even -venturing to hint that there will be five thousand shares reserved for -the Chairman and Provisional Committee-men, and that they are certain -to rise to a high premium the moment they are issued,--without daring -to mention such a thing in _your_ presence, sir--but relying solely -on your known readiness to countenance every fair--legitimate--and -honourable undertaking which promises to benefit our fellow-men -and produce fifty per cent. profits,--’tis upon these grounds, Mr. -Podgson, that I solicit you to become the Chairman of the Grand British -Longitudinal Railway!” - -Mr. Styles narrowly watched the effect which this magniloquent oration -produced upon the Railway Lion; and as he beheld the fat, ignoble, -vulgar countenance of that stupendous animal slowly expanding with -satisfaction, he knew that he was as sure of nailing Mr. Podgson for a -Chairman, as he was sure of seeing Captain O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Frank -Curtis in the afternoon at three o’clock to partake of chops and sherry -at Crosby Hall Chambers. - -Nor was Mr. Bubbleton Styles mistaken. In as dignified a manner as -it was in his nature to assume, and in as good English as it was in -his power to employ, the great Mr. Podgson gave his assent to the -proposition; and Mr. Styles was already in the midst of a set speech of -thanks, when a pompous-looking livery-servant entered the room. - -“Well, Thomas--what now?” demanded Mr. Podgson. - -“Please, sir,” answered the domestic, whose countenance denoted -offended dignity and wounded pride, “there’s a troublesome gentleman -down below who says he must and will have a hinterview with you, -sir----” - -“Must and will!” ejaculated the Railway Lion, sinking back in his chair -with an amazement which could not have been greater had some one rushed -in to tell him that the Chinese had invaded England and made a Mandarin -Lord Mayor of London. - -“Yes, sir--must and will!” groaned the horrified domestic. - -“Well--I never heard such impudence in my life!” exclaimed Mr. -Bubbleton Styles, affecting the deepest indignation--a little piece of -hypocrisy which completely won the Railway Lion’s heart. - -“And does this _person_--for you was wrong to call him a -_gentleman_, John,” said Mr. Podgson, somewhat recovering from -his stupefaction,--“does this _person_, who _must_ and _will_ see -_me_--_me_, John--_me_, Mr. Styles,--does this _person_, I say, give -his name or business?” - -“Please, sir, he gave me his card,” returned the flunkey; “and here it -be.” - -The high and mighty Railway Lion took the pasteboard between the tips -of his thumb and fore-finger; and having glanced at it, he tossed it -with sublime scorn into a waste-paper basket, exclaiming in his rough, -disagreeable voice, “Mr. Clarence Villiers--eh? Well--I suppose I’d -better see him. Don’t move, Mr. Styles: you shall just see how I’ll -serve the insolent fellow that _must_ and _will_ have an interview with -ME!” - -The domestic retreated without turning his back upon his master,--or, -in other words, stepped backwards to the door, as if he were quitting -the presence of Royalty; and Mr. Styles again vented his well-affected -indignation and surprise that “people should be so bold and -inconsiderate as to obtrude themselves into the presence of Mr. Podgson -in such a manner.” - -“Bold and inconsiderate!” repeated the Railway Lion. “It is owdacious -and intolerable.” - -“Shameful!” cried Mr. Styles. - -“Perfectly insupportable!” vociferated Mr. Podgson. - -“Monstrous in the extreme!” exclaimed Mr. Bubbleton Styles, actually -working himself up into a passion. - -“But I’ll put a stop to it!” continued the Railway Lion, dealing a -tremendous blow with his clenched fist upon the table: “I’ll bring in -a Bill next Session, Mr. Styles, to protect public men from insolent -intrusion!” - -“It will serve the scoundrels quite right, my dear sir,” responded the -small speculator, approvingly. - -“By Gad! I’ll pay the reskels off for it!” exclaimed the mighty man, -who could command hundreds of thousands of pounds, but not the minutest -fraction of his temper. - -The door now opened again; and the pompous domestic, whose countenance -was expressive of deep indignation, ushered in the reader’s old -friend--Mr. Clarence Villiers,--now a fine, handsome man, in the prime -of life. - -“Well, sir--and what do _you_ want?” demanded Mr. Podgson, with all the -overbearing insolence of a contemptible _parvenu_. - -“In the first place, sir,” replied Clarence, speaking in a firm but -gentlemanly tone, and glancing towards the servant who lingered near -the door, “I must take the liberty of advising you to recommend your -lacquey, to treat at least with respect, if not with courtesy, those -persons whom business may bring to your house; for I can assure you -that it required no ordinary forbearance on my part to restrain my hand -from laying this cane across his shoulders.” - -“What, sir--you dare, sir----” stammered Mr. Podgson, his vast, ignoble -countenance becoming the colour of scarlet. - -“I dare chastise any one who is insolent to me, be he who or what he -may, sir,” answered Villiers, in a very significant way, and in so -determined a tone, too, that the pompous domestic evaporated and the -Railway Lion was struck speechless with amazement--for he felt as if -he were literally bearded in his den! “Being myself a gentleman by -birth and education, and I hope in manners and conduct, I am accustomed -to treat my equals with courtesy and my inferiors with kindness; and -I will tolerate insult from neither. But enough of that subject, -Mr. Podgson,” continued Villiers: “the object of my visit is soon -explained. For many years I have enjoyed a confidential situation in -the service of the Earl of Ellingham----” - -“Oh! I really beg your pardon, Mr. Villiers!” exclaimed the Railway -Lion, with a start as if the piles of a voltaic battery had suddenly -been applied to his unwieldy carcase. “I wasn’t aware that you knew -Lord Ellingham--or else----But pray take a chair, Mr. Villiers.” - -“Thank you, sir--I would rather stand,” answered Clarence, in a -cold--almost contemptuous tone; for he saw full well that this sudden -politeness was not paid to _himself_, but to his connexion with -aristocracy. “Yesterday afternoon, Mr. Podgson, I returned from the -country by the Western Provinces Railway; and I was most anxious to -reach London at the usual hour for the arrival of that particular -train, inasmuch as the business which I had in hand for my noble -employer was urgent and pressing. Conceive, then, my annoyance when the -train stopped for three quarters of an hour at a midway station--and -without any substantial reason. I remonstrated with the persons on duty -at that station: I even alighted, and saw the clerk. Several other -gentlemen, whose time was likewise precious, joined me in my endeavours -to prevent farther delay,--but all in vain! And the excuse was--_that -the train had to wait for a basket of fruit, for Mrs. Podgson, the lady -of the Chairman of the Company_! Now, sir, with all possible respect -for the fair sex, I submit to you that it is too bad----” - -“And pray,sir,” interrupted the mighty Railway Lion, flying into a -furious passion, “why should _not_ my wife receive her fruit in time? -By Gad! sir--the train should have waited an hour for it, had it been -necessary; and it would have been as much as the situations of the -guard and engineer were worth to have continued the journey without -that basket!” - -“Then you mean me to understand, sir,” said Villiers, in a calm -and gentlemanly tone which contrasted strongly with the insolent, -overbearing manner of the purse-proud vulgarian-upstart,--“you mean me -to understand that you approve of the conduct of your underlings in -delaying a train containing upwards of a hundred persons, to most of -whom time was precious, for the sake of a basket of fruit!” - -“_Approve_ of it!” cried the Railway Lion, astonished that any doubt -should exist upon the point: “why--I _ordered_ it! sir!” - -“Then all I can say in comment upon such improper conduct is--that -if the Government and the Legislature have permitted Companies to -grasp these tremendous monopolies in order to use them as instruments -of private convenience, without the slightest regard to the time or -feelings of the public,--then, I for one,” continued Clarence Villiers -emphatically, “protest against so atrocious a despotism; and I begin to -be ashamed of my own country, when I find it becoming the scene of a -petty tyranny that would raise an outcry even in Russia or Austria.” - -“Oh! ho! the shoe pinches there--does it,” cried Mr. Podgson, in the -vulgar triumph effected by wealth over the popular interests. “I tell -you what, sir--and I shall not attempt to disguise the matter:--we -_monopolists_, as you call us, have got the railways in our own -hands--and we mean to keep ’em--aye, and to do with ’em just as we -like! Do you know how many hundred miles of railway I’ve got under my -control? Ask the first person you happen to meet--and you’ll be sure to -find out. Well--do you think I won’t use my rights and privileges,--I -may almost say _prerogatives_--eh, Mr. Styles?” - -“Oh! decidedly, my dear sir,” exclaimed that gentleman, approvingly. - -“Well,” resumed the Railway Lion,--“do you think I won’t use my -prerogatives as I choose and fancy? If Mrs. Podgson wants even so -trifling a thing as a new-laid egg from any particular station, the -train shall wait for it. Talk to me about people’s time--what the devil -do I care for it? People must put up with things as they find ’em. They -can’t help themselves: we’ve knocked all the coaches off the roads--and -you have no alternative but to go with us. But perhaps, when a train is -late at starting, or when it is kept as it was yesterday, some of you -knowing gentlemen will be after taking a post-chaise at the Company’s -expense? I’d just advise you to do it! You’d have to sue us for the -amount--and we’d ruin you in return. To recover five guineas you should -have to pay as many hundreds in law costs. Why, sir--it is perfect -madness to think of fighting great Public Companies;--and we’ll let the -people know it too.” - -Having arrived at this liberal and enlightened determination, the -Railway Lion ceased through sheer exhaustion,--the volubility of -passionate declamation not suiting his guttural voice. - -“Although, sir, I obtain at your hands no satisfaction for the infamous -delay to which the train was subjected yesterday,” said Mr. Villiers, -who had listened with calm and gentlemanly attention to the furious -mouthings of the upstart,--“I am nevertheless pleased that I should -have taken the trouble to call upon you in reference to the matter. I -have learnt a lesson which I had not expected. I find that the sudden -acquisition of wealth is calculated to set a man who rises _from_ the -People, _against_ the People; and that monopoly is a more tremendous -engine of oppression in the hands of narrow-minded and self-sufficient -persons than even its greatest haters could have conceived. I do not -envy you your riches, sir--nor your sovereign sway over many miles of -railroad--no, nor even the title with which a fulsome and contemptible -flattery has invested you:--for the poorest mechanic who does his duty -towards his fellow-creatures, is a worthier and more estimable being -than you.” - -With these words--uttered not savagely, but in a tone of firm and -measured reproach--Clarence Villiers retired from the presence of the -Railway Lion, who appeared for the moment to have had “a calf’s skin” -thrown about “his recreant limbs,” so astounded and amazed was he at -the language which his visitor had _dared_ to address to him. - -[Illustration] - -“This is the most atrocious proceeding I ever knew in the whole course -of my life!” at length exclaimed Mr. Bubbleton Styles, who in reality -had been much amused by the scene. - -“I suppose that the riff-raff--as I always call the People--will be -telling us next that railways are public property!” cried Mr. Podgson: -“but we’ll show ’em the difference--eh, Mr. Styles?--won’t we, Mr. -Styles?” - -And the Railway Lion condescendingly thrust his fingers in a jocular -way into the small speculator’s ribs;--and then the great man and the -little man had a hearty laugh together--that of the former being in -the boisterous “ho! ho! ho!” style, and that of the latter in the more -respectful and submissive “he! he! he!” fashion. - -Having got upon this very comfortable and pleasant understanding -together, Mr. Podgson and Mr. Styles chatted for about a quarter of -an hour respecting the new railway scheme: and the latter took his -departure, highly delighted with the reception he had experienced and -the success of his visit. - -Punctually as the clock struck three that afternoon, did Captain -O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Curtis present themselves at the office in Crosby -Hall Chambers; and as the third stroke was proclaimed by the churches -in the neighbourhood, they entered the speculator’s private room, where -that gentleman was seated at the table with his watch in his hand. - -“Good!” exclaimed Mr. Styles, returning the watch to his pocket: “this -is business-like--and I am well pleased. The chops, you perceive, are -smoking hot--the sherry, I know, is first-rate.” - -Thus speaking, he did the honours of the table and the two guests did -honour to the meal. The chops speedily disappeared--so did a bottle of -wine; and a second was already opened before a word had been uttered on -business matters. - -“Now, gentlemen,” at length cried Mr. Styles; “I will give you a toast. -Here’s the health of our Chairman--the Railway Lion!” - -“No! you don’t mean to say----” ejaculated Mr. Curtis. - -“Hould your tongue, Frank--and let Misther Sthyles say whatever he -chooses!” exclaimed the captain. “Dhrink the toast, man--and that’s all -about it!” - -“I can assure you, gentlemen,” continued the promoter of the new -concern, “that I have fulfilled the promise which I made you yesterday. -Podgson is ours!” - -“Hooray!” vociferated Frank Curtis. - -“Hur-rah-ah!” thundered Captain O’Blunderbuss. - -“It is indeed a subject for gratulation,” said Mr. Styles, “The next -point I wish to speak to you about is the prospectus, a proof of -which I have received from the printer. It would have been all ready -for issue by this time, only my interview with the Railway Lion was -prolonged far beyond the hour at which I had expected to be back in the -City again;--and you may be sure that I was in no hurry when engaged -with _him_,” added Mr. Bubbleton Styles, smiling significantly. “Here, -you see,” he continued, displaying the proof of the flaming prospectus -which he had drawn up,--“here is the glorious document. It is -sufficient to set the very Thames on fire. Never were such magnificent -promises--never such brilliant hopes held out! And look--thirty-two -names of the most eminent Aldermen, merchants, Common Councilmen, and -gentlemen----” - -“Why--half of them have got F.R.S. to the end of their names!” -ejaculated Frank Curtis: “what the deuce does that mean? And, by Jove!” -he cried, now completely beside himself with astonishment,--“this is -strange! Here’s the ‘_Secretary, Francis Curtis, Esq., F.R.S., M.A., -M.S.L.S., &c. &c._’ My dear friend Styles----” - -“Patience--patience, Frank,” said that gentleman, with bland -complacency. “Those initials stand for various honorary distinctions -which give respectability to the name. For instance, you are -represented as being a _Fellow of the Royal Society_, a _Master of -Arts_, and a _Member of Several Learned Societies_. God bless you, my -dear fellow! even the very _et ceteras_ have their weight in a Railway -Prospectus.” - -“But I am nothing of all that you describe!” ejaculated Frank Curtis, -surveying Mr. Styles with an expression of amazement that was quite -ludicrous. - -“I am well aware of that,” answered the City gentleman, coolly: -“neither are half the Aldermen or Common-Councilmen F.R.S.’s or any -thing else--unless it is A.S.S.’s. But no Railway scheme can be got up -without this kind of _gammon_--for that is precisely the word; and an -Alderman who would send a poor devil to the treadmill for obtaining -goods under false pretences if he only represented himself as Jones -instead of Noakes, will himself assume any honorary distinction that -is calculated to gull the public. Look at Alderman Higgs Higgs, for -example’s sake! Glance over the list of different Railway schemes--and -amongst the Provisional Committee-men belonging to each you will see -‘_Higgs Higgs, Esq., Alderman, F.R.S., &c. &c._’ Even that consummate -ass, Alderman Sun, has dubbed himself in a similar fashion;--and -therefore I see no reason why Frank Curtis, Esq., or Captain Gorman -O’Blunderbuss, should not be an F.R.S. likewise.” - -This explanation was highly satisfactory to the two gentlemen last -mentioned; and on the strength of it they drank bumpers to the success -of the projected enterprise. - -“I have duly registered the Company,” observed Mr. Styles; “and I have -had an interview with Dummerley, the Engineer, this afternoon! Oh! I -can assure you that I have not been idle. Dummerley is ready to swear -that he has surveyed the whole line from the south of England to the -north of Scotland----” - -“But how is that possible?” demanded Frank, again lost in astonishment: -for, crafty and cunning as he was in petty trickeries, he was -altogether bewildered in the mazes of colossal swindles. “You only -thought of the plan a few days ago--and Dummerley would not have even -had time to travel the whole distance there and back post haste--much -less to survey it leisurely.” - -“You are quite green in these matters, Frank,” observed Mr. Styles. - -“Green!” ejaculated Captain O’Blunderbuss: “be Jasus! the Imerald Isle -itself isn’t so green as my frind Frank in cer-r-r-tain respicts. But -it’s afther enlightening him ye are, Misther Sthyles--and he’ll be all -the betther for the taching.” - -“Dummerley is a regular good fellow, I can assure you,” resumed -the promoter. “‘_You will be the Engineer_,’ said I to him this -afternoon: ‘_I told Podgson that you would._’--‘_Most certainly_,’ -he replied.--‘_And in case the Bill should be opposed in Committee, -you will be ready to swear that you particularly surveyed the part -of the line relative to which objections may be raised?_’--‘_Oh! -of course_,’ was his answer.--‘_And you will also swear that your -plans are perfectly correct?_’--‘_As a matter of course_,’ he again -replied.--‘_Well, then_,’ said I, ‘_here’s a five pound note for you; -and now fall to work as hard as you can to get all the plans up in -such a business-like way that they may look legitimate_.’--Dummerley -accordingly took himself off as happy as a prince; and thus every -thing goes on completely in our favour. But it is now three minutes -to five; and at five precisely I step into the Hackney omnibus at the -Flower-Pot,” added Mr. Styles, looking at his watch for the hundredth -time during the last quarter of an hour. - -Frank Curtis and Captain O’Blunderbuss took the hint and their -departure; and the promoter of a scheme for raising millions treated -himself with a six-penny ride in an omnibus as far as Cambridge Heath -Gate, in which suburban quarter this great man resided in a six-roomed -house, including the kitchens. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXVI. - -ELUCIDATIONS. - - -At the conclusion of the hundred and twenty-fourth chapter we asked -whether Charles Hatfield would succeed in crushing the sentiments of -curiosity that had been awakened within him? - -Alas! no--it was impossible! - -His better feelings, aroused by the startling remembrance of the -assurances he had respectively given his father and mother, had for -a few hours triumphed over that insatiable longing to penetrate into -the mysteries of the past:--but when he again found himself alone in -his chamber, in the silence of night, he could not subdue the thoughts -which forced themselves upon him, and which were all connected with -those mysteries. - -Thus was it that we again find him pacing his chamber while others -slept,--pacing up and down in an agitated and excited manner, and -maintaining a desperate struggle within his own soul. - -For the irresistible temptation which beset him, was to ponder once -more and deeply on the incidents of his early days, and to endeavour -to retrieve from the abysses of his memory any other recollections -that might be slumbering there. For the sake of the pledge given -to his mother--for the sake of the assurance made to his father, -he strove,--yes--sincerely, ardently he strove--to vanquish that -temptation: yet he could not--human nature possessed not so grand a -power;--he might have ruled his actions by his will--but his thoughts -defied all controul. - -Yielding, therefore, at length to their current, he was whirled along -by the same eddying tide of reflections which had swept him through so -considerable a portion of the preceding night;--and now the efforts of -memory--by one of those superhuman strainings which, while they seem as -if they must break the very fibres of the brain, also appear to evoke -a sudden flash from the depth of some profound cerebral cell,--those -powerful and painful efforts in a moment, as it were, established a -connexion between the name of _Benjamin Bones_ and _the murder of -Tamar_! - -Yes: Charles Hatfield suddenly became aware that the name and the -incident were in some way associated:--and he necessarily supposed -that, in his childhood, he had heard facts mentioned which had created -that impression at the time, but the nature of which he could not now -for the life of him recall to memory. This impression was probably -vague even at the period when it was engendered; because Charles -recollected full well that the utmost caution was adopted by those -around him not to discourse upon the particulars of the foul murder -in his presence, nor even to respond otherwise than evasively to the -questions he put,--he being a mere child at the time. - -As the young gentleman paced up and down, his mind labouring with the -new reminiscence which had arisen within, it suddenly struck him that -there were means of informing himself of all and every detail of that -murder, whereof he at present entertained only a vague and general -impression of its atrocity. His long absence on the continent had -prevented him from ever, even accidentally, falling in with an English -book of criminal annals, or a file of English newspapers, to which he -might have referred, had the thought struck him so to do. But now what -was to restrain him from making those searches which would throw every -light on an occurrence of such fearful interest? - -Scarcely was this idea conceived, when the means of instantaneously -carrying it into execution suggested itself. For Charles Hatfield -remembered that in the well-stored library of the mansion he had -observed a complete set of the _Annual Register_, from the very origin -of that useful work until the most recent date of its publication! - -And now he trembled from head to foot--he literally gasped for breath, -at the thought of being enabled to tear away the veil of mystery from -at least one incident which was so materially connected with his -childhood: for Tamar had been as a mother to him during the few months -that he was in her care! - -There was in his soul a deep and yet undefined presentiment that -he stood on the threshold of strange discoveries--that important -revelations were about to be made to him;--and, without being -superstitious, he bent to the influence of this solemn but dim -forecasting--this awe-inspiring but vague prescience. - -Taking the lamp in his hand, he stole gently from his -chamber--descended the wide and handsome staircase--traversed a -long corridor, in the niches of which stood beautiful specimens of -sculpture--and entered the spacious library. - -On each side of the door was a marble statue as large as life; and the -young man started--but only for a moment--as the white and motionless -effigies stood out suddenly as if it were from the deep darkness which -the lamp illumined. It was not that he had forgotten such statues were -there--nor that he was positively frightened at their appearance:--but -his soul was influenced by one of those presentiments which are of -themselves superstitions in character--and moreover he was on the point -of seeking information relative to the details of a foul and horrible -murder. - -Instantly recovering himself, and blushing at his fears, he advanced -into the library, closing the door carefully behind him: then, -approaching a particular range of shelves, he reached down the _Annual -Register_ for the year 1827. - -In less than a minute he was seated at the table, with the book opened -at the proper place before him;--and greedily--Oh! how greedily he -plunged as it were into its contents. - -But--great heavens!--why starts he thus? What discovery has he -made?--what revelation has been afforded him? - -He learns, with a frightful sinking of the heart, that Rainford was a -highwayman--that he had been executed at Horsemonger Lane Gaol--that he -had been resuscitated by some means or another with which the writer -was unacquainted--that he had reappeared in London in the disguise -of a Blackamoor--and that he had received the royal pardon for all -his crimes. These details were incidentally given in the course of -the narrative of the foul murder of Tamar, who was represented to -have been Rainford’s wife;--and now also Charles Hatfield discovered -how terrific was the connexion between the name of Benjamin Bones -and the assassination of that ill-fated daughter of Israel. Yes--and -he perceived, too, that _Benjamin Bones_ and _Old Death_ were one -and the same individual;--and he shuddered from head to foot as he -perused--nay, almost rushed through the details of the crime which had -been committed nineteen years previously in the subterranean cells -belonging to a house in Red Lion Street, Clerkenwell! - -But Charles Hatfield is not satisfied with what he has already -_devoured_--for we can scarcely use the word _read_:--his curiosity -to know more has become insatiable;--and guided by the hints and the -observations occurring in the narrative of the murder, he refers to an -earlier page in that volume, in order to obtain a full and complete -insight into the trial and condemnation of Rainford--that Rainford whom -he had loved so well! - -The whole particulars were given in detail and with accuracy,--the -robbery of Sir Christopher Blunt--the capture of Rainford by Dykes and -his myrmidons in Lock’s Fields--the trial--the condemnation--and the -execution! - -Charles read--read on with horrified feelings which often threatened -to get the better of him;--but there was one point in the evidence -which rivetted his attention. Dykes, the officer, in explaining the -mode in which the highwayman had been taken into custody, used these -words:--“_When I and my people gained admittance into the house in -Brandon Street, the prisoner was in bed with his mistress, a Jewess_.” - -“Then,” thought Charles Hatfield immediately, “Tamar was not his wife! -Ah! that is clear enough--although the narrative of the murder would -imply otherwise. But the only inference that can be drawn from this -discrepancy, is that the reporter of the assassination was delicately -and judiciously sparing of the feelings of the Medina family--whereas, -in the former case, it was absolutely necessary to record the evidence -just as it was given. Poor Tamar!--no wonder that thy name is never -mentioned now by those who once knew thee--no wonder that even thy -very sister, the Countess of Ellingham, seems to have forgotten thee!” - -Thus, Charles Hatfield suddenly adopted the belief that Tamar was not -Rainford’s wife. Neither, indeed, was she at the time when Rainford -was arrested by Mr. Dykes; and it never struck the young man that the -matrimonial ceremony might have been performed between the period of -Rainford’s resuscitation and the murder of the Jewish lady. For when -the nuptial blessing _was_ performed in Paris, Charles--being then -a mere boy--was not present at the proceedings which took place as -privately as possible in the British Ambassador’s Chapel. As for his -suspicion that the Countess of Ellingham was ashamed to breathe the -name of Tamar,--Oh! the reader may judge how erroneous was that belief! -In her heart of hearts did the generous Esther treasure the image of -that dearly-beloved sister;--and if neither herself nor her noble -husband ever breathed her name, it was through kind feelings towards -Mr. Hatfield and motives of delicacy in respect to Georgiana. But -Charles, being as yet ignorant that his father and Rainford were one -and the same person, could not possibly suspect the necessity for the -exercise of such kind feelings on the one hand or such delicacy on the -other. - -“And thus,” murmured Charles to himself, as he closed the book which -had made such marvellous and horrifying revelations,--“and thus Thomas -Rainford was a highwayman! The good--kind-hearted--generous man who -loved me, was a felon--a criminal: he passed through the hands of the -public executioner! Oh! my God--what dreadful things have I this night -learnt!” he exclaimed aloud, pressing his hand to his forehead. “But -how came this Thomas Rainford to have the care of me?--how was it that -my parents could have left me so long in his hands--or at his disposal? -Oh! no wonder--no wonder that Mr. de Medina and Esther should have -charged me, when first they left me at school, never to mention the -name of Rainford! And now how many gaps in the earliest portion of my -reminiscences are filled up,--that absence of Mr. Rainford for several -weeks, during which period I pined after him--that constant weeping -of Tamar--then the removal to Mr. de Medina’s house, and the sudden -revival of joy which Tamar experienced there. But--a highwayman--a -felon--a criminal! Oh! what awful mysteries envelop all this matter -still! For the Earl of Ellingham was intimate with Rainford--and it -was said, I remember, that at Mr. de Medina’s death he left to this -same Rainford a large fortune. A fortune to whom?--to the seducer of -his daughter--to one who had passed through the hands of the public -executioner! And Lord Ellingham was intimate with the man who seduced -the sister of his intended wife;--and Esther was friendly likewise -with him who ruined that sister. Gracious God! all this is most -unaccountable--so unaccountable, that I am lost and bewildered! But -most mysterious--ten thousand times the most mysterious of all these -incidents, is that one grand fact to which I cannot but recur,--how -could my parents have left me in the care of a highwayman! ’Tis -true that he received the royal pardon: but that pardon----Ah! the -_Register_ says that it was procured through the interest of Lady -Hatfield--that Dykes, an officer of justice, was present at the time -when that lady announced----Just heavens! a light breaks in upon my -soul----Oh! no--no----and yet that resemblance----May God have mercy -upon me!” - -And the young man, groaning bitterly--bitterly, in the anguish of his -spirit, fell back in his chair--covering his face with his hands. - -Yes--a light had indeed broken in upon him, elucidating a terrible -mystery in a terrible manner! Lady Georgiana Hatfield had procured the -royal pardon:--Lady Georgiana Hatfield must therefore have had strong -reasons thus to exert herself in behalf of a convicted felon, who had -passed through the hands of the hangman, but had been recalled to life -and restored to the world in some wondrous manner. But of what nature -were those potent reasons? Naturally did it strike Charles Hatfield -that _love_ must have been the cause;--and when he recollected the -resemblance which existed between his own father and that Thomas -Rainford who had once been his friend and protector, it flashed to his -mind that he in whom Lady Hatfield had shown such tender interest--even -to the compromising of her fair fame in the eyes of the world,--he for -whom she had so far stepped aside from the precise course of female -delicacy as to implore the royal pardon,--he it must be who was her -husband! - -Yes--yes: it was now as clear as the sun at noon-day:--Mr. Hatfield -and Thomas Rainford were one and the same individual,--and -he--Charles Hatfield--was the son of a highwayman who had been -tried--convicted--and ushered through all the ignominious ordeal of the -scaffold! - -For several minutes the young man sat motionless--crushed, stupefied, -astounded by the appalling truth which he had elicited from his fatal -investigations into the past:--for several minutes it must have been a -mere balancing of chances whether he should awake from that dreadful -reverie to the light of reason once more, or suddenly start up a -howling, hopeless maniac! - -But this latter condition was not to be his frightful doom. -By degrees--by very slow degrees, he recovered so much of his -self-possession and composure as to be enabled to look his misfortune -in the face, and even fall into additional reflections on the subject. - -“Yes--Thomas Rainford and Mr. Hatfield are the same individual--and -_he_ is my father! It was but little more than nineteen years ago -when the trial and the ordeal of the gallows took place--and I am -twenty-five! Was my mother--was Lady Hatfield my father’s _wife_ at -that time? In other words--am I legitimate? ‘_As God is my judge_,’ -said my father yesterday, ‘_she has never been guilty of weakness or -frailty_.’ Then what am I to believe? That my father and my mother were -married privately in an honourable manner--and that I was the offspring -of that lawful union;--then, that my father deserted my mother, and -became enamoured of Tamar, whom he took as his mistress;--and, lastly, -that after Tamar’s death, my parents were reunited! This--this must -be the truth--and therefore my father deceived me not when he so -emphatically proclaimed my mother’s virtue and my legitimacy. But--Oh! -my God!--well might he have said that _the weightiest reasons had alone -induced him and my mother to practise a deception towards myself and -the world in respect to the degree of relationship in which I really -stood with regard to them_! Yes--for the world perhaps dates the -marriage of my parents only from the time when they were reunited a few -years after Tamar’s death:--and hence the necessity of calling me their -_nephew_! I understand it all now--Oh! yes, I understand it all too -well! I am legitimate--but I am the son of a highwayman: my God! how -bitterly--bitterly is my curiosity punished this night!” - -And now the young man sobbed as if his heart would break. - -Whither had flown his dreams of ambition?--where now were his hopes of -emulating the career of His Royal Highness, the Prince of Montoni? - -“The son of a highwayman!”--these were the words that fell ten times in -a minute from his tongue:--that was the idea which now sate, dominant -and all-absorbing, but like a leaden weight, upon his soul. - -And did he loathe his father?--did he curse the author of his being? - -No--no: a thousand times, _no_! Deep--profound--immeasurable was the -pity which he entertained for his sire;--and if he loathed any thing, -it was his own existence--if he cursed aught, it was his own being! - -For, oh! terrible indeed was it for that fine young man, of lofty -principles, generous nature, and soaring aspirations,--terrible was it -for _him_ to receive a blow so sudden--a shock so rude--a rebuff so -awful! - -Better--better far had it been for him to remain in ignorance of -his parentage,--still to have looked on Mr. Hatfield as his uncle, -and on Lady Georgiana as his aunt,--rather than have learnt a -secret which only prompted him to fathom collateral mysteries and -clear up associated doubts! For the result of those researches was -the elucidation which had flashed on him with almost lightning -effect,--blasting--searing scorching! - -“Accursed book!” he suddenly exclaimed, hurling the _Annual Register_ -across the apartment, as if the volume were a living thing, and endowed -with human feelings, so as to be susceptible of the venting influence -of his rage. - -But in the next moment he reflected that no trace of an untimely -or mysterious visit to that library must remain,--that none must -suspect his pryings or his researches: for not for worlds--no, not for -worlds--would he have his father or mother know that he had made the -discoveries which characterised this memorable night! He accordingly -rose from his seat--raised the volume from the floor--and turned to the -book-case to replace it. - -This act, so simple in itself, was destined to lead to a circumstance -thenceforth influencing the entire destiny of Charles Hatfield: for as -he thrust the volume back into the place on the shelf whence he had -taken it, he heard a sharp abrupt sound, like the click of a lock. - -He was in that humour when every incident, however trivial, was -calculated to assume an importance in his imagination; and, standing -on a chair, he proceeded to examine the wainscotting at the back of -the shelves--for which purpose he removed several of the books. To -his surprise, he observed a small aperture formed by the opening of a -sliding panel, and which revealed a recess in the wall of about a foot -square,--the violence with which, in his excitement, he had thrust the -book on the shelf, having acted on the secret spring whereby the panel -was fastened. - -Under ordinary circumstances, Charles Hatfield would have immediately -closed the recess, in which he beheld a small leathern case and -a packet of letters,--in the same way as he would have abstained -from reading a manuscript lying on a desk or evidently left about -through inadvertence. But, on the present occasion, he was not his -own master:--his honourable feelings were triumphed over by emotions -of the most painful nature;--and it was impossible, in this state of -mind, that he should avoid catching at any circumstance savouring of -mystery,--every such circumstance apparently linking itself with his -own concerns. - -Thus, obedient to an impulse which he could not controul, he seized the -leathern case and the documents as if they were a glorious prize; and, -returning to his seat, proceeded to examine them. - -The leathern case contained a roll of letters, and other documents -_tied round with a piece of riband so faded that it was impossible to -determine what its colour might have originally been_. The writing in -the papers was, however, still completely legible--the leathern case, -and the total absence of damp in the little recess, having preserved -them for a period of half a century! - -Wrapped round the roll of papers in the case, was a letter, addressed -to the Earl of Ellingham; and it instantaneously struck Charles that it -was in the handwriting of his father--Mr. Hatfield! By the comparative -darkness of the ink, it was of a far more recent period than the -documents which it accompanied;--but the precise time when it was -written did not immediately appear, no date being attached to it. - -Without pausing to reflect upon the impropriety of violating the -sanctity of correspondence concealed with so much precaution in a -secret recess,--but carried away by the influence of those feelings -which we have above attempted to describe,--Charles Hatfield devoured -the contents of this letter; and though they are already familiar to -the reader, yet for the purposes of our narrative we quote them again:-- - - “I have sent you the papers, my dear brother--for so I shall - make bold to call you still,--to convince you that I did not - forge an idle tale when we met last. Whatever your motive - for abandoning me in my last hour may be, I entertain no ill - feeling towards you: on the contrary, I hope that God may - prosper you, and give you long life to enjoy that title and - fortune which in so short a time will be beyond the possibility - of dispute. - - “I had promised to leave behind me a written narrative of my - chequered and eventful history for your perusal: but--need I - explain wherefore I have not fulfilled this promise? - - “T. R.” - -“His brother--his dear brother!” gasped Charles Hatfield, as the letter -dropped from his hands; but his eyes remained intently fixed upon it: -“his brother!” he repeated. “My God! then am I the nephew of the Earl -of Ellingham?--am I the cousin of Lady Frances, whom I already love so -well? But----gracious heavens!” he ejaculated, as another and still -more thrilling idea flashed to his mind: “if Mr. Hatfield be indeed -the brother of the Earl of Ellingham--as he assuredly is,--then is he -the elder brother! And if the elder brother, he himself should be the -bearer of the title--and I--I should be a Viscount! But--ah! perhaps my -father is the illegitimate offspring of the late Earl--and that this -is the reason wherefore the family honours and estates have devolved -upon the younger brother! And yet--what mean these words?--‘_give you -long life to enjoy that title and fortune which in so short a time -will be beyond the possibility of dispute_!’ Oh! here again is some -dreadful mystery: just heavens! what a fated--doomed family is ours! -Doubt--uncertainty--secrecy characterise all its history:--at least the -experience of the last two days would lead me so to believe!” - -At this moment the young man’s eyes fell upon the roll of paper which -he had taken from the leathern case: and with feverish impatience--yet -still with care, inasmuch as the documents were as fragile with old -age as tinder--he proceeded to examine them. - -And, oh! how deep--how intense suddenly became the interest with which -he now perused the diary and the letters of the unfortunate Octavia -Manners! His excitement was stilled--his impatience was subdued: a -deadly pallor succeeded the hectic flush upon his cheeks;--still and -motionless sate he, his eyes devouring the contents of those important -papers! - -The frightful treachery of Old Death towards his half-sister, the -beautiful but ill-fated Octavia, was revealed step by step;--but there -was likewise an elucidation which touched a chord that thrilled to the -inmost recesses of young Hatfield’s heart,--and this was the fact that -Octavia was wedded by the late Earl of Ellingham previous to the birth -of the child! Yes--there was the marriage-certificate: there, too, was -the certificate of the child’s baptism;--and that child was therefore, -at its very birth, the heir to the proud title and the entailed estates -of a mighty Earldom! - -Here let us pause for a few moments to afford an explanation which now -becomes necessary. - -If the reader will refer to the forty-seventh chapter of this -narrative, he will find recorded so much of the history of poor -Octavia Manners as Arthur himself was acquainted with. In relating -that history to Lady Georgiana Hatfield, Arthur had stated that -Octavia fled away from her vile half-brother’s house the very day -after her disgrace was consummated. “For several months no trace -was discovered of her: it was feared she had committed suicide.” -During that interval the first Countess of Ellingham died. At length -the Earl (Arthur’s father) accidentally discovered that Octavia was -living, and that she was in a way to become a mother. “He hastened to -the miserable garret which she occupied, and found her in the most -abject state of poverty--endeavouring to earn a subsistence with her -needle.” All his affection for her revived, with renewed vigour; and -his heart smote him with remorse for the appalling treachery which he -had perpetrated towards her. He saw her ruined in health, character, -and spirits,--ruined by him,--still surpassingly beautiful, but only a -wreck of what she once was;--he saw all this--and he was horror-struck -at the effects of his crime! He threw himself on his knees--he offered -her every possible reparation which it was in his power to make;--and -then--for the sake of the child which she bore in her bosom--she said, -“If you would prove your contrition, my lord--if you would impart one -single gleam of hope, however faint, to my goal--you will make me your -wife! It is not for myself that I demand this boon at your hands,--for -a boon it becomes when the violater espouses the violated,--yes, a -boon in the estimation of the world, though only an act of justice in -the eyes of God! No--it is not for myself; ’tis for our child! Think -not that I--the sister of the marine-store dealer--shall ever assume -the name or adopt the rank of Countess of Ellingham! Let our union -be secret--only let it take place at once, so that our child may be -legitimate!” Thus spoke Octavia Manners on that occasion; and the Earl -of Ellingham, her violater, consented to all that she asked. They were -married with so much privacy that even Miranda--the faithful gipsy girl -who had formed so strong an attachment to Octavia--remained ignorant -of the important occurrence. But the very next day Octavia fled! No -affection had she for the noble who had ruined her--who had been the -cause of her severance from the object of her first and only love: she -had only asked him to marry her for the sake of the honour of their -child’s parentage--and, the ceremony being performed, she withdrew -herself into the strictest solitude and obscurity, to brood over her -woes and sufferings in secret! - -Such was the substance of that portion of Octavia’s own diary which -revealed to Charles Hatfield the fact that the injured girl was indeed -the Countess of Ellingham when her child was born! And that child’s -career could be traced--yes, satisfactorily traced--step by step, by -means of the papers which the young man had taken from the leathern -case, and the packet of letters that he had likewise found in the -recess;--and it was evident, beyond the least possibility of doubt, -that the individual whom the world had known as Thomas Rainford, and -whom it now knew as Mr. Hatfield,--it was clear, even beyond the -remotest ground of suspicion to the contrary, that this individual was -the rightful Earl of Ellingham! - -Recollect, too, reader, that Charles Hatfield had become firmly -impressed with the belief that he was the _legitimate_ offspring of -his parents;--and now, therefore, conceive the wild enthusiasm of -his delight, when he came to the conclusion that he was in reality a -Viscount by present rank, and had an Earldom in the perspective! - -Forgotten was the fact that had ere now stunned and stupefied him,--the -fact that his father was the notorious highwayman, Thomas Rainford:--he -thought of that no more, in the delirium of his rapture at the idea of -having a noble title within his reach. But had he not, on the previous -day, assured Lady Frances Ellingham that he envied only the greatness -which had made itself, and not that which was obtained by the accident -of birth? Yes: and at the time he conscientiously believed that he -spoke his own thoughts correctly. Now, however, that the temptation -appeared to be within his reach, it possessed charms and attractions of -irresistible power! - -Recalling to mind the sounding titles of the object of his admiration -and heroic worship, he began to fancy that _the Right Honourable -the Earl of Ellingham_ was not comparatively so very insignificant, -even when uttered after the swelling appellations of _His Royal -Highness Field Marshal the Prince of Montoni, Captain-General of the -Castelcicalan Army, and Heir-apparent to the Grand Ducal Throne_. - -Suddenly, as it were, we behold the young man, whose sentiments were -so noble and generous while he deemed himself to be a mere civilian -having every exertion to make in order to rise to eminence,--suddenly -we behold him seized with an insatiable ambition, now that a coronet -appeared to be actually within his reach. - -But did he contemplate the immediate adoption of measures to force -his father to wrest the title and estates of the Earldom from Arthur? -We know not all that passed through the mind of Charles Hatfield on -this fatal night:--we can, however, aver that having fully perused the -valuable documents which had made to him such important revelations, he -did not restore them to the secret recess where he had found them, but -secured them about his own person. - -Previously to quitting the library, he closed the sliding panel, and -replaced the _Annual Register_ in such a manner that the shelf did not -appear to have been disturbed. - -The west-end clocks were striking three, and the light of a July -morning was streaming through the windows of the mansion, when Charles -Hatfield retired to his own chamber. His first care was to consign to -his writing-desk the documents and letters which he now considered to -be the arbiters of his destiny; and, this being performed, he sought -his couch. - -But slumber would not visit his eyes:--myriads of conflicting ideas -were in his brain. He felt that he had to play the hypocrite--to keep -a bridle on his tongue--to control every look, and measure every word, -until the time should come for proclaiming all he knew. For the present -he would not distress his parents by allowing them even to suspect -that the things which they considered to be such profound secrets, -were no longer so to him. No:--he would endeavour to appear the same -gay--frank--confiding--affectionate Charles Hatfield that he hitherto -had been! - -These were amongst the principal reflections which chased sleep from -his pillow until long past four o’clock;--and when at length his -heavy lids were weighed down through sheer exhaustion of the mental -and physical energies, his slumber was agitated with wild and varying -visions, and he awoke unrefreshed, and still suffering with the fatigue -of his long vigil. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXVII. - -THE WANDERERS. - - -The night on which Charles Hatfield made the important discoveries -detailed in the preceding chapter, was marked by other events of a -scarcely less interesting nature. - -It was about eleven o’clock--the weather was intensely warm--and not -a breath of air agitated the foliage on the way-side, as two females -toiled slowly and painfully along the high road between Dartford and -Shooter’s Hill. - -One was a hideous old harridan whose years could not have been less -than sixty-two or sixty-three; and yet, though her form--once tall, -symmetrical, and on a large scale--was bowed with age and sufferings, -she still possessed considerable physical energy. The countenance was -weather-beaten and tanned to such an extreme that, had she been dressed -in male attire, no delicacy nor feminine cast of features would have -betrayed her real sex: her short grizzled locks were confined by an -old kerchief wound round her head in a gipsy fashion;--and her garb -denoted the utmost penury and distress. Not only did she leave upon -the mind the disagreeable impression of revolting ugliness;--but her -look was sinister and repulsive. The wrinkles beneath her eyes and -about her closely compressed lips, bespoke a ferocious and determined -character,--a soul resolute and nerved to every evil purpose;--and the -acute observer might also mark in that countenance traces of those -stormy and impetuous passions which had influenced her earlier years. - -Her companion was a young woman of about nineteen; and though she was -dressed almost as wretchedly as the old harridan, yet how different -was the form which those rags covered! For her figure, though full -even to a maturity beyond her years, was exquisitely modelled,--a -waist not ridiculously small, but still small enough to develop in all -their voluptuous proportions the swelling hips and fine bust. Clothed -in stockings covered with darns, and shod with large clumsy shoes, -were limbs and feet that for symmetry might have been envied by a -queen;--and, as if anxious in the depths of her penury to preserve her -charms as completely as possible, she wore an old pair of gloves upon -her beautifully sculptured hands. Then her face, though sun-burnt was -of a beauty which event an anchorite must have turned to admire,--yet -a beauty of a bold and masculine style, and stamping her rather as a -very handsome than as a very lovely woman. Her features were of the -Roman cast,--the strong facial aquiline denoting a voluptuous and -profoundly sensual disposition;--her fine large grey eyes looked boldly -and wantonly from beneath dark brows majestically arched and almost -meeting between the temples, and above which rose the high, straight, -wide forehead, crowned with intelligence. Her hair was of a dark brown -and singularly luxuriant, glossy, and silken;--and it was evident -that not even the bitter miseries of poverty rendered her indifferent -to the care which that glorious covering required to maintain its -splendour unimpaired. Her mouth was small,--the upper lip thin--the -lower one fuller, but not pouting;--her teeth, the least thing large, -were nevertheless perfectly regular and of pearly whiteness;--and her -chin was prominent, but well rounded. The general expression of her -countenance was indicative of strong passions and fierce desires--great -resolution of purpose--and something approaching even to a resolute -sternness of purpose, amounting almost to implacability. She was not -above the middle height; and her carriage was more commanding than -graceful:--at the same time, it would have struck a beholder that were -she attired in a befitting manner, her gait and gestures would have -been characterised by nothing positively inelegant. - -The reader will perceive that great, in many respects, was the contrast -between the mother and daughter--for in such close relationship did the -two females stand to each other: but in some points there was a marked -resemblance. For instance, the countenances of both indicated strong -passions and indomitable resolution;--both were totally devoid of all -moral principle, though they could simulate the sanctity of anchorites -to suit their purposes or serve their interests;--and both could be -implacable enemies, while friendship was a mere name with them at which -their lips would curl into a sneer. - -In spite of her natural energies and the somewhat substantial remains -of physical strength, the old woman dragged herself slowly and -painfully along the road towards London; while her daughter exhibited -scarcely less evident symptoms of fatigue--approaching almost to total -exhaustion. - -“Perdita,” said the harridan, suddenly breaking a silence that had been -of long duration,--“Perdita,” she repeated, “we cannot reach London -this night: it will be impossible,--I feel it will be impossible.” - -“Then we must lie down by the road-side and perish with hunger,” -answered the young woman, who bore, it seemed, the singular Christian -name of _Perdita_. - -We have above spoken of contrasts and resemblances in respect to these -two females, who are destined to play no unimportant part in the -forthcoming chapters of our narrative;--but we must pause to observe -that it would be impossible to conceive a greater discrepancy in tones -than that which marked the voices of mother and daughter. - -The voice of the old woman was masculine--hoarse--disagreeable--and -grating to the ear; and although she spoke the English language with -the most grammatical punctuality, and there was nothing positively -vulgar in her manner of speech, yet the impression it seemed calculated -to produce upon a stranger was singularly unpleasant. On the other -hand, the whole sphere of harmony has known nothing more melodious than -the voice of Perdita,--a voice which was capable of many modulations, -each characterised by a charm peculiar to itself; for whether she were -speaking in indignation--or in softness,--in outbursting passion--or in -dogged ill-humour,--still were the tones of that voice metallic, rich, -and flowing. - -“The heartless wretches!” exclaimed the old woman, again breaking -an interval of silence,--“to thrust us on shore at Deal with only a -shilling in our pockets!” - -“This is not the least hardship we have ever endured, mother,” said -Perdita, rather in a tone of remonstrance than consolation. “For my -part, I have scarcely ever seen any thing but privation and misery----” - -“You ungrateful wretch!” ejaculated the harridan, furiously. “When -I had but a morsel of bread to give you, did I ever take a portion -for myself! For you, Perdita,” she continued, speaking in a milder -and even more tender tone,--“for you I have gone through sufferings -unknown and unheard of in this country,--for you have I toiled beneath -the scorching South Australian sun of summer, and amidst the noisome -damps of a South Australian winter! Yes--for years and years have I -toiled on--toiled on, that your beauty might not be impaired by want or -privation,--at least that you might endure as little want and privation -as possible.” - -“Well--well,” cried the young woman, somewhat softened by her mother’s -words; “don’t let us look back to the past. We are now in England--and -you say that we are not many miles from London. Good! We will endeavour -to sustain each other’s courage and strength to reach the fine city -where you hope to change our rags into silks and satins, and fill our -empty pockets with gold.” - -“Yes--and you shall see whether I have deceived you, Perdita!” -exclaimed the harridan, in a tone partaking of enthusiasm. “Nearly -nineteen years have elapsed since I last saw the mighty metropolis; -and, unless its people be much changed, there is a fortune to be made -by an experienced woman and a beautiful girl, leagued together.” - -“And you are the experienced woman, mother?” said Perdita, actually -seeking a compliment--for inordinate vanity was amongst her failings. - -“Yes--and you are the beautiful girl--and you know it,” returned the -old harridan. “Being of accord as we are together, it is impossible -that we can fail to accomplish our grand designs. Why was it that I -implored you not to accept the offers of marriage which needy settlers -made you in New South Wales? Because your charms can command thousands -of pounds in London; whereas, in that frightful colony, all you could -have hoped to gain was what is termed ‘_a comfortable position_.’ And -to one possessing your notions--your pride--your strong passions--your -soaring disposition,--aye, and to one endowed with your loveliness -too,--a mere _home_ is not sufficient. You require luxuries--although -you have never yet tasted them,--fine clothes--although you have never -yet worn them,--a splendid equipage, although you have never yet known -the use of one! It was for this that I brought you to England,--it was -for this that I besought you to contract no marriage in the colony,--it -was for this that I conjured you to abstain from any connexion that -might become permanent!” - -“I am well aware of your motives, mother,” said Perdita. “In a word,” -she added, with a strange mixture of pride and irony, “you considered -my beauty to be more marketable in London than in New South Wales. And -after all that you have told me of the English people and England’s -capital, I am inclined to believe that you have not misled me. But -supposing that I contract some splendid marriage in London--that I find -my way into the highest circles--and that I become the _belle_ of the -great city,--will there not be the constant risk--the ever imminent -chance of falling in with the officers of some of those regiments which -have returned from Sydney or Botany Bay----” - -“I see now that you scarcely understand me--that we do not altogether -comprehend each other!” interrupted the old woman, impatiently. “There -is no need for you to count only on the chance of making a good match: -’tis indeed far more probable that you may ensnare some young gentleman -of birth, family, and fortune,--or some old voluptuary of immense -wealth,--and there is more to be gained as the mistress of one of -these, than as a wife. Do not marry, Perdita--do not dream of marriage: -remain independent--and the moment you have ruined one lover, you can -take another. There--that is plain speaking; and now do you comprehend -me?” - -“Perfectly,” answered the young woman: then, under the influence of -the wanton thoughts which rushed to her imagination, she said, “Yes--I -comprehend you, and I confess that your views now become more suitable -to mine. I could not chain myself to one individual, with any hope of -being faithful to him:--_love_ is a passion which will never obtain -over me that influence which it so often exercises over the weak, the -simple-minded, or the infatuated.” - -“Be not too confident on that point, Perdita,” said the old woman. -“In Sydney and Botany Bay your amours were only the result of a warm -temperament;--for carefully as I watched over you----” - -“Now, mother, let us have no moral teachings from your lips!” exclaimed -the young woman, in an imperious and authoritative tone; “for had you -been so very immaculate yourself, I should never have beheld the light -of day, neither would you have passed some eighteen or nineteen years -of your life in a penal colony. And such a colony as it is! Why--let -a pretty girl be hemmed in by all the precautions which a parent -can imagine, circumstances must inevitably lead her astray in South -Australia! And you,--_you_, who know all this so well,--can you wonder -if I were seduced at the early age of thirteen, and if from that period -until your pardon arrived and we embarked to return home, I have not -failed to indulge my fancy without hesitation? On the one side I obeyed -your instructions,--I accepted no offer of marriage, and lived with no -man permanently as his mistress: but, on the other, I hesitated not to -intrigue with the gayest and most dashing officers----” - -“Enough! enough!” ejaculated the mother, who, bad as she herself was, -felt a cold chill come over her at this open, audacious, and unblushing -avowal of her daughter’s depravity,--a depravity that was not however -unknown, either in circumstances or extent, to the old woman. “Give me -your arm, Perdita--assist me to mount this hill,--for I am ready to -drop. There! you are a good girl! Ah! Perdita--I was once young and -beautiful as you are now,--well-formed too, and elegant in carriage! -I was a lady in every sense of the word--as far as outward appearance -and manners went. But now--oh! how altered I am! My toothless mouth -was once filled with pearls as white as yours--my bust was as -voluptuous and as firm--my figure was as upright--my feet and ankles -as delicate--and my step as light! Ah! that was many--many years ago, -Perdita!” - -[Illustration] - -“Shall you not be glad, mother, to visit London again?” demanded the -young woman. - -“Yes--for ’tis the only city in the world where adventuresses like -ourselves--beggars, I may say--are certain to succeed. Oh! you have -no idea of what a pandemonium is the great metropolis of England!” -exclaimed the harridan, with strange emphasis. “’Tis a furnace in which -millions of passions, interests, and ideas are ever boiling--boiling -madly and as if in rage: ’tis a scene of immense iniquity and of -boundless luxury--of wondrous intrigues and ineffable enjoyments.” - -“Oh! how I long to plunge headlong into that fine city!” cried Perdita. -“It is a vortex that will suit my disposition well.” - -“Aye--and play your cards as I shall prompt,” observed her mother; “and -you will speedily be the mistress of all the pleasures which London -can afford. But, oh! I am ready to drop with weariness--I am dying -with hunger and thirst, Perdita: and not a penny have we to purchase a -morsel of bread----” - -“I see a strong light yonder--there, mother--in that bye-lane,” said -the young woman. “Shall we repair in that direction--perhaps it may be -a hospitable cottage----” - -“No: ’tis a gipsy’s encampment--I can distinguish the cart and the -tent,” interrupted the old wretch. “But the gipsy race are good and -generous; and they will not refuse us a morsel of bread and a cup of -water.” - -The two wanderers accordingly proceeded towards the strong light which -Perdita had first discovered, and which proved to be, as her mother -had surmised, the fire of a gipsy encampment situate in a bye-lane. -As they approached, they observed a female form crouching over the -blazing faggots, in spite of the intense sultriness of the weather, and -apparently watching with attention a huge cauldron that was suspended -above the fire in the usual gipsy fashion. When Perdita and her mother -drew nearer still, they obtained a more perfect view of that female, -whose countenance was thrown out in strong relief by the lurid flame; -and they now perceived that she was a very old woman, bent down with -the weight of years, but having nothing in her appearance of that -weird-like character which so generally marks gipsy women of advanced -age. She seemed to be all alone in the encampment at the time;--and her -attitude, which had at first struck the wanderers as being that of a -person watching the culinary process, now assumed a more thoughtful and -serious character. - -“Good dame,” said Perdita, “we are sinking with fatigue and famishing -through want; and we crave your hospitality.” - -“Ah! a woman as old as myself doubtless?” exclaimed the gipsy-crone, -surveying Perdita’s mother with attention. “Come--sit down--you are -welcome--you are welcome! I am all by myself for the present: my people -have gone to a short distance--on business of their own--but _that_ is -of no matter to you. Young woman,” she continued, addressing herself to -Perdita, “you are strong and active: I was once so myself! Ascend into -the cart--you will find wooden bowls and spoons--and help yourselves to -the contents of the pot. There will be enough for my people when they -come back.” - -The old gipsy spoke in so strange--vague--and peculiar a manner that -the wanderers were both impressed with the idea that she must be in -her dotage; and the rapid look of intelligence which passed between -mother and daughter, showed that they had simultaneously entertained -the same idea. Perdita, however, hastened to obey the directions which -she had received; and, returning with the utensils, she and her mother -commenced a hearty meal upon the broth and soddened poultry and meat -which the cauldron contained. - -While the two wanderers were thus employed, the old gipsy began -rocking herself to and fro, and uttering her thoughts aloud. First she -addressed herself to her guests: then, by degrees forgetting their -presence, and becoming more and more enshrouded in the mists of her own -failing mind, she still continued her musings in an audible tone. - -“An old woman and a young one--eh?--then you are doubtless mother -and daughter? Ah! I wish that I had a daughter so comely to look -upon as yourself, my pretty dear;--but I should not like her to be -quite so bold in her demeanour as yourself. You are very lovely: and -yet methinks you are scarcely as virtuous as you are beautiful. Oh! -now the red blood mantles in your cheeks: but do not take offence. -’Twere a sorry deed on my part to offer insult to those who share my -hospitality. Yes--I wish that I had a daughter, who would love me in -my old age. My own people neglect me: they leave me alone--alone--for -many long hours together;--and then I have no other companions but -my own thoughts. And strange companions are they at times, I can -assure you. Let me see--what was I thinking of when you came up? Oh! I -remember now:--yes--I remember now. Fifty years ago--no--it was about -forty-nine, I nursed a male child,--the child of Octavia Manners and -the Earl of Ellingham. I do not mean this present Earl:--no--no--’twas -the late Earl. The child had a peculiar mark on the right arm: ’twas -near the shoulder. Then I was turned away by the dead Octavia’s -half-brother, Benjamin Bones--a horrible man, who knew no pity. But -the child again fell in my way--Egyptia had it in keeping. Ah! I loved -that child--I would have adopted it as my own. For seven years did I -retain the boy with me--the dear boy, whom methinks I see now. But, -the wretches--they sent him away: they lost him in Winchester--cast -him off purposely on the wide world. Oh! how I regretted that dear, -flaxen-headed boy! They told me he was dead--and I mourned for him. -Years and years passed away: heaven only knows how many--I cannot stop -to count them now. But it must have been twenty or twenty-one years -ago that I met the flaxen-haired boy. Boy! no--no--he was a man--a -fine, dashing, jovial, rollicking man;--yes--and, woe is me--a highway -robber!” - -By this time the two wanderers, who had not lost a single word of -all that the gipsy crone was thus uttering aloud in her musings, -became interested in the wild, yet still connected history which she -was relating,--a history that was revealed by the development of her -own thoughts and reminiscences, and which she seemed to experience -a “pleasing pain” in reciting. But it was the elder of the two -listeners--Perdita’s mother--who paid the deepest and most particular -attention to the crone’s audible meditations, and who seemed to -experience a presentiment that they were furnishing a subject which -might be turned to her own and her daughter’s advantage. - -“Yes--yes,” continued the old gipsy, “we met in Hampshire--and -circumstances revealed him to me. The mark on the arm then proved -that it was indeed he! I told him the history of his birth--and he -expressed his intention to visit London and seek to recover from Old -Death--that was the villain Benjamin Bones--the money of which he had -been plundered. Alas! poor Tom Rain--you went to the great city to -meet your doom! You were captured--you were tried--you were cast for -death--and you were hanged on the roof of Horsemonger Lane gaol. Yes--I -saw it all with my own eyes: for I was amidst the crowd--drawn thither -by God alone can tell what strange infatuation! And if in the deep -anguish that rent my heart, there was a single gleam of joy--a single -gleam, however faint--’twas to mark how boldly you died, my brave Tom -Rain! Died--died!” exclaimed the old gipsy, now speaking with thrilling -emphasis: “no--no--you did not die! Methought, however, as did the rest -of the multitude, that you were indeed no more: and for years--for many -years--for nineteen years have I held that same belief. And during -that interval, oft--oft have I thought of thee,--thought of thee as -once I knew thee, Tom Rain--a flaxen-headed boy, and before thou didst -bear that name of Rainford! Yes--I have thought of thee--aye, and wept -bitterly, bitterly. But--am I dreaming--am I becoming crazy?--or is -it indeed true that ten days ago, when in London, I saw thee--yes, -thee--alive and in the full enjoyment of health and wealth? Ah! I -recollect--’twas not a dream: no--no--I saw thee,--and I recognised -thee, too, disguised though thou wert. For not even the hair dyed -black--nor the change effected by time--nor the plain and unassuming -garb,--no--naught could deceive me, Tom Rain, in respect to you! I -beheld you in a carriage, with your half-brother the Earl of Ellingham, -and with a fine young man whose countenance was of glorious beauty.” - -These words suddenly made Perdita as attentive and interested a -listener as her mother, both having by this time finished their hearty -meal. - -“Yes--a young man divinely handsome,” continued the gipsy-crone, -rocking herself to and fro; “with a countenance that would ensnare any -young female heart! And I made enquiries--and I learnt that my Tom Rain -was now Mr. Hatfield, and that this young man was his nephew. Oh! I -know it was Tom Rain: but how came he thus alive?--by what means was -he resuscitated?--who snatched him from the grave? No--no--I am not a -drivelling fool--a dreaming idiot, as my people said: I know full well -that it was he--I could not be mistaken;--and yet, ’tis impossible to -say how he was snatched from death! He is married, too--married to -Lady Georgiana Hatfield, whose name he has taken. And they are now -all dwelling together at the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham in Pall -Mall. I longed to go thither and tell Tom Rain--no, Mr. Hatfield, I -mean--that I had recognised him,--tell him that in me he beheld the -Miranda whom he once knew: but my people laughed at me--they told me -that I was in my dotage--that I was dreaming,--I, who have intellects -as keen as ever--and sight so sharp that I knew my dearly-beloved Tom -Rain in spite of his dyed hair and his changed aspect! Then my people -forced me away with them;--but they cannot prevent me from thinking of -Tom Rain as much and as often as I choose!” - -The gipsy-crone ceased; and now she seemed to become suddenly aware -again that she was not alone. But not reflecting that she had been -speaking aloud the whole time, and that her two guests had overheard -every syllable she had uttered, she turned towards them, making -some remark of a perfectly indifferent character. It was easy to -perceive that the poor old creature was half demented, in spite of -her self-gratulation on the keenness of her intellects: but Perdita’s -mother was sharp and far-seeing enough to know that many important -truths were evidently commingled with the gipsy’s rhapsodical -reminiscences. - -“You have journeyed far to-day?” said Miranda--for such indeed was the -crone’s name. - -“Many miles,” replied Perdita’s mother: “but now that we are refreshed -through your kindness, we shall push more speedily on to London.” - -“Ah! you are taking that pretty child of yours to the great city, which -we gipsies abhor and never visit unless on urgent occasions,” observed -Miranda. “What is your name, young woman?” - -“Perdita,” was the answer. - -“Perdita!” repeated the gipsy. “That is a strange name. We have -singular names amongst our race: but I never before heard so remarkable -a one as that which _you_ bear. What does it mean?” - -“Have names any meaning at all?” demanded Perdita’s mother, in a tone -of impatience. “But, come, daughter--let us thank this good woman, and -be off!” - -The gipsy was however again rocking herself to and fro before the fire, -and seemed to have relapsed into her profound reverie, save that this -time she did not give audible utterance to her musings. She was however -so much absorbed in thought that she did not hear the thanks that were -tendered by the wanderers, nor mark their departure. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXVIII. - -THE JOURNEY CONTINUED AND CONCLUDED. - - -Perdita and her mother exchanged not a word until they reached the high -road once more; but when their faces were again turned towards London, -the latter exclaimed in a tone of chuckling triumph, “’Twas a lucky -chance which threw us in with that gipsy!” - -“Yes, mother--as far as obtaining a good meal was concerned,” replied -Perdita. - -“Silly child! it was the old crone’s talk that elicited the remark -which I just made. Did you not hear the strange facts she suffered to -ooze out in her idiotic musings? Did nothing strike you----” - -“Yes: her description of a young man of such divine beauty made so -strong an impression upon me, that my very veins appeared to run with -lightning,” interrupted Perdita. - -“Ah!” cried her mother, evidently struck by a sudden thought: “you -were pleased with her allusion to that handsome young gentleman? Well, -Perdita--trust me when I declare emphatically that this same young -gentleman shall sue at your feet for those favours which unasked you -would this moment bestow upon him!” - -“Mother, you yourself will soon appear to me to be indulging in -idiotic musings!” cried Perdita, half in delight--half in contemptuous -incredulity. “You never saw this young man--you know nothing of him----” - -“Know nothing of him!” repeated her mother, scornfully. “We know -enough, Perdita, to compel a whole family to implore our forbearance -and our mercy,--to reduce that Mr. Hatfield, Lady Georgiana, and their -nephew to the necessity of beseeching our silence on their bended -knees!” - -“Do you really put faith in the rhodomontade of that gipsy about the -identity of the Mr. Hatfield of whom she spoke with a certain Tom Rain -who had been hanged?” demanded Perdita, impatiently. - -“Yes--because I know it to be true!” ejaculated her mother. “Listen, -Perdita:--you were not born at that time--but it was only a few months -before your birth when the whole metropolis was astounded by the sudden -discovery that Tom Rain, the highwayman, was indeed alive. I was in -London at the time----” - -“In Newgate, mother?” asked her daughter, as coolly as if it were the -most common-place question. - -“Yes--in Newgate, if you must have me be particular in every detail,” -answered the old harridan, bitterly. - -“Where I was born,” remarked Perdita. “One of the first places I shall -request you to show me, will be that same Newgate. But go on--I am -listening attentively.” - -“Well, then--I was in Newgate at the time that all London was astounded -by certain discoveries relative to this same Tom Rainford--all brought -about in consequence of a dreadful murder committed by that very -Benjamin Bones whom you heard the gipsy mention. The story is too -long to tell you now; but you shall have it shortly in its fullest -details--for it may regard our interests more nearly than you at -present imagine. One fact I must however state,--which is that Thomas -Rainford was a famous highwayman who was hanged, and that by some means -which never transpired, he was rescued from death--resuscitated, in -fine. He received the royal pardon for all the deeds he had committed -in opposition to the laws; and what afterwards became of him I knew -not----” - -“Because you had to leave England in pursuance of your sentence, I -suppose, mother?” added Perdita, enquiringly. - -“Precisely so. And now chance throws us in the way of an old crone -who, in the audible musings of dotage, informs us that this same Tom -Rain is actually living under a feigned name--aye, and at the mansion -of the Earl of Ellingham. It is clear that the gipsy had never heard -of the wondrous fact that Rainford appeared in London disguised as a -Blackamoor, only a few months after his execution, as I may call it: it -is evident that the circumstance of his having survived the scaffold -was unknown to her and to her companions. Thus was she struck with -amazement and surprise, as well she might be under such circumstances, -when she beheld him in Lord Ellingham’s carriage. But gipsies go so -little into great cities and towns--hold so little intercourse with any -save their own people--and are so little curious in respect to matters -which do not immediately concern themselves, that it is not surprising -if the old gipsy had never heard reported the well-known fact of -Rainford’s resuscitation.” - -“Then you presume that this Rainford is now living, honourably and -respectably, in London, under the name of Hatfield,” said Perdita, -enquiringly; “and you mean to use your knowledge of his real name to -work out our particular aims?” - -“You now comprehend me, daughter,” returned the old woman; “and you may -perhaps begin to understand how his nephew shall become bound to you by -silken cords.” - -“I have set my mind upon that handsome young man,” said Perdita, -emphatically; “and believe me, I shall omit nothing that will tend to -gratify my passion.” - -“Wanton--voluptuous, even as I was,” muttered the harridan to -herself;--“aye, licentious and depraved as was her father!” - -“What are you mumbling to yourself, mother?” demanded Perdita. -“Something about me, I warrant.” - -“No harm--no harm,” responded the wretch, hastily. “But, to return to -the subject of our conversation, Perdita; what do you think of our -prospects now?--knowing all we do of this Mr. Hatfield, and able as we -are to overwhelm him, his titled wife, and his nephew in disgrace, if -we choose to utter a single word.” - -“I think that all will go well enough in respect to money; for _that_ -we have the means of extorting,” said Perdita. “But I cannot see how, -by such a course, we shall do otherwise than disgust the nephew, and -make an enemy of him.” - -“Ah! short-sighted girl” ejaculated her mother. “We must not commence -with extortion! I know that Lady Georgiana Hatfield was very rich when -I was a resident in London years ago; and it is not probable that she -has become poor since. Then again, this Hatfield or Rainford must be -on intimate terms with the Earl of Ellingham, since he and his family -are residing at that nobleman’s mansion. All this denotes that the -young man can command ample funds at will;--and the young man, then, -must be ensnared by your wiles. But if you surrender yourself to him -immediately----” - -“Trust me for knowing how to play my cards well!” interrupted Perdita, -impatiently. “But on our arrival in London to-night, where are we -to find a dwelling-place?--how are we to clothe ourselves decently -to-morrow?--how, in a word, are we to live until all these grand -schemes begin to work?” - -“You shall see, Perdita,” answered her mother. “During my long sojourn -in Australia, one person in England wrote to me frequently--one person -sent me sums of money occasionally. Otherwise, Perdita, after I -obtained my ticket of leave, we should have starved: for the labour of -my hands, severely as I toiled, produced not sufficient to maintain us -both. This one person lives in London: I know his address;--and to his -door must we first repair before we can even procure the wherewith to -obtain a bed!” - -“Is it the friend who, as you told me, interested himself to procure -your pardon?” demanded Perdita. - -“The friend!--the relation you mean,” said her mother, hastily. -“Yes--he is my relation--the only one I possess in the world save -yourself, if a daughter can be called by that name.” - -The conversation, which may have served to throw additional light upon -the depraved character of these two women, was interrupted by the -necessity of stepping to the side of the road to permit a cart, which -was on the point of overtaking them, to pass. The vehicle was driven -along at a rapid pace by a sturdy, good-natured butcher; and as it was -whisking by the two females, the pure moon-light falling fully on the -handsome countenance of Perdita, enabled the man to catch a glimpse of -the surpassing beauty of that face. - -Instantly pulling up, he said, “Holloa! my good women, you are out -late--or rather early--for ’tis two o’clock in the morning.” - -“We are very tired, and are anxious to reach London as soon as -possible,” replied Perdita’s mother. - -“I am going as one may say right through London,” observed the butcher: -“in fact, to Oxford Street--and if you like to have a ride, both of -you, I’ll put you down at the nearest point to where your business -leads you.” - -The old woman greedily snapped at the offer; and the good-natured -butcher helped her daughter and herself into the cart, which -immediately drove on again at a spanking pace. - -And now full soon did the myriad lights of London greet the eyes of -the travellers; and Perdita felt her heart dilate with ineffable -emotions as she drew near that sovereign city of a thousand towers, -pinnacles, and spires,--that mighty Babylon in which all her hopes, -her aims, her ambitious views were centred. A misty haze of light, -resembling a faintly illuminated fog, appeared to hang over the vast -metropolis;--and as the vehicle approached nearer and nearer still, -the countless dwellings began to stand out in relief from the bosom of -that dimly lustrous shroud. On--on the travellers go: the houses are -scattered along the road;--but in a short time they become continuous -ranges of habitations;--and now it may be airily said that the wheels -of the cart rattle on the pavement of London. - -But a feeling of disappointment seizes upon Perdita: instead of lordly -mansions, she sees dingy-looking tenements of no considerable size, -and presenting any thing but an imposing appearance, especially at -that sombre hour. Nevertheless, the farther she advances the more -satisfied does she become;--and now the travellers reach that great -junction-point for cross-roads, where stands the Elephant and Castle. - -The tap is open--the butcher stops, alights, and disappears inside the -establishment. In a few minutes he returns with a steaming hot glass of -brandy-and-water,--for a good-natured fellow is this butcher;--and he -kindly proffers it to the two females. It was not because Perdita was -so handsome, that he did it: no--it was through pure kindness, and as -much for the sake of her mother as of herself. Nor did the two females -require much pressing to partake of the welcome beverage; and while -they were drinking _their_ glass, their good-hearted friend hurried -back to the tap to enjoy _his own_ reeking jorum. - -And now away they speed again--up the Waterloo Road--over the bridge. -Then and there it was that a splendid and soul-stirring spectacle burst -upon the sight of Perdita:--for an instant her admiration was rivetted -to that magnificent piece of masonry constituting the finest viaduct -of the kind in the whole world;--but in the next she threw her glances -right and left, embracing thus rapidly all the splendid features of a -scene bathed in silver by the cloudless lamp of night. The bosom of the -mighty Thames reflected the lights on the banks and the bridges,--those -very lights tracing the course of the proud stream and marking its -ample width:--then her looks dwelt on the mighty dome of Saint Paul’s, -rearing its colossal head to the deep purple summer sky;--and lastly -they ran rapidly along the northern shore, embracing each point of -interest, until they stopped at the New Houses of Parliament, so -gleamingly white in the chaste lustre of the moon. - -“Yes, mother,” she whispered, in an exulting tone: “this is indeed a -stupendous city!” - -“You have seen nothing of it as yet,” was the reply. “But here we must -alight,” added the old woman, the moment the cart reached the Strand. - -The wanderers accordingly descended; and, having proffered their hearty -thanks to the butcher for his kindness, they continued their journey on -foot, their way now lying in the direction of Brompton. - -Along the Strand they proceeded--through Spring Gardens--into St. -James’s Park,--Perdita admiring the fine buildings which she passed; -for the morning was now breaking, and each grand feature of that part -of the metropolis emerged slowly and majestically from obscurity. - -Perdita’s mother, in pointing out Carlton House to her daughter, -observed, “When I was last in England George the Fourth was King; and -that was his favourite residence.” - -They proceeded through the park;--and now Perdita beheld the abode of -the Queen of England--that palace on which so much of the country’s -money has been shamefully squandered, and with the arrangements of -which her Majesty is still dissatisfied! God help Victoria, if she -cannot contrive to make herself comfortable at Buckingham House; we -sincerely hope that she will always find such quarters gratuitously -provided for her, and that she will learn not to grumble at them. -Contrast that palace with the working-man’s home, and then let us see -whether Parliament would be justified in voting another sixpence to -enlarge or improve the sovereign residence. Oh! how loathsome--how -revolting to our mind are the caprices, the selfishness, and the -insolence of Royalty! - -The two wanderers now entered the spacious district of Pimlico, which -they traversed painfully--for they had become almost as wearied as when -they were toiling on between Dartford and Shooter’s Hill. - -“Shall we soon be there, mother?” enquired Perdita, her handsome -countenance bearing a care-worn expression as if patience and strength -were alike nearly exhausted. - -“In less than twenty minutes now,” was the answer, “we shall reach the -place whither we are bound.” - -“And suppose your nephew should not be in London?” said Perdita. - -“Ah! now you have touched the very chord which vibrates with anguish -to my heart’s core!” exclaimed the old woman. “But let us not yield to -despondency,” she added, almost immediately. - -“No--it is useless to meet evils half way,” observed Perdita. - -The two proceeded in silence for upwards of a quarter of an hour, until -they reached a particular part of Brompton, when the elder wanderer -said, “It must be somewhere about here that he lives. Ah! Number Seven! -Yes--_this_ is the house, Perdita!” she added, indicating a beautiful -cottage-residence, standing alone in the midst of a pleasant garden. -“But it will be useless for you to accompany me,” continued the hag: -“on the contrary, many reasons, which I will hereafter explain, render -it advisable that my nephew should not come to know you by sight.” - -“Just as you please, mother,” said Perdita, in the quiet way which was -habitual to her when she had no inclination either on one side or the -other. “There is a large stone at the angle of the road yonder: I will -rest there until you return.” - -“Do so,” replied the old woman; and, having paused for a few moments to -dwell admiringly on the fine symmetry of her daughter’s form as Perdita -repaired slowly towards the point indicated, the harridan advanced to -the door of the house in which her relation dwelt. - -She knocked and rang;--and in a few minutes a servant-maid, throwing -open a window, enquired who it was that came at such an unseasonable -hour. - -“Is your master at home?” demanded the old woman. - -“He is: but----” - -“Thank God!” ejaculated the visitor, considerably relieved by this -announcement. “You must inform him that an elderly female wishes to -speak to him on particular business----” - -“I cannot venture to disturb him,” answered the servant. “Come at eight -o’clock: master and missus will be up then.” - -At this moment another window was opened, and a gentleman, who had -evidently slipped on a dressing-gown in great haste, appeared at the -casement, exclaiming, “I will see you now--at once!” - -And in less than a minute the old woman was admitted into the dwelling -by the gentleman who had thus addressed her. - -Not a word was uttered,--merely hasty glances of recognition were -exchanged, and those looks dubious on her part and reserved on -his,--until they entered a parlour, the door of which the gentleman -carefully closed, while his visitress sank exhausted upon a sofa. - -“I am returned at last, Clarence,” she said, in a low and hoarse -voice,--for she was now evidently much moved at finding herself in -the presence of her relative, and by no means so confident as she had -appeared to her daughter with regard to the reception she was likely to -experience. - -“Yes--returned, against my express desire--against the solemn promise -that you sent me to remain in the colony if I procured your pardon!” -exclaimed Mr. Villiers--for it was he--in a reproachful tone. - -“Would you have had me bury myself in that horrible place of exile?” -demanded his aunt--Mrs. Torrens, or Mrs. Slingsby, or whatever she now -denominated herself. - -“I would have had you keep your pledge so sacredly given,” replied -Clarence; “and on my side I should have fulfilled my engagement by -remitting you forty pounds every half-year. Why--why have you come back -to England?” - -“Because I would sooner die than remain in a colony where I have -endured so much,” responded the woman. - -“Yes--you have endured much indeed,” said Mr Villiers, still more -bitterly than before: “but it has been your own fault. Do you remember -the interviews I had with you in prison both prior and subsequent -to your condemnation? Did you not exhibit every sign of the deepest -contrition--utter every possible vow of amendment? And what were the -results? Arrived in the colony, you became unruly--profligate--a -perfect scandal where all is scandalous--shameless where every thing is -shameful----” - -“Listen to me, Clarence!” exclaimed his aunt, rising from the sofa and -advancing towards him: “it is so easy to reproach--but not so easy -to admit of extenuation for guilt. As God is my judge, my penitence -in Newgate was sincere--my contrition unfeigned! I even longed for -the hour of my departure to arrive, that I might for ever quit a -country where I had played so vile a part, and to some extent retrieve -my character in a penal colony. But when I set foot on board the -convict-ship, I found myself thrown into the depths of a very sink -of immorality,--plunged into an infernal stew of profligacy, from -which escape was impossible. I threw myself on my knees before the -surgeon, and implored him to remove me from that dreadful assemblage -of fiends in female shape: he laughed at me, and bade me return to -my place. Then my companions abused and ill-treated me for having -dared to complain;--and the babe which I bore in my arms was made the -subject of the bitterest taunts and most cutting gibes. I had named -her _Perdita_--as you well know--that her lost and hopeless condition, -through the infamy of her mother, might ever be retained fresh in -my memory, and that the necessity of toiling hard and honourably -for her might be impressed on my soul even by the warning nature of -that very name. But, oh! those wretches, with whom I was forced to -associate, levelled the most cruel jeers and jests against me on -account of that innocent babe; because she was born in Newgate! And -nothing is so galling--nothing so terribly afflicting--nothing so -poignantly cutting, as to insult a woman through the medium of her -illegitimate, helpless babe! My God! what bitter tears I shed on board -that convict-ship,--tears which seemed to sear my very countenance -as they fell, so scalding were they! Then the frightful scenes which -were enacted in our cabin,--the quarrelling that took place, the -imprecations that accompanied even the simplest remark, the obscene -tales that were told,--oh! it was horrible, horrible. I struggled -against the contamination as mortal being never struggled before:--but -it was like a combat between a drowning person and the fury of a -whelming torrent,--a vain, ineffectual, and useless fight, in which I -felt myself to be completely powerless;--until, in despair, I resigned -myself to the flood that was whirling me along in its triumphant -course;--and I found relief even in drinking of that feculent, fœtid -stream from which there was no escape. Yes--thus was I drawn down into -the whirlpool of immoralities and profligacies on the brink of which -the law placed me:--and if my vows of contrition--my asseverations of -penitence proved so many delusions, you must blame the system to which -I was subjected--and not myself.” - -“And do you mean, then, to inform me that you endeavoured to be -moral, reserved, pious, and tranquil on board the convict-ship--but -that it was impossible to avoid being dragged into the common abyss -of depravity?” demanded Clarence, now speaking in a mild and even -compassionate tone. - -“Most solemnly do I swear that such is the fact!” exclaimed his aunt, -with an emphasis which spoke volumes in favour of her sincerity. - -“Then are you to be pitied, poor woman,” said Clarence; “and the -Government of that day most bear all the blame of your relapse and -subsequent depravity. But where is your daughter Perdita?” - -“She is in the neighbourhood--waiting for me,” was the answer. “I -did not choose to bring her beneath your roof. Indeed, naught save -necessity--necessity the most stern--should have led me hither.” - -“The accounts which I received from a correspondent at Sydney, spoke, -alas! most unfavourably of your daughter,” observed Clarence. “My God! -could you not at least have saved her from entering the paths that lead -to perdition?” - -“Behold, now, how ready you are to blame me!” cried his aunt, in -a voice expressive of vexation. “I was allotted as a servant to a -free-settler in the penal colony; and the man made me his mistress. -There was no compliance on my part in the first instance: ’twas -absolute compulsion. Then I yielded to my fate, seeing that it was -useless to contend against it. I had to work hard all day; and the -moment Perdita was able to run alone, she played in the streets with -the other poor children of Sydney. I could not prevent it--do all I -would to endeavour to keep her in doors. Well, at last I obtained a -ticket of leave, and tried to earn a livelihood by the toil of my -own hands. But to do this, I was compelled to be out all day;--and -then, where was Perdita? Where was she?” almost screamed the woman, -becoming much excited: “why--_lost_--as her name implies;--not -lost as you lose an object and can find it no more,--but lost -_morally_--irretrievably lost! ’Tis true that I imparted to her as -much knowledge as I myself possessed or had leisure to instil into -her--and that to do this I deprived myself of my natural rest. But -how could I teach her virtue?--how could I read the Bible with her? -My story was known throughout the colony;--and Perdita learnt before -even she had intelligence to understand the meaning of the facts, -that she was a bastard--born in Newgate, the great criminal prison of -London--and that her mother was every thing infamous and vile! My God! -circumstances would not allow me to nurture her in moral ways, even if -I had possessed the inclination: but by the time she was old enough -to learn, I had myself become as deeply steeped in profligacy as any -other woman in the colony. Can you wonder, then, that she soon fell -into the ways of vice? Beautiful as she was--and is--she soon attracted -notice;--and your fine English officers--the gentlemen sent out to -protect the colony,--_they_ were the authors of her ruin--and they -encouraged her in a career of infamy. Oh! Clarence, it is a frightful -thing for me to stand before you--you, who are my own nephew--and -have to make such horrible revelations: but you reproach me for my -own wickedness--you would seek to represent me as the cause of my -daughter’s wickedness--and I am forced to explain to you the appalling -nature of the influences acting upon us, and the circumstances -surrounding us. Now--now, I could weep in humiliation;--but an hour -hence, I shall be obdurate and hardened as ever. The world has made me -so.” - -“And now what do you propose to do?” enquired Clarence. “It is -impossible for me even to advise you in the frightful position in which -you are placed, and since you have acted so completely in opposition -to my counsel by returning to England. Pecuniary assistance--_that_ I -can afford you to a limited amount----” - -“Give me fifty guineas, Clarence--and you shall never see me more,” -interrupted his aunt. - -“I will spare you a hundred,” answered the generous-hearted young man; -and quitting the room, he returned in a few minutes, bringing the money -in a bag. “Here,” he said,--“take that, my poor aunt--and may God make -it prosper in your hands. But, oh! suffer not your daughter to continue -in the ways of vice and depravity: remember that she possesses an -immortal soul--and that there is another world in which an account must -be given for the conduct pursued in this.” - -The old woman made no answer; but, clutching the bag eagerly, she -secured it amongst her tattered garments. Then, ashamed of the greedy -impatience which she had manifested, and seeking to avert her nephew’s -attention from the fact by turning the conversation into another -channel, she said, “I hope you continue to enjoy that happiness, -Clarence, which yourself and your excellent Adelais so much deserve!” - -“Thank God! my felicity is as complete as man’s can be in this world,” -was the reply. “Having now for upwards of nineteen years held the good -situation which my kind patron, the Earl of Ellingham, gave me, I -have enjoyed a certain means of existence--have acquired influential -friends--and have been enabled to rear my sons and daughters in a way -which, I hope, will be salutary to them on their entrance into life.” - -“And that man--my husband--have you heard of him lately?” enquired -Villiers’ aunt, in a low tone and hesitating way. - -“Never since the occasion--and that is now nine years ago--when he -wrote to announce the death of poor Rosamond at Geneva. I mentioned -that fact to you in a letter which accompanied one of the remittances I -made to Sydney on your behalf----” - -“And from that time you have received no tidings of my husband?” - -“Not once!” replied Villiers. “Whether he be alive or dead--what has -become of him, I cannot tell you. This uncertainty relative to her -father’s fate is a cause of uneasiness to Adelais:--but every state and -station in life has its annoyances and its sorrows. Poor Rosamond! she -fell into a slow decline shortly after leaving England--and for nearly -ten years did she linger on, wasting away! Adelais and I saw her once -during that period: we visited Switzerland on purpose. Then how deeply -was my wife shocked when she behold the wreck that remained of her once -lovely and blooming sister. But I cannot dwell upon that episode in our -lives----” - -“No--no,” exclaimed Perdita’s mother, now in haste to depart. “I -will not distress you,” she added, with a hypocritical appearance -of sympathy, “by exacting the painful narrative from you. Farewell, -Clarence--farewell.” - -The generous-hearted Villiers proffered his hand to his aunt,--that -aunt who was once so fine a woman, so elegantly dressed, and the -mistress of a splendid mansion,--but who was now hideous to look upon, -clothed in rags, and as yet homeless on the face of the earth! - -For a few instants her heart swelled with profound emotions as she -pressed that hand which was thus kindly extended to her, and tears rose -to the very brims of her eyes, but did not run over. - -Then she hurried away from his presence:--and the moment she set foot -on the threshold of the dwelling--or rather, when its door closed -behind her--she subdued the feelings that had well nigh overpowered -her; and gave all her attention--all her interest--all her thoughts to -the precious bag which she had concealed amongst her garments. - -“Well, mother, I thought you were never coming back!” cried Perdita, -in a reproachful tone: then, perceiving by the old woman’s countenance -that she had good news, she allowed her own to brighten up, as she -hurried to meet her. - -“Perdita--we have now the means----” - -“Of obtaining shelter and a breakfast, I hope?” - -“Of purchasing good clothes--taking fine lodgings----” - -“Oh! then your nephew--or relation of some kind, whatever he may -be--has behaved well!” cried the young woman, overjoyed by this -intelligence. - -“A hundred guineas, Perdita--a hundred guineas in this bag!” exclaimed -her mother, shaking the precious object of her avaricious worship: -then, again concealing it beneath her rags, she said, “But come, -Perdita: let us betake ourselves to another quarter of the town--for I -have promised Clarence Villiers that he shall see my face no more.” - -The old hag and the handsome young woman retraced their way into the -heart of London; and, arriving in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, -they entered an early breakfast-house, where they partook of a copious -meal, to which appetite and good spirits enabled them to do honour. - -The repast being despatched, the elder of the two wanderers had -a few minutes’ whispering conversation with the landlady of the -establishment; the result of which was that a bed-room was speedily -placed at the disposal of the guests, who retired to partake of a few -hours’ most necessary repose. - -It was near mid-day when the mother and daughter rose; and then another -interview with the landlady was shortly followed, in obedience to the -instructions given her, by the arrival of a woman who sold second-hand -female apparel, and who came laden with band-boxes. The contents -thereof were speedily examined; and the wanderers having selected the -articles which seemed most appropriate for their temporary use, the -slop-seller was well paid and dismissed. - -And now Perdita and her parent began to assume each a very different -appearance from that which they had so recently worn. Copious ablutions -and decent clothing made the elder less revoltingly ugly, and the -younger more strikingly beautiful. - -As they thus performed their toilette together, in the little chamber -of the coffee-house, the mother surveyed, with pride and admiration, -the features and form of her daughter,--calculating at the same time -how large a fortune the judicious sale of such loveliness was likely to -amass;--while on her side the young woman stood in superb complacency -before the glass, exercising a thousand little arts to render the -details of her toilette as perfect as circumstances would admit. - -Perdita’s dark brown hair was combed out with the utmost care, and -arranged in simple bands, glossy and massive on either side of her -fine forehead. By chance she had obtained from the second-hand dealer -a gown which precisely fitted her, and which, being very low in the -body, displayed her full and swelling bust to its greatest advantage. -The darned stockings and the clumsy shoes wore superseded by more -fitting articles; and now the robust leg, the slender ancle, and the -long narrow foot were as faultless in proportion as if a sculptor had -modelled them to his own exquisite but voluptuous taste. A neat straw -bonnet and an ample shawl completed her attire;--and now well, but by -no means splendidly nor elegantly dressed, Perdita appeared a creature -so exceedingly handsome, that even her mother was surprised as much as -she was delighted. - -And, as for the old woman herself, she had assumed an air of greater -respectability than at first might have appeared possible--seeing -that her look was sinister and repulsive, and her countenance so -weather-beaten and marred by suffering! - -Forth went the mother and daughter into the streets of London;--and -their first care was to purchase a variety of articles of attire of a -far better kind than that which they had just procured,--likewise a -little jewellery and the necessary _paraphernalia_ of the toilette. The -goods were all sent to the coffee-house where they had hired a chamber; -and a couple of large trunks were the last objects they bought, and -which were despatched to the same place. - -These matters having been accomplished, the old woman conducted her -daughter into the fashionable quarter of Regent Street; and there -Perdita beheld enough to excite her wonder and her admiration. The -magnificent shops--the fine buildings--the splendid equipages--and the -handsomely dressed gentlemen on horseback, all shared her attention in -their turns:--nor was she, an observer, unobserved--for many an old -voluptuary and stripling gallant paused to bestow a second glance upon -the plainly but decently dressed young female whoso countenance was so -strikingly beautiful, and in whose looks there was a subdued wantonness -engendering the most voluptuous sensations. - -To Perdita’s mother how altered did London seem! Here was a street -which she had never seen before--there a street had been pulled down -to make way for some great thoroughfare. Here buildings once familiar -had disappeared: there strange edifices had sprung up! In Regent Street -she looked for the shops at which she had been accustomed to deal long -years before, when she dwelt in the immediate neighbourhood, and when -she was deemed a _saint_: but most of the establishments she sought had -changed their proprietors and their nature,--a grocer’s having become -a book-seller’s, a milliner’s a china warehouse, and so on. She had a -great mind to pass into Burlington Street; but she had not quite the -necessary courage to do _that_--at least for the present. - -Having threaded Regent Street from Oxford Circus to Waterloo Place, the -two women turned into Pall Mall West, along which they proceeded for -a short distance; when the mother suddenly clasped her daughter’s arm -almost violently, exclaiming in a hasty whisper at the same time, “This -is the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham!” - -Scarcely were these words uttered, when the door was opened, and forth -came Charles Hatfield. Passing by the two females without noticing -that he had immediately become the object of their most earnest -attention,--and indeed, without observing them at all, so deeply was he -absorbed in thought,--he moved on at a slow and uncertain pace, as if -he had merely come out to seek the fresh air, and having no particular -destination. - -Yes:--he had indeed become the cynosure of attraction on the part -of the old woman and her daughter,--the former devouring him with -her eyes, in order to read his character and disposition in his -countenance, and assure herself from that physiognomical perusal that -he was fitted for her purpose,--and the latter embracing with a look -of ardent, wanton scrutiny every feature of his fine face and every -proportion of his symmetrical form. - -He passed on:--and for a few minutes the mother and daughter preserved -a deep silence, each occupied with her own thoughts. - -“That young man may be rendered pliant and docile according to our -will,” said the old woman at length. - -“He is beyond all doubt the one whom the gipsy alluded to in such -glowing colours,” observed Perdita, with a voluptuous languor in the -eyes, a flushing of the cheeks, and a slow but deep heaving of the -bosom. - -“And he has something on his mind--that is clear!” added the old woman. - -“Which we will soon make him divulge to us,” said Perdita. “But how do -you intend to proceed in order to form his acquaintance?” - -“Oh! nothing is more easy!” returned her mother. “In the first place we -must take handsome lodgings. I know of a nice, quiet, retired street -in the neighbourhood. Come along, Perdita--we must not waste valuable -time.” - -The two women repaired direct to Suffolk Street, Pall Mall East; and in -the window of a house of handsome appearance they saw a card announcing -furnished apartments to be let. The lodgings were speedily inspected -and hired, the prepayment of a month’s rent immediately ensuring the -good opinion of the landlady and rendering references unnecessary. - -Back to the coffee-house in the vicinity of Covent Garden did the -wanderers hasten; and in a few minutes all their packages and new -purchases were transported to a hackney coach, which was fetched from -the nearest stand. The coffee-house keeper was liberally rewarded, and -a handsome fee was bestowed upon the driver of the vehicle to induce -him to state, in case of being questioned in Suffolk Street, that he -had brought the ladies from some respectable hotel. - -All these matters being arranged, the mother and daughter proceeded in -the hackney-coach to their new lodgings, where they at once took up -their quarters under the imposing name of Mrs. and Miss Fitzhardinge. - -Had the worthy butcher who a few hours previously took pity on the two -ragged, sinking mendicants, and sustained their strength and courage -by means of hot brandy-and-water at the Elephant and Castle,--had he -now beheld Mrs. and Miss Fitzhardinge sitting down, elegantly attired, -at a well spread dinner-table, and at the fashionable time of six -in the evening,--he would not for an instant have supposed that the -way-worn beggars of the morning’s adventure and the ladies of Suffolk -Street, Pall Mall, were identical: or if, by chance, he should have -recognised Perdita’s handsome countenance, he would have thought that -the delusions of enchantment had been practised upon him or her. - -And now we have prepared the way, with due prefatory explanation, for -one of the most striking and remarkable episodes in this narrative--an -episode showing how Perdita’s arts and Perdita’s beauty accomplished -aims which women of less enterprise than herself and her mother would -have deemed impossible. - -Oh! fatal influence--that influence which the depraved and wanton -Perdita wielded by means of her transcendant charms! - -[Illustration] - - - - -CHAPTER CXXIX. - -THE ADVERTISING AGENT. - - -On the day after the one the incidents of which have just been related, -Mr. Bubbleton Styles called, precisely as the clock struck eleven in -the forenoon, upon an advertising agent dwelling in the immediate -vicinity of Cornhill. - -The agent, knowing that Mr. Styles was the registered promoter of a -scheme which had obtained the patronage of the high and mighty Mr. -Podgson, was particularly civil and urbane; and having bowed him into -the private office, and presented him with a chair, he said, “Now, Mr. -Styles, sir--what can I do for you?” - -“I intend to give the newspapers a round of advertisements,” answered -the City gentleman, pulling out his prospectuses. - -“Softly--softly, my dear sir,” exclaimed the agent: “you must be guided -by me in this. If you went to the generality of agents, they would -say, ‘_Oh! advertise by all means in every paper in existence_:’--but I, -Mr. Styles, am a little more conscientious. There are some journals, -in fact, which are perfectly useless as advertising media: it would be -money completely thrown away.” - -“I am much obliged to you for your kindness,” said Mr. Styles. “Of -course we shall advertise in the _Times_.” - -“As a matter of course!” cried the agent. “’Tis the great daily -Leviathan which every body sees, no matter what his politics may be. -The _Morning Chronicle_, too, is a good medium: the _Herald_, _Post_, -and _Advertiser_ must likewise be included;--and it would be folly to -omit the _Sun_, _Globe_, and _Standard_.” - -“Well--and what about the _Daily News_ and the _Express_?” asked Mr. -Styles, apparently astonished that no reference should have been made -to those print. - -“The _Daily News_!” ejaculated the agent, in perfect wonderment: “the -_Express_!” he cried, in horrified amazement. “Excuse me, my dear -friend--but are you mad? have you taken leave of your senses?” - -“I hope not,” responded Mr. Styles, in his usual calm, business-like -manner. “What makes you think so?” - -“What makes me think so!” repeated the agent: “why, the idea that -you should for an instant entertain the notion of advertising in -those contemptible abortions! They are a perfect disgrace to -newspaper literature, sir,” proceeded the agent, who was speaking -conscientiously, and indeed truly. “Did you ever happen to read the -_Daily News_?” - -“I have never seen the paper in my life,” answered Mr. Styles: “I had -only heard of it.” - -“And you are not likely to see it,” returned the agent, “unless you go -into the heart of Wapping or explore the back slums of Whitechapel. No -respectable newsman keeps it: not that newsmen are more particular than -other shop-keepers--but they only keep what they can sell, Mr. Styles. -As for the _Express_, it is a regular cheat of an evening paper--made -up entirely of the articles in the _Daily News_, without even having -the bad grammar and the typographical errors corrected. But both prints -are the most contemptible threepenny things I ever saw in my life; and -one would be inclined to fancy that all the real newspaper talent had -been absorbed by the pre-existing journals, leaving only the meanest -literary scrubs in London to _do_ the _News_ and the _Express_.” - -“And yet I thought that the _News_ had been started under the auspices -of Mr. Charles Dickens--the immortal _Boz_?” said Mr. Styles, -interrogatively. - -“So it was,” replied the advertising agent: “but the name of Charles -Dickens was rather damnatory than useful to a newspaper-speculation. -Every one must admit that _Boz_ is a great novelist--a very great -novelist indeed--the Fielding of his age; but he is totally incapable -of writing for a newspaper. The proprietors of the _News_ made a -tremendous splash with his name; but they only created a quagmire for -themselves to flounder in. When their paper was first coming out, every -body thought it was to do wonders. The _Times_ was to lose half its -subscribers; and the _Chronicle_ was to be ruined altogether. But, -alas! never did so labouring a mountain produce such a contemptible -mouse; and people began to fancy that the wags engaged on _Punch_ had -started the _Daily News_ as a grand parody on the newspaper press. The -leaders were rubbish--the criticisms of new works, mere nonsense--the -dramatic reviews, utter balderdash. It however seems that in the lowest -depths there is a deeper still even with the bathos of journalists; -for when the _News_ tumbled down (which it soon did) to a two-penny -halfpenny print, the rubbish, the nonsense, and the balderdash became -more astounding still. There is a young man named Bilk who does the -‘_moral department_’ of the paper; and he is the most grovelling -ass that ever was created. He undertakes to review a whole batch -of cheap publications in a lump; but what he calls _reviewing_ is -nothing else than _abusing_ the works with an insolence so cool, and -a rashness so indiscriminate that he must be as consummate a coxcomb -as he is an unprincipled ruffian. The _News_ affects a moral tone, and -entrusts its conscience to this half-buffoon--half-barbarian, in the -hope that the lucubrations of the ungrammatical scribe may acquire -for it the reputation of a serious, sober, and sedate journal. The -despicable being to whom I allude is the son of the proprietor of the -_Assinœum_--a paper which Bulwer mauled and exposed so terribly in one -of his admirable novels many years ago. The articles in the _Assinœum_ -may be termed TWADDLE UPON STILTS----” - -“You are really very inveterate in your denunciations of these prints,” -observed Mr. Styles, who having an hour to spare, did not experience -any impatience in listening to the agent’s remarks. - -“Not at all inveterate--only justly indignant,” was the answer. “I am -indignant, because I admire the newspaper press of Great Britain--I -am proud of it--I glory in belonging to the country which possesses -it; and therefore when I see journalism prostituted to the lowest -and meanest purposes--when I behold such despicable abortions as the -_Daily News_ and the _Express_ daring to show themselves in that -sphere where respectability and talent alone existed until those -threepenny things made their appearance,--I am angry--I am disgusted! -Only see how the _News_ has been tinkered and hacked about with the -idea of making it a property. First it was five-pence--then it was -two-pence halfpenny--next it was three-pence;--and yet with all this -derogatory experimentalising, the owners have failed to make it a -property. What a miserable thing does it look, with its beggarly -three columns of advertisements! The _Times_ has as many in a day as -the _News_ has had altogether since its sickly existence began. The -very Parliamentary Reporters engaged upon the _News_ are ashamed of -their connexion with such a scurvy affair; and the doorkeeper of the -Gallery of the House of Commons looks on them with kind commiseration, -knowing how degrading it must be to their feelings to take their places -in the seats allotted to the representatives of that three-penny -hodgepodge. You never see the _News_ quoted from nor alluded to by -its contemporaries. It is not recognised as a member of the newspaper -press. It has tried all imaginable kinds of manœuvres to force itself -into notoriety,--sometimes currying favour with the superior journals, -and at others abusing them; but all to no purpose. Its contemporaries -will _not_ notice it: they will not be bullied nor coaxed into such -condescension. Why--would you believe that the very Editor is heartily -ashamed of his post: but he knows that if he resigned it, he should be -compelled to relapse into the lowest walks of penny-a-lining, whence he -was dragged forth to conduct the _thing_.” - -“How is it possible that such a contemptible journal continues in -existence?” asked Mr. Styles. - -“There! now you puzzle me indeed!” exclaimed the advertising agent. -“The question you have put to me involves one of the greatest mysteries -of London; and I am quite incapable of affording you the solution. Time -will however show: for, in this case, time _must_ clear up all doubt -and uncertainty regarding the matter. For the present, however, take my -advice and refrain from advertising in a paper which is contemptible in -circulation and influence--scurrilous[8] or hypocritical, according to -circumstances, in its literary articles--and wishy-washy in the extreme -in its leaders.” - -“Well, I am excessively obliged to you for this most useful warning,” -observed Mr. Bubbleton Styles. “You have nothing to say against the -_Weekly Dispatch_--the _Sunday Times_--_Bell’s Life in London_----” - -“All good papers!” exclaimed the advertising agent. “But here is a -list of those metropolitan and provincial journals in which I should -recommend you to advertise.” - -“I place myself entirely in your hands,” answered the promoter of the -grandest railway scheme ever devised: and, thrusting his hands into -his breeches pockets, he rattled a little silver and a great many -halfpence, saying, “Shall I give you a hundred or so in advance? or -will you send in the account----” - -“Pray do not think of offering any sum in advance, Mr. Styles--my -dear Mr. Styles!” cried the agent. “It is but a trifle: three -hundred guineas will cover the outlay for this first batch of -advertisements--and I will send in my little account to the secretary -when the Board meets.” - -“Very good,” rejoined the promoter;--and, having come to this excellent -understanding, the two gentlemen parted--Mr. Styles betaking himself to -Garraway’s Coffee-house, where he ate his lunch standing at the bar, -and afterwards returning to his office at Crosby Hall Chambers. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXX. - -PERDITA. - - -A week had elapsed since the arrival of Mrs. and Miss Fitzhardinge in -the great metropolis; and as yet they appeared to be no nearer to an -acquaintanceship with Charles Hatfield than they were on the day when -they first beheld him issue from Lord Ellingham’s mansion;--for that it -was he whom they had seen on the occasion alluded to, the mother had -satisfactorily ascertained. - -Indeed, the old woman had not been idle. Every evening, for a couple of -hours, did she watch in the immediate vicinity of the Earl’s dwelling -to obtain an interview with the young man: but he did not appear to go -out after dusk. - -Mrs. Fitzhardinge accordingly began to think of changing her tactics, -and endeavouring to catch him in the day-time, when fortune at last -favoured her views;--for on the eighth night of her loiterings in Pall -Mall, she had the satisfaction of seeing him sally forth shortly after -nine o’clock. - -Unhesitatingly accosting him, she said, “Mr. Hatfield, will you accord -me your attention for a few moments?” - -The young man turned towards her, and beheld a very ugly, -plainly-attired, old lady: he nevertheless answered her respectfully, -because she had addressed him in a manner denoting genteel breeding. -We should observe, too, that she had purposely assumed a humble -apparel on the occasion of these evening watchings, in order to avoid -the chance of attracting the attention of passers-by or policemen, who -would naturally have wondered to see a handsomely apparelled person -thus loitering about. - -“Certainly, madam,” replied Charles: “I will listen to any thing you -may have to say to me. Will you walk into the house which I have just -left: ’tis the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham.” - -“I know well who lives there, Mr. Hatfield,” answered the old woman; -“and it is precisely because I wish to speak to you alone, that I have -accosted you in the street. Can you pardon such boldness?” - -“If your business with me be of importance, madam,” said Charles, “no -apology can be necessary on your part.” - -“Yes--my business is indeed of importance,” returned Mrs. Fitzhardinge, -with mysterious emphasis. “But I cannot speak to you here----” - -“I have already requested you to accompany me to the house where I am -residing with my relatives and friends,” said Charles, with the least -indication of impatience in his manner. - -“And I have already assured you that I am anxious to converse with you -alone,” responded the old woman, nothing daunted. “Do not mistrust -me, sir--do not suppose that I have accosted you for the purpose of -soliciting any assistance of a pecuniary kind----” - -“Then, madam, what _do_ you require of me?” asked Charles, hastily. - -“Ten minutes’ private conversation--on matters of importance--of deep -importance to yourself!” replied Mrs. Fitzhardinge, as rapidly and as -firmly as the other had spoken: then, before he had time to make any -rejoinder, she added, “For your own sake, Mr. Hatfield--if for no other -consideration--you will accompany me to my own dwelling, which is close -at hand. What! you hesitate? Then continue to cherish the secret grief -which weighs upon your mind----” - -“Ah! what did you say?” ejaculated the young man, starting as if a -chord had been touched so as to vibrate to his very heart’s core. - -“I mean that if you refuse to accompany me, you will repent the loss of -an opportunity to receive revelations nearly concerning yourself, and -which opportunity may not speedily occur again.” - -As Mrs. Fitzhardinge uttered these words, she fixed a strange, -mysterious, and almost ominous look upon Charles Hatfield, who was -bewildered and amazed by her language. The old woman had dealt her -random shots with good effect; and she experienced an inward triumph at -her skill, and a sure conviction of its success. - -“Who are you? and what do you know of me?” demanded Charles, breaking -silence abruptly after more than a minute’s pause, and speaking in a -tone of earnestness denoting mingled suspense, wonder, and curiosity. - -“My name is Fitzhardinge,” replied the old woman; “and I know -all--every thing concerning you,--aye, much more than you can possibly -suspect. But not another word of explanation will I utter here; and you -may now decide whether you will at once accompany me----” - -“I _will_ accompany you, madam,” interrupted Charles Hatfield, in a -decided manner. “In which direction does your abode lie?” - -“Five minutes will take us thither,” was the answer. - -The old woman and the young gentleman now proceeded in silence towards -Suffolk Street, Pall Mall--the latter wondering who his companion might -be, what she could possibly have to communicate to him, and how she -had acquired the information which she alleged to be so important and -was about to impart. He naturally associated the promised revelations -with the mysterious circumstances which he had so recently fathomed -by means of the letters and manuscripts found in the secret recess of -the library at Lord Ellingham’s mansion;--and yet he was at a loss to -conceive how a Mrs. Fitzhardinge, whose name was entirely strange to -him, could possibly have any connexion with his own family affairs. -At one moment he fancied that the proceeding on her part was nothing -more nor less than a plot to inveigle him to some den for predatory -purposes: for he had heard that London abounded in such horrible -places, and also in persons who adopted every kind of stratagem to -lure the unwary into those fatal snares. But when he considered the -quarter of the great metropolis in which his companion evidently -resided, as she had assured him that her abode was only a few minutes’ -walk from the spot where she had first accosted him,--when he again -noticed the respectability of her appearance, and reflected that there -was something superior in her manners, language, and address,--and -lastly, when he remembered that amidst circumstances so complicated -and mysterious as those which regarded his own family, it was highly -possible for that aged female to be interested in them in some way or -another,--he blamed himself for his misgivings, and resolved to see the -end of the adventure. - -Scarcely was his mind thus made up, when Mrs. Fitzhardinge turned -into Suffolk Street; and in less than another minute, she knocked in -an authoritative manner at the door of a handsome house. The summons -was instantaneously responded to by a respectable female-servant; and -Charles Hatfield followed the old lady up a wide stair-case lighted -by a lamp which a statue in a niche held in its hand. On reaching the -first landing, Mrs. Fitzhardinge threw open a door, saying, “Walk into -this room, Mr. Hatfield: I will join you in a few moments.” - -Charles entered--and the door immediately closed behind him. - -The young man found himself in a well-furnished apartment, in which -the light of the wax candles placed upon the mantel was reflected in a -handsome mirror. The atmosphere was rendered perfumed and refreshing by -vases of fresh flowers tastefully disposed around: and on a side-table -stood a large globe filled with the clearest water, in which gold and -silver fish were disporting. The curtains were closed over the windows; -but still the room was cool and the air grateful in that sultry summer -season. - -These observations were made at a rapid glance;--and then Charles -Hatfield’s looks were concentrated in the cynosure which instantly -absorbed all interest--all attention. For, half sitting, half reclining -upon the sofa, was a being of such transcendant beauty that never in -the wildest of his dreams had he conceived the like. When reading a -novel or a poem, his imagination had often depicted to itself the -semblance of the heroine--and this mental portraiture was invariably -drawn with the utmost perfection of form and feature which impassioned -and enthusiastic youth could devise. But no flight--no soaring of that -fervid imagination had ever yet idealised such dazzling, brilliant -charms as those which now met his astonished gaze,--charms that -intoxicated while they delighted, and that ravished while they infused -a warm voluptuousness into the soul of the beholder. - -And, in sooth, well might Charles Hatfield experience ineffable -feelings and tender emotions as he contemplated the fiend in an angel’s -shape that was half reclining on the sofa; for Perdita was surpassingly -lovely on this occasion! She was attired in a light pink muslin dress, -made very low in the body, so that her neck and shoulders were set -off in all their dazzling whiteness against the deep purple velvet -of the sofa--and her full, swelling, firm bosom was more than half -revealed. Her hair was arranged in long ringlets, glittering like -hyperions, luxuriant, and sweeping those glowing globes that appeared -to heave to their caresses. Her large grey eyes beamed with voluptuous -languor, although a brilliant light shone in the depths of the dark -pupils;--and her vermilion lips, parted with a smile, displayed the -white and even rows of pearls, so faultless in their beauty. The -slightly sun-burnt tinge of her face appeared to be the rich hue of -an Italian complexion--the carnation glow of health, and youth, and -warm blood animating her cheeks. Then her arms were naked,--those arms -which were dazzlingly white, robust, and yet admirably modelled, and -which seemed ready to stretch out and clasp a favoured lover to the -panting breast. One foot was raised on the sofa--the other rested on -an ottoman;--and thus, as Charles Hatfield’s eyes swept the rich and -fine proportions--the undulating contours of that splendid form, it -seemed to him as if a halo of voluptuousness surrounded this enchanting -being--a very perfume of beauty enveloped her in its intoxicating -influence. - -She had heard him ascending the stairs--and she had purposely placed -herself in an attitude which should seem as if he had disturbed -her unexpectedly, and thus serve as an apology for the negligent -abandonment of limb which gave to her position an air alike wanton -and lascivious. While she, therefore, affected to gaze on him in -soft surprise, he was intently devouring her with looks of unfeigned -amazement;--and while she still retained that voluptuous attitude as -if unwittingly, he was rivetted to the spot near the door where he had -stopped short on first catching sight of her. This dumb-show on the -part of both,--artificial with her, and real with him,--lasted for -nearly a minute;--and during that time Perdita had an opportunity of -surveying the young man’s handsome appearance with even more searching -scrutiny than when she had seen him in Pall Mall the very day of her -arrival in London,--while, on his side, Charles Hatfield had leisure -to scan a combination of charms such as transcended all his ideal -creations, and which, had he beheld them in a picture, he would have -declared to be impossible of realization. - -Again must we observe how different was this elegantly-attired, -captivating creature as she now appeared, from the ragged, way-worn -wanderer that she was when first we introduced her to our readers! But -oh! dangerous--trebly dangerous Perdita,--a snake with the loveliest -skin--a demon with the most heavenly form--utter profligacy in the most -witching guise! - -And now the young man, who has been brought within the sphere of this -perilous influence, recovers his self-possession so far as to be able -to stammer forth an apology for what he conceives to be an intrusion -occasioned by some strange mistake. - -“No excuse is necessary, sir,” replies Perdita; “The lady whom you -state to have conducted you hither, is my mother; and she has doubtless -sought her chamber for a few minutes to change her attire. Pray be -seated.” - -But Charles Hatfield once more stood still--rivetted to the spot, -after having advanced a few paces towards Perdita;--for the sound of -her voice, so sweetly musical--so enchantingly harmonious, appeared to -inspire him with ecstatic emotions and infuse an ineffable delight into -his very soul. - -Then Perdita arose from the sofa, and indicating a chair close by, -again invited the young man to be seated,--accomplishing this courtesy -with so ravishing a grace and such a charming smile, that he felt -himself intoxicated--bewildered--enchanted by the magic of her beauty, -the melody of her silver tones, and the soft persuasion of her manner. -For the consciousness of almost superhuman beauty had rendered Perdita -emulative of every art and taught her to study every movement which -might invest her with a winning way and a witching power;--and thus -this singular young woman had acquired a politeness so complete that it -seemed intuitive, and a polish so refined that it appeared to have been -gained by long and unvaried association with the highest classes. - -Sinking into the chair thus gracefully offered him, Charles Hatfield -could not take his eyes off the magnificent creature who remained -standing for a few seconds after he was seated; for, affecting to alter -the position of one of the wax candles on the mantel, as if it were too -near the mirror, she placed herself in such an attitude that the young -man might obtain a perfect view of the flowing outlines of her glorious -form,--the splendid arching of the swan-like neck--the luxurious -fulness of the bust--the tapering slenderness of the waist--the -plump and rounded arms--the large, projecting hips--and the finely -proportioned feet and ankles. - -The effect thus produced by the artful, designing creature, whose -voluptuous position seemed all natural and all unstudied, was precisely -that which she had intended;--for Charles Hatfield experienced a -delirium of emotions till then unknown--and he felt that he could -almost spring from his seat, catch that bewitching form in his -arms, and, covering her with kisses, exclaim, “Pardon me--but I am -mad--intoxicated--raving with passion!” - -“My mother will not be many minutes, sir,” said Perdita, now returning -to her seat upon the sofa; “and in the meantime I must solicit you to -exercise your patience--for I am afraid you will find me but a dull -companion.” - -“Impossible!” cried Charles, enthusiastically; then fearing that he had -spoken in too decided and earnest a manner to one who was a perfect -stranger, he added in a more subdued and reserved tone, “But perhaps -I am intruding on your privacy, as I am afraid that when I entered--I -mean, I fear that I--I disturbed you----” - -“I certainly was not aware that my mother expected a visitor this -evening,” answered Perdita; “and it is I who should apologise, inasmuch -as you caught me in such a lounging, lazy attitude. But since I have -been in London I have experienced a heaviness in the atmosphere that -engenders indolence--for I have hitherto been accustomed to the -country.” - -“Then you have not long resided in London, Miss Fitzhardinge?” said -Charles, hazarding this mode of address with the determination of -ascertaining whether the beautiful young woman were married or single. - -“We have only been in this city for one week,” she replied in an -acquiescent way which convinced him that she had not changed the -parental name by means of wedlock--a discovery that infused a secret -glow of pleasure into his very soul, though at the same instant his -heart smote him as if he were already playing a treacherous part in -respect to Lady Frances Ellingham. “No,” continued Perdita, “we have -not long resided in London. Urgent affairs have compelled my mother -to visit the capital; and as our stay is likely to be of considerable -duration, we are about to take a house. For my part, I am not sorry -that we are thus to settle in London: for, in spite of its oppressive -atmosphere, its smoke, and its noise, it has many attractions.” - -“You have already seen enough, then, to induce you to prefer London to -the country, Miss Fitzhardinge?” said Charles, now admiring the fine -aquiline profile of which he was suffered to obtain a perfect view, as -Perdita half averted her looks on purpose, though quite in a natural -manner. - -“I have seen enough to render me an enthusiastic admirer of your great -city,” she replied, now turning her full countenance upon him, and -smiling so as to display her brilliant teeth: “but I am anxious to -behold more, and my wish cannot very readily be gratified. For, save -our attorney, we have no acquaintances--no friends in London: we are -perfect strangers here--and we cannot very well ask our solicitor to -escort us to the theatre and to those places of amusement which ladies -would hardly choose to visit unless accompanied and protected by a -gentleman.” - -“Is it possible that _you_, Miss Fitzhardinge, should have to -experience the want of such a _chaperon_?” demanded Charles Hatfield, -again hurried by his enthusiasm into language too little reserved and -distant for a perfect stranger to address to a young lady:--at least, -so he thought and feared immediately after he had made the observation. - -“It is very possible,” replied Perdita, in a mild and almost plaintive -tone. “In the country we had numerous friends; but here----” - -And the artful creature, stopping short, stooped down to pick up her -handkerchief as if to apply it to her eyes:--at the same instant -Charles, obeying the impulse of polite attention, bent down also to -save the lady the trouble and perform the little act of courtesy, when -their hair--their very cheeks came in contact,--accidentally as the -confused and bewildered Charles imagined, but intentionally on the part -of the wanton and astute Perdita. - -And that contact--Oh! it was thrilling in the extreme; and Charles -Hatfield felt as if his veins ran with liquid fire;--for the perfume -exhaled from the lady’s hair--the velvety feeling of the luxuriant -curls--the softness and the warmth of her carnation cheek--and then the -view which he could not possibly avoid for a moment obtaining of the -glowing breast which her stooping posture completely revealed,--all -this was sufficient to madden him with passion and excite him to a -degree when all self-command becomes nearly impossible. But he still -possessed a sufficiency of mental energy to controul himself; and, -stammering forth an awkward apology, he hurriedly observed, “Would you -not think me too bold, Miss Fitzhardinge, I should be proud to offer my -services as a _chaperon_ to yourself--and your mother,” he added for -decency’s sake. - -The instant this offer was made,--made without the least forethought -and in the confusion of the young man’s mind arising from the incidents -just related,--he repented of his rashness: he would have given worlds -to be able to recall the proposal. For, in a moment to his mind flashed -the image of the lovely Lady Frances Ellingham--the reflection that -he was offering his attentions to a young person totally unknown to -him--the remembrance that he had many matters of importance to occupy -his leisure--and the general impression that he had committed himself -in a most singularly foolish and inconsiderate manner. - -Perdita saw what was passing in his mind: at least, she perceived that -he repented of the proposal which he had so precipitately made, and -which it had rejoiced her so much to receive;--and she resolved to -conquer his scruples--overcome his repugnance--and confirm him in the -act of vassalage to which her transcendent charms and her wanton arts -had already prompted him. - -Laying her soft warm hand upon his, and approaching her countenance so -near to his own that her fragrant breath fanned his cheek, she said, -in a tone apparently of deep emotion, “Mr. Hatfield, this proposal is -so generous--so kind--so unexpected, that I know not how to answer you -otherwise than by expressing my sincere gratitude. And yet--so frankly -have you made the offer, that it would be a miserable affectation on -my part to hesitate or to appear leas candid and open in accepting -it. I _do_ therefore accept it, my dear sir--and with renewed thanks. -And think not that in constituting yourself the friend--for in such a -light must I henceforth consider you--of Miss Fitzhardinge, you are -doing aught derogatory to yourself. No: for my mother is descended from -an old and illustrious family,--a family which has enumerated amongst -its members personages of rank, eminence, and renown;--and should -the Chancery suit which she has come to London to prosecute, result -favourably to her, she will recover an enormous fortune that has been -accumulating for years through remaining in a dormant state.” - -While Perdita was delivering this tissue of falsehoods with an air of -the most profound sincerity, she still kept her hand upon that of the -young man--still retained her countenance near his own--and likewise -fixed upon him looks at once languishing, tender, and voluptuous. - -Again did he lose all power of sober reflection and, completely -yielding to the influence which the syren had in so short a time -gained over him, he said, “I shall be proud and delighted to act as -your escort, Miss Fitzhardinge. But you just now addressed me by my -name--and yet I thought you were unprepared for my presence here this -evening.” - -“I was well aware that my mother wished to see you on particular -business,” said Perdita, having a ready reply for every question that -might be put to her; “and therefore when I saw you enter the room, I -concluded that you must be Mr. Charles Hatfield.” - -“And are you acquainted with the nature of the business concerning -which Mrs. Fitzhardinge desired to speak with me?” inquired the young -man, wondering why the old lady did not make her appearance. - -“Yes--I am well informed on that subject,” returned Perdita; “but -pray do not ask me to talk to you on business! I detest the very -name! And now perhaps you will consider me a silly--flighty--volatile -creature----” - -“I consider you to be an angel of beauty!” exclaimed Charles, unable -to restrain the raptures which hurried him on to this impassioned -ejaculation. - -“I was told before I came to London that the gentlemen of the great -metropolis were very fond of paying silly young ladies vain and empty -compliments,” said Perdita, looking with good-humoured archness at her -companion, while her eyes beamed with wickedness and her bosom heaved -visibly. - -“Is it the first time that you have been assured of your beauty?” asked -Charles, still carried away by an uncontroullable influence. - -“No--not precisely the first,” responded Perdita, with a _naiveté_ -so admirably assumed that her companion believed it to be completely -genuine. “There was a young gentleman--or rather a nobleman, but I must -not mention his name--in the country, who offered me his hand;--and he -paid me many very fine compliments.” - -“And you accepted the proposal? you are engaged to him?” exclaimed -Charles, with a strange fluttering of the heart. - -“Neither the one nor the other,” answered Perdita. “I could not love -him--and therefore I declined the honour. My mother was angry with me, -and talked a great deal about the excellence of the match and so forth: -but I was obstinate--yes, very obstinate, Mr. Hatfield,” she said -archly; “for never--never,” she continued, her tone suddenly becoming -earnest and her manner serious,--“never could I bestow my hand where I -cannot likewise give my heart!” - -“And you have resolved wisely, Miss Fitzhardinge!” exclaimed Charles. -“Matrimony without sincere affection can afford no promise of -happiness. But one so beautiful as yourself--impressed too with such -sterling sentiments and harbouring such pure principles--oh, you will -prove indeed a treasure to the man who is fortunate enough to secure -your heart and hand!” - -“Again you compliment me, Mr. Hatfield,” said Perdita, looking -down and blushing,--for even her very blushes she could command at -pleasure. “In reference, however, to the observation you have just -made, I should remark that I have never yet met with one of your sex -whom I could comprehend fully and who could understand me. I admire -openness, candour and sincerity,--that generous frankness, too, which -at once establishes friendship and dissipates cold formality. For I -believe that the trammels of ceremonial politeness positively spoil the -heart,--tutoring it to curb its enthusiasm where enthusiasm would be so -natural! I know not how to express myself clearly; but what I mean to -imply is this--that I am a believer in the possibility of friendship at -first sight----” - -“And of love at first sight also?” exclaimed Charles Hatfleld, in an -impassioned tone. - -“Yes--and of love at first sight also,” repeated Perdita, again hanging -down her head--again commanding a deep blush--and likewise speaking in -a low, melting tone of deep emotion, as she drew a long sigh. - -“Was it that possibility of experiencing the feeling of friendship at -first sight, which led you to accept my proposed services as an escort -to the places of public amusement?” enquired Charles. - -“Wherefore do you seek thus to probe the secret feelings of my soul?” -asked Perdita, turning upon him a look indicative of mingled pleasure -and amazement. - -“Have I offended you by the question, charming lady?” exclaimed Charles. - -“Oh! I do not so readily take offence, Mr. Hatfield,” cried Perdita. -“But--frank, candid, and ingenuous though I believe myself to be--I -still have my little feelings of pride, and I could not think of making -an avowal to a gentleman otherwise than as a reciprocity.” - -“Then were I to declare sincerely and solemnly--and on my honour as a -man--that it was a sentiment of friendship, experienced at first sight -and according to your own doctrine, which prompted me to offer my -services as a _chaperon_,” said Charles, hastily and enthusiastically, -“would you deign to answer my question?” - -“Such a declaration on your part, sir, would necessarily elicit--nay, -demand some kind of a response on mine,” returned the artful beauty, -looking down, and tapping the carpet with her foot in such a manner -that her ankle peeped from beneath her dress, and the young man’s eyes -could catch a glimpse of the exquisitely white skin through the net -work of the dainty silk stocking. - -Charles hesitated: an avowal of friendship trembled on his tongue--but -he thought how dangerous such a confession would be--he thought, too, -of Lady Frances Ellingham! - -And Perdita again perceived that he hesitated; and instantly had -recourse to a new artifice to display her charms to their utmost -advantage. Stooping down, she affected to arrange the ottoman in the -most convenient manner for her feet;--but, in this attitude which -seemed so natural, ingenuous, and artless, she revealed so much of -the treasures of her bosom that no room was left for imaginings--and -Charles Hatfield felt himself seized with a delirium in which he would -have made over his soul to Satan had such been the price demanded for -the possession of Perdita. - -“Miss Fitzhardinge,” he said, his voice almost subdued and his tongue -parched through the maddening fierceness of passion, “on my honour as -a gentleman, I swear that the offer I ere now made you was dictated -by a feeling of friendship! Yes--of a friendship that sprang up in my -soul in a single instant--that took birth in a moment--a friendship -that prompted me to declare how proud and delighted I should be to act -as your escort! For I am candid, frank, and ingenuous as I perceive -_you_ to be,--and I will give you another proof of the existence of -these qualities in respect to myself--even at the risk of offending -you. From the first moment that I set foot in this room until now, I -have experienced emotions such as I never felt before. In my delirium -I apostrophised you as an angel of beauty;--and an angel of beauty -must you indeed be to exercise such prompt--such speedy--such witching -influence as that which has enthralled me. For it appears as if there -were a spell upon me--an enchantment, from which there is no escape. -Sweet lady, pardon me for having spoken thus frankly----” - -“I again assure you that I do not very readily take offence,” answered -Perdita: then, laying her hand upon his--for the designing woman sought -to excite him almost to madness--and again approaching her countenance -so near his own that he could look into the depth of her large, wanton -eyes,--she said, “You have made a certain avowal, and you have a -right to expect a candid and unreserved reply from me. Then learn, -Mr. Hatfield, that never should I have accepted your services as a -_chaperon_--never should we have talked thus familiarly--never would -you have been suffered to read so much of my disposition as within the -last hour you have learnt--had not I likewise experienced a feeling of -friendship at first sight for you!” - -“Oh! my God--this is happiness so unhoped--so unlooked for--so -unexpected, that I am bewildered-dazzled--amazed!” murmured the young -man, a mist obscuring his brain--and yet a glorious, lustrous, golden -mist through which he seemed to catch glimpses of paradise. “Friendship -did you say, charming lady? Yet is not friendship a dangerous word for -lips like ours to breathe--and a dangerous sentiment for hearts like -ours to feel?” - -“You speak as if you were under an apprehension that you are doing -wrong?” said Perdita, in a tone of soft reproach. “Oh! is this -candour and frankness? If you regret that you have pledged me your -friendship--for such I augur of your words--I release you, Mr. -Hatfield, from the bond: nay--I should be too proud to ask you to -adhere to it!” - -And now the young man beheld the fascinating woman in a new phasis -of her charms;--for, with that ready versatility of aspect and -demeanour which she had so completely at her command, she suddenly -invested herself with all the majesty of sublime haughtiness;--no -longer melting, tender, wanton, and voluptuous as Venus--but terrible, -domineering, superb, and imperious as Juno,--no longer wearing the -cestus of the Goddess of Love--but grasping, as the Queen of Heaven, -the thunders of Olympian Jove. - -Her eyes flashed fire--her cheeks flushed--her nostrils dilated--her -lip curled--her neck arched proudly rather than gracefully--her bosom -heaved as if it would burst the low corsage which only half restrained -it--and her very form seemed to draw itself up into a height, which, -even as she sate and of middling stature as she was, appeared colossal -at that moment to the astounded gaze of the young man. - -Never was artifice more successful--never was triumph more complete, -on one side;--never was defeat more signal--never was humiliation more -contrite, on the other. For, overwhelmed as it were by the sovereign -majesty of that anger which he believed himself to have provoked, -Charles Hatfield fell upon his knees before the haughty beauty, and -seizing both her hands in his, he extravagantly devoured them with -kisses, exclaiming, “Pardon--pardon!” - -“Yes--yes: it is as frankly accorded as sincerely demanded!” exclaimed -Perdita, not offering to withdraw her hands from the lips which were -now glued to them: and in an instant her whole manner and appearance -changed again--and when Charles Hatfield ventured to look up into the -syren’s face, he saw her bending over him with cheeks flushed it is -true, but not by anger--and with eyes that seemed to swim in wanton, -liquid languor. - -Rising from his suppliant posture, and now taking a seat by the side -of Perdita on the sofa,--relinquishing her hands at the same time, -for fear of giving offence by retaining them,--the infatuated young -man, drunk with passion, said in a low murmuring tone, “We have not -been acquainted more than one hour, and we have exchanged vows of -friendship--is it not so?” - -“Yes--if you do not repent now, and never will repent of that pledge on -your part,” answered the dangerous young woman, who thus conducted her -designing machinations with such consummate skill. - -“No--never, never!” cried Hatfield. “And now we know each other as well -as if we had been intimate since our infancy! To you, then, henceforth -I am _Charles_; and you are to me----” - -“_Perdita_,” said she. - -“Oh! beautiful--singular--and yet ominous name!” exclaimed the young -gentleman. “Yes--you are my friend--my dear friend Perdita! And now, -Perdita, I will avail myself of this romantic yet not the less sincere -friendship that is established between us, to ask you what caprice or -fancy gave you so remarkable a Christian name?” - -“Because in my infancy--shortly after my birth, and before I was -baptised--I was lost,--or rather stolen by gipsies,” answered Perdita, -investing herself and her history with as much of the charm of -mysticism as possible: “and when I was recovered from the kidnappers by -my parents, they christened me Perdita--or THE LOST ONE.” - -“Every thing connected with you seems to be imbued with deep and -enthralling interest, my dear friend,” said Charles: “a supernatural -halo appears to surround you! Your beauty is of a nature so superior -to aught of female loveliness that I ever before beheld--your voice -has something so indescribably melting and musical that it awakens -echoes in the inmost recesses of the soul--your history is strange, -wild, and impressive in its very commencement--your disposition -is characterised by a frankness and candour so generous that it -inspires and reciprocates profound friendship the instant it meets a -kindred spirit--and then there is about you a something so witching, -so captivating, so enchanting, that the best and most virtuous of -men would lose all sense of duty, did you--sweet syren that you -are--undertake to lead them astray.” - -“If I have indeed found a kindred spirit in you, Charles,” said -Perdita, taking his hand and pressing it as if in grateful and innocent -rapture to her heaving bosom--an act which only tended to inflame the -young man almost to madness,--“I shall have gained that which I have -long sought, and never yet found. For my heart has hitherto been as -complete a stranger to a sincere friendship as to love! When I spoke -ere now of our friends in the country, I meant those acquaintances whom -custom denominates by the other title.” - -“Perdita--my friend Perdita, the amity that we have pledged each other -shall be eternal!” exclaimed Charles, in an impassioned tone. - -“And you will return to visit me to-morrow?” said the young woman, her -fine grey eyes beaming with an unsettled lustre, as if the mingled -voluptuousness of day and night met in those splendid, eloquent orbs. - -“Yes--oh! yes!” cried Charles, as if it were unnecessary to have asked -the question. “And now I shall leave you, Perdita: I shall depart to -feast my imagination on the pleasures of this interview.” - -Thus speaking, the young man pressed Perdita’s hand to his lips, and -hurried from the room, intoxicated with a delirium of bliss, and -scarcely conscious of where he was or whither he was going. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXI. - -THE SYREN’S ARTS AND CHARMS. - - -On gaining the street, Charles Hatfield hurried along like one -demented,--positively reeling with the influence which Perdita’s -charms, allurements, and arts had shed upon him,--and feeling within -his soul a glow of such ineffable happiness that he appeared to have -been snatched from the world and wafted to Elysium. Had he just -quitted a banquet where his head had been pillowed on the bosom of -beauty, and the fair hands of the charmer had held to his lips brimming -goblets of champagne of which he had drunk deeply, he would not have -experienced a more extraordinary degree of excitement, nor such -felicitous sensations. - -[Illustration] - -But the moment of reaction came; and though the revulsion was slow, yet -it was powerful--and even painful. - -He had found his way into Saint James’s Park; and hurrying to the most -secluded quarter, he was still giving rein to the luxuriousness of his -thoughts, when it suddenly flashed to his mind that he had not received -from the lips of Mrs. Fitzhardinge the important communications which -she had promised him. Indeed, he had not seen her again from the moment -when she showed him into the drawing-room where he had found the lovely -creature to whom his friendship--his eternal friendship was so solemnly -plighted. - -Striking his repeater,--for obscurity reigned in that portion of the -park where he now was, and he could not see the position of the hands -of his watch,--he was amazed to discover that his interview with -Perdita had lasted two hours. - -Two hours!--and it scarcely seemed to have occupied ten minutes! - -But now his reasoning faculties returned;--and he began to ask himself -innumerable questions. - -“Wherefore was I conducted to that house? was it really to receive -important revelations from the mother? or only to be thrown into -the way of the daughter? Why did not the mother make her appearance -once during those two hours which I passed with the daughter? Was it -a stratagem devised by designing women to ensnare me? or was Mrs. -Fitzhardinge unexpectedly prevented from joining us so soon as she -had intended? My God! I am bewildered--I know not what to think! For -if they be women of evil repute and having sinister aims in view, -Perdita would not have given me to understand that they are at ease -in their circumstances, and hope to be even rich very shortly? But -that young creature--so beautiful,--so indescribably--so enchantingly -beautiful,--what object could she have in pledging her friendship to -me--to _me_, a stranger whom she had never seen before? Fool that I am! -wherefore did I give a similar promise to her? Oh! it was in a moment -of delirium--of enchantment--of intoxication;--and might it not also -have been the same with her? Ah! that belief would denote a boundless -vanity on my part;--and yet women have their sudden caprices--their -instantaneous attachments, as well as men! Yes--it must be so--Perdita -loves me!--she loves me--and I already love her deeply--madly, in -return!” - -But scarcely had these thoughts passed through his brain, when his -heart smote him painfully--severely,--reproaching him with his -treachery towards Lady Frances Ellingham, and suggesting a comparison -between the retiring, bashful beauty of this charming young creature, -and the warm, impassioned, bold loveliness of the syren Perdita. - -The more Charles Hatfield pondered upon the strange scene that had -taken place in Suffolk Street, the less satisfied did he feel with -himself. He saw that his conduct had been rash, precipitate, and -thoughtless;--and yet there was something so pleasurable in what he -blamed himself for, that he was not altogether contrite. Indeed, he -felt--he admitted to his own secret soul, that had he the power of -recalling the last two hours, he should act precisely in the same -manner over again. For when he thought of Perdita,--remembered her -witcheries--dwelt on her faultless charms--and recalled to mind the -mystic fascination of her language and the delicious tones of her -voice,--his imagination grew inflamed--his blood ran rapidly and hotly -in his veins--and it seemed that were she Satan in female shape, he -could sell his soul to her! - -It was late when he returned to Ellingham House; and he repaired at -once to his chamber. But he could not sleep: the image of Perdita -haunted him;--and were it not so unseasonable an hour he would have -returned to Suffolk Street under pretence of soliciting the promised -revelations from Mrs. Fitzhardinge. - -When he retired to rest, and sleep did at last visit his eyes, -that beauteous image followed him in his dreams. He thought that -he was seated by the side of the witching fair one on the sofa, -and that she was reclining, half-embraced, on his breast, with her -countenance, flushed and wanton in expression, upturned towards -his own. This delicious position appeared to last for a long--long -time, neither uttering a word, but drinking deep draughts of love -from each other’s eyes. Then he fancied that he stooped to press his -lips to her delicious mouth;--but at that instant the lovely face -changed--elongating, and undergoing so horrible a transformation -that his eyes were fixed in appalling fascination upon it,--while, -at the same time, he became sensible that the soft and supple form -which he held in his arms was undergoing a rapid and signal change -likewise,--till the whole being, lately so charming, so tender, and -so loving, was changed into a hideous serpent. A terrible cry escaped -him--and he awoke! - -The rays of the gorgeous sun were streaming in at the window, as -Charles Hatfield started from his slumber; and, to his surprise, he -found his father standing by the side of the bed. - -“You have been labouring under the influence of an unpleasant dream, -Charles,” said Mr. Hatfield, taking his son’s hand. - -“Yes--’twas indeed a hideous dream!” exclaimed the young man, -shuddering at the idea which still pursued him. - -“And was that dream a reflex of any thoughts which occupy you when -awake?” asked his father, in a kind and anxious tone. - -Charles surveyed his parent with astonishment, and then became -absolutely crimson in the face;--for this early and unusual visit -seemed to imply that its object was in some way connected with matters -that had lately been occupying, as the reader knows, no inconsiderable -share of the young man’s reflections--we mean, the family secrets into -which he had so strangely penetrated. - -“Yes, Charles,” continued Mr. Hatfield; “I feared that you had -something upon your mind; and your manner now confirms that -apprehension. For the last week you have not been the same gay, happy, -lively being you so lately were;--and, although you have endeavoured -to conceal your sorrow from observation, yet it has not escaped the -eyes of your affectionate mother and myself. Tell me, Charles--tell me -candidly, I implore you--is it in consequence of the discovery that we -are your parents, and not mere relatives----” - -“Oh! my dear father,” exclaimed the young man, “that discovery made me -happy, I solemnly assure you!” - -“Then wherefore are you melancholy and thoughtful at times?” asked Mr. -Hatfield, in a tone of deep interest. - -“Melancholy and thoughtful!” repeated Charles, mechanically. - -“Yes, my dear son: and even at this moment----” - -“Even at this moment,” still repeated Charles, whose imagination was -wandering to Suffolk Street, the influence of his dream having been -to fill his soul with a more profound terror than he had ever before -experienced from the worst of sleep’s delusions. - -“Yes--even at this moment you are abstracted--your ideas are -unsettled--and there is a wildness in your looks which terrifies me!” -cried Mr. Hatfield, speaking with strong emphasis and in an earnest -manner. “Charles! again I implore you to tell me the cause of this -change which has so lately come over you!” - -“Dear father, why will you press me on the subject?” cried the young -man, now brought to himself, yet knowing not how to reply. “Oh! believe -me--believe me, it will be better for us both that you do not persist -in questioning me!” - -“On the contrary, Charles,” returned Mr. Hatfield, speaking more -seriously and firmly than before, “it will be far more satisfactory -to me--yes, and to your mother also--to be made the depositors of -your secret cares. You have assured me that you are not unhappy on -account of the discovery made on the day when the Prince of Montoni -was received at Court; and therefore I must conjecture the existence -of some other cause of grief. Charles, my dear boy,” added his father, -gazing steadfastly upon him, “you love Lady Frances--and you are -fearful of avowing your passion?” - -The young man had expected that his father was about to speak on some -of those family matters into the mysterious depths of which he had -penetrated; and, therefore, when Mr. Hatfield addressed to him that -species of interrogative accusation, Charles experienced a relief which -betrayed itself as well in the brightening up of his countenance as in -the surprise wherewith he regarded his parent. - -“Ah! now I have penetrated your secret!” cried the latter: then, -wringing his son’s hand, he said impressively, “Fear nothing--but hope -every thing, Charles;--and if you have reason to believe that Lady -Frances reciprocates your attachment, hesitate not to offer her your -hand.” - -With these words, Mr. Hatfield hurried from the room, leaving his son -amazed and bewildered at the turn which the scene had so unexpectedly -taken. - -“Yes,” exclaimed the young man aloud, after a long pause, during which -he reflected profoundly alike on his fearful dream and his father’s -suggestion; “I will banish Perdita from my memory--for that vision was -a providential warning! The most deadly serpents often wear the most -beauteous skins;--and Perdita--the syren Perdita--has secret ends of -her own to serve in thus throwing her silken chains round me. There is -mischief in her fascination:--the honey of her lips will turn to gall -and bitterness in the mouth of him who presses them! And Frances--my -charming cousin Frances, who knows not that she is thus related to -me,--sweet Lady Frances is endowed with every quality calculated to -ensure my happiness. Yes--I will adopt my father’s counsel: I will -secure the hand of this amiable girl! Then, although I must sooner or -later compel my sire to wrest the earldom from his younger brother, -the blow will fall the less severely on the latter, inasmuch as his -daughter will become a Viscountess in espousing me, and a Countess at -my father’s death!” - -Thus reasoned Charles Hatfield, as he performed the duties of the -toilette; and when he descended to the breakfast-parlour, there was so -fine a glow of animation on his countenance, and so much happiness in -his bright eyes, that his parents were rejoiced to mark the change. -They did not, however, make any audible observation on the subject; -but the rapid and significant glances which they dealt at each other, -expressed the delight that filled their souls. - -Lady Frances looked more than usually beautiful and interesting on this -occasion: at least so thought Charles Hatfield, as, seating himself by -her side, he ministered to her the attentions of the breakfast table. - -The conversation turned upon an important event which was to take place -in the evening--the Prince of Montoni having accepted the Earl of -Ellingham’s invitation to a banquet at the lordly mansion in Pall Mall. -It was resolved, in order to render befitting honour to the illustrious -guest, that the entertainment should be of the most sumptuous -description; and no expense was to be spared on the occasion. A select -number of the noble Earl’s acquaintances were invited; and these were -chosen not on account of great names and sounding titles,--but on the -score of personal merit and consideration. - -Soon after breakfast Charles Hatfield and Lady Frances found themselves -alone together in the apartment; and the young maiden, approaching her -companion, said in her artless, fascinating manner, “I am delighted -to see that you have recovered your natural gaiety. Do you know, -Mr. Charles, that you have latterly been most desperately moody and -reserved?” - -“Not towards you, I hope, dear Fanny,” he replied. “Not for worlds,” he -added emphatically, “would I give you cause to think ill of me.” - -“As for thinking ill of you, Charles,” she observed, “_that_ would -be impossible! But may I not seek to know the reasons of your late -unhappiness?” - -“Let us not discourse upon the past, Fanny,” said the young man, -earnestly. “I am happy now, at all events--happier, too, than ever, -because I perceive that my welfare is not altogether indifferent to -you.” - -“Far from it,” observed Lady Frances, with the ingenuous emphasis of -her extreme artlessness. “Do we not live beneath the same roof?--are we -not friends?--are not our parents very dear friends to each other?--and -is it not therefore natural that I should feel interested in all that -concerns your happiness?” - -“Adorable creature!” exclaimed Charles, as he drew a rapid contrast -between the charming _naiveté_ of the beautiful Lady Frances and the -forward, bold manner of the voluptuously lovely Perdita: then, taking -his cousin’s hand, and gazing tenderly upon her innocent countenance, -he said, “Fanny, were our parents to sanction our marriage, would you -consent to be mine?” - -Lady Frances withdrew her hand hastily; and, blushing deeply, she gazed -for a few seconds in the most unfeigned surprise on her companion. - -“You are not offended with me?” asked Charles. “I had hoped--I had -flattered myself----” - -“No--I am not offended with you,” returned Fanny, now casting down her -eyes and blushing even more deeply than before: “but I fear--I tremble -lest I am doing wrong thus to listen to you----” - -“A virtuous affection is no crime,” said the young man, hastily. “And -now, my dearest Frances, if you feel that you _can_ love me, I will at -once declare to your noble parents the attachment--the deep attachment -which I experience towards you.” - -“Whatever my father and mother counsel, will become a law for me,” -answered Lady Frances, in a low and tremulous tone, which convinced the -suitor that he was not indifferent to her. - -Charles pressed her hand to his lips, and hurried from the room with -the intention of immediately seeking the Earl of Ellingham; but in the -passage he encountered a domestic who gave him a note which had just -been left by a messenger. The address was in an elegant female hand; -and the word “Private” was written in the corner. Charles hastened to -his own apartment, and read the note, the contents of which ran as -follow:---- - - “MY DEAREST FRIEND,--Before you see my mother again, I must - have a few words with you in private. She is compelled to visit - her solicitor at mid-day, and will be absent for at least two - hours. I shall expect you as soon after twelve as possible. - - “PERDITA FITZHARDINGE.” - -“No--I will not accept the invitation!” exclaimed the young man, -aloud: then, gazing again at the note, he murmured, “What a charming -hand-writing--and how beautiful does her mystic and romantic name -appear upon paper! _Perdita!_--’tis a name which possesses an -irresistible attraction! But--oh! that dream! And yet it was but a -dream--and a very silly dream, the more I contemplate it. Heavenly -warnings are not sent by such means; and Lady Frances might as well -have been the subject of the vision as Perdita. What can she require -with me? She must have a few words with me in private before I see her -mother again. Then her mother expects and intends to have an interview -with me--and she must therefore have certain communications to make, -after all. This does not appear like delusion nor trickery:--no--the -old lady really has matters of import to discuss with me;--and I -should be wrong--I should perhaps be criminally neglectful of my -own interests, were I not to hear whatever she may have to state. -And, Perdita--it would be at least rude and ungentlemanly on my part -not to attend to this missive, the nature of which appears to be -urgent. Yes--I will call on Perdita: ’tis already verging close upon -mid-day--and there is no time to be lost. But--after all that has -passed between dear Frances and myself this morning--I shall be as -distant and reserved as politeness will admit: I shall arm myself -against the fascinations of the syren;--and if she offer to release me -from the pledge of friendship so inconsiderately given, I shall not -fail to accept with joy the proposed emancipation.” - -But, before he repaired to Suffolk Street, did he not seek his father -to communicate to him the important fact that he had duly followed his -counsel and solicited the hand of Lady Frances?--or did he not obtain -an interview with the Earl and acquaint him with the nature of the -conversation which had taken place between himself and that nobleman’s -daughter? - -Alas! no:--for it was close upon twelve when the young man received -Perdita’s note;--and he thought that it did not precisely signify for -an hour or two when he might make those statements; whereas it was -necessary to see the syren without delay. - -Thus reasoned Charles Hatfield to himself;--and the reader will agree -with us in deciding that the necessity which constituted the excuse for -his conduct, was not quite so urgent as he chose to fancy it. - -Moreover,--since Charles Hatfield resolved to appear as reserved and -formal as he well might be, towards Perdita,--it was assuredly strange -that he should devote more than usual attention to his toilette, -arranging his hair in the most becoming style, and surveying with -inward satisfaction his very handsome countenance in the mirror. - -The clock struck twelve as he quitted the house;--and it was impossible -to conceal from himself the fact that he was rejoiced at having an -excuse to call upon Perdita. - -Then, as he proceeded with some degree of rapidity towards Suffolk -Street, he could not possibly prevent his imagination from indulging -in exciting conjectures how Perdita would be dressed--how she would -look by day-light--and how she would receive him when she observed his -studied coolness and his constraint of manner. - -“Poor girl!” he murmured to himself: “if she really hoped to find a -sincere friend in me, how will she bear the disappointment which is -in store for her? It grieves me--Oh! it grieves me to be compelled to -inflict a wound upon her gentle heart; but duty--yes, my duty towards -Lady Frances leaves me no alternative.” - -With a beating heart he knocked at the door;--and in less than a minute -he was conducted to the drawing-room, where Perdita was waiting to -receive him. - -The young lady was dressed in an elegant morning wrapper; and, the -weather being intensely hot, the ribbands which should have fastened -it round her neck, were left untied, so that it remained open at -the bosom. Her hair was arranged in bands, and she wore a cap of -the slightest material, but the snowy whiteness of which enhanced -the glossy richness of those luxuriant masses that crowned her fine -forehead. Her large grey eyes, with their dark pupils, were as bright -and lustrous as on the preceding evening; and the noon-day sun -detracted not from the exquisite whiteness of the neck and shoulders, -and the healthy hues of the complexion of the countenance, which had -shone to such advantage by candle-light. - -No: Perdita was as ravishingly beautiful on this occasion, as on the -former;--and there was a freshness--yes, even an appearance of virgin -freshness, about her, matured and developed as her charms were, which -counteracted the impression that her wanton looks and the forwardness -of her manner might otherwise have created in respect to her virtue. -Her depravity in Australia had not impaired her loveliness, nor marred -the youthfulness of her beauty: her face--her figure afforded not an -intimation that she had been steeped in licentious enjoyments from the -age of thirteen until she embarked on board the ship that wafted her to -England. - -The moment Charles Hatfield entered the room, he was struck by the -enchanting loveliness of Perdita as much as he had been on the -preceding evening--indeed, as completely as if this were the first time -that he had ever seen her. For an instant he stopped short as if he -dared not proceed farther within the sphere of that Circean influence -which a warning voice within his soul seemed to declare was alluring -him on to total destruction but, fascinated as is the tremulous bird by -the eye of the serpent, he advanced towards the beautiful creature who -rose from the sofa to receive him. - -Then as he felt her warm hand in his,--as her countenance beamed upon -him in all the glory of its loveliness,--as her soft, musical, and -delicious voice flowed upon his ear, borne on a breath fragrant as the -perfume of flowers, and issuing from lips that seemed to have robbed -the rose of its tint,--he felt his stern resolves thawing within him, -and experienced the impossibility of manifesting coolness towards a -creature of such exquisite charms and such rare fascinations. - -“I thank you, my dear friend, for this punctuality,” she said, gently -drawing him to a seat by her side on the sofa, when she resumed -her place. “Have you thought of all that passed between us last -evening?--and have you reflected that we played the part of silly -children in pledging eternal friendship, total strangers as we were to -each other?--or did you regard the proceeding as a natural and solemn -compact, to be inviolably maintained?” - -“Wherefore these questions, Perdita?” enquired Charles, dazzled by -the impassioned looks that were fixed upon him. “Have you yourself -repented----” - -“I never repent of any thing that I may do,” answered Perdita, hastily. -“I do nothing without being convinced beforehand that I am acting -judiciously and properly; and when I most appear to be the child of -impulse, I am on those occasions the most considerate, cautious, and -reflective. But this may not be the case with you: and, therefore, it -was incumbent upon me to ascertain your feeling in respect----” - -“In respect to that friendship which I have sworn!” exclaimed Charles, -no longer master of himself. “Not for world’s would I recall the pledge -I gave----” - -“Then we are friends--friends in the manner I had hoped we should be,” -said the young woman. “But it was necessary that I should be assured of -this before I spoke to you on a subject which otherwise would have been -indifferent to you,” she added, bending on her companion a look that -seemed to invite him to kiss the red, pouting lips which, now parting -with a delicious smile, revealed her somewhat large, but pearly, even, -and admirably shaped teeth. - -“Proceed, my dearest--dearest friend,” exclaimed Charles, no longer -thinking of Lady Frances, but totally absorbed in the fascination which -attracted him towards the bewitching Perdita. - -“You call me your friend--and it is as a friend that I wish to consult -you, Charles,” said the young woman, heaving a deep sigh. “You must -know that, singular being that I may appear to you, and even unmaidenly -hasty in forming so sincere a friendship----” - -“No--no: you obeyed the dictates of a generous heart--a heart as -ingenuous and innocent as it is fervid and warm,” cried Charles, -seizing one of her hands and pressing it in both his own. - -“Ah! now you comprehend my sentiments just as I would have explained -them had I been able to find language for the purpose!” she said, -abandoning her hand to him as if unwittingly. “But, as I was about to -observe, I am all candour and frankness:--that is my deposition;--and -when you left me last evening, I immediately hastened to my mother, who -was seized with a sudden indisposition which prevented her from joining -us in this room; and to her I revealed at once and unhesitatingly every -word of the conversation that had occurred between you and me.” - -“And she doubtless reproached you for opening your heart so freely to -one who was a complete stranger to you?” said Charles, now fearful lest -Mrs. Fitzhardinge should forbid his visits to Perdita in future. - -“She reproached me indeed--but mildly and blandly,” answered the -deceitful young woman, assuming a plaintive tone; “and yet not so -mildly as was her wont on former occasions--for it appears that she has -formed certain views in regard to me--views of marriage----” - -“Marriage, Perdita!” repeated Charles Hatfield, bitterly. - -“Yes,” she responded, her voice growing more mournful still. “A man of -immense wealth--and with a noble title, but whose name I do not even -yet know, and whom I have never seen----” - -“Oh! this is infamous, thus to dispose of you to a person whom perhaps -you may never be able to love!” cried Charles, with strange emphasis -and excitement of manner. - -“Love! I shall hate and abhor him, even though he be handsome and -amiable beyond all conception,” exclaimed Perdita. “I shall detest him -for the mere fact that I am compelled to espouse him.” - -“But will you yield with docility to an arrangement which seems to -me--pardon the freedom with which I speak of your mother--to be -indelicate and unjust?” demanded the young man. - -“Alas! I fear that I have no alternative save to yield with as good a -grace as I can assume,” answered Perdita, tears now starting to her -eyes, and trembling on her long dark lashes; “for the nobleman whom my -mother would thus force me to wed, is her opponent in the law-suit--and -he has discovered a means of establishing his claims beyond all -possibility of farther dispute.” - -“Oh! I understand the dreadful selfishness that is now at work in -respect to you!” cried Charles. “He will allow your mother to enjoy the -fortune, provided you are immolated--sacrificed----” - -“Yes: those are the terms;--and now you may easily comprehend how I -shrink from such a fate!” exclaimed the young woman, sobbing profoundly. - -“But this nobleman--who is he? what is his name?” demanded Hatfield, -powerfully excited. - -“I know so little of my mother’s private affairs, that I am unable to -answer the questions,” said Perdita. “To speak candidly, she refused -even to mention the name or the age of this unknown suitor for my hand: -and therefore I apprehend the worst. Indeed, from an observation which -she inadvertently dropped, I am convinced that he is old--very old----” - -“And you who are so young--and so beautiful!” cried Charles Hatfield, -gazing upon her with admiration--nay, with adoration and enthusiastic -worship. “It were an infamy--a crime--a diabolical crime, thus to -sacrifice you!” - -“Yet such is my mother’s intention,” murmured Perdita; “and therefore -was it that she reproached me for vowing a permanent friendship with -you.” - -“Then Mrs. Fitzhardinge will immolate you on the altar of -selfishness--she will sell you for gold,--sell you, perhaps, to an old -man who may be hideous, and who is certain to be loathsome to you?” -exclaimed Charles, speaking with all the rapidity of wild excitement. - -“Yes:--and it was not until last night that I was aware of the -frightful arrangement which my mother had thus made--the dreadful -compact to which she had assented. It seems that this nobleman had -heard of me--and the description given of my appearance pleased him; so -that when he yesterday discovered the existence of some paper which at -once annihilated all my mother’s previously conceived hopes of gaining -the law-suit, he promised his hateful conditions.” - -“And Mrs. Fitzhardinge has now sought her attorney----” - -“For the purpose of declaring that I assent to this most unnatural -union!” added Perdita, with the well-feigned emphasis of violent sorrow. - -“But was it possible that you could hold out to your mother even the -faintest prospect of thus sacrificing all your happiness suddenly and -in a moment?” demanded Charles. - -“When I beheld my mother weep--heard her implore and beseech--and was -made aware of the ruin that threatened her unless I agreed to the -proposals of this unknown suitor, I wept also--and, my tears choking -me, my silence was taken for assent. Then my mother departed to visit -her solicitor: and in my despair I despatched a note to you, praying -you to call on me during her absence.” - -“My God! what counsel--what advice can I give you?” exclaimed Charles, -bewildered by the tale which was told so plausibly that not a doubt -of its truth existed in his mind. “I cannot see you sacrificed -thus:--yet how can I save you? Oh! were I possessed of a fortune, I -would bestow it upon your mother that she might leave you free and -unshackled to obey only the dictates of your own will--follow your own -inclinations--and bestow your hand where you could likewise grant your -affections!” - -“Ah! my generous friend,” murmured Perdita, advancing her countenance -towards his own as if unwittingly and in the excitement of her -feelings: “how deeply grateful to you am I for these assurances! I -knew that I should receive your sympathy--if not your aid,--your -commiseration--if not your assistance.” - -“How can I assist you, dearest Perdita?” exclaimed Charles, pressing -her hand violently in his own. “The liberality of my pa----my uncle and -aunt, I mean--have enabled me to accumulate some seven or eight hundred -pounds--for my allowance is far more liberal than my expenditure: -and that amount is at your mother’s service. But it is so small--so -contemptibly small in comparison with the fortune which she doubtless -hopes to acquire----” - -“Nevertheless, it may procure a delay, by rescuing my mother from the -immediate embarrassments in which this sudden change in the aspect of -her affairs has plunged her,” said Perdita: “for, to speak candidly to -you, her solicitor has been advancing her a regular income during the -time that the suit has lasted;--and now, since all hope of gaining it -is destroyed, no farther supplies can be expected from that quarter.” - -“Yes--it may procure a delay,” said Charles, in a musing tone; “and -with leisure to reflect calmly--deliberately--much may be done! O -Perdita--never, never could I see you thus sacrificed to a man whom you -would abhor!” - -“Generous friend--’twas heaven who sent you to me!” exclaimed the young -woman, drooping her head upon his breast, and weeping,--weeping tears -of gratitude, as he fondly believed. - -He threw his arms around her--he pressed her to his heart--he clasped -her with such fervour that the embrace was passionately violent--he -strained her as it were to the seat of his very soul: then, hastily -loosening his hold, he raised her face--her warm, blushing face--and -on her lips he imprinted a thousand rapturous kisses,--those lips that -were literally glued to his own. He looked into her eyes, and read -love, desire, and passion in those orbs, now melting with languor and -wantonness;--for Perdita herself had almost entirely lost all power -of self-controul, and clung to him as if inviting the full extreme of -voluptuous enjoyment. He felt her bosom heaving against his chest; -and, maddened with excitement, his daring hand invaded the treasures -of those swelling, palpitating globes, so snowy in their whiteness--so -warm with their licentious fires. - -But at that instant Perdita recovered her presence of mind: and it -flashed to her memory that it was no part of her scheme to surrender -herself completely up to him until she had ensnared his affections so -fully--so inextricably, that all subsequent escape or estrangement, -through repentance and remorse, should be impossible. - -Accordingly--wresting herself from his embrace, and retreating to the -farther end of the sofa, she hastily arranged her cap and dishevelled -hair--drew the wrapper over her breast--and, turning upon him eyes that -still seemed to swim in liquid languor, said in a half-reproachful -manner, “Oh! Charles--is this friendship? would you ruin me?” - -“Sweetest--dearest creature,” exclaimed the young man, “did I not tell -you yester-night that _friendship_ was a sentiment dangerous for us -to feel, and a word perilous for our tongues to utter? O Perdita--it -is not friendship that I feel for you: ’tis love--ardent, sincere, -and devoted love! And ’twas not friendship at first sight that I -experienced for you the moment I last evening set foot in this room: -but ’twas love--love, my Perdita--such love as never before did man -entertain for woman!” - -“And it was because I love you, Charles,” murmured Perdita, in her -softest, tenderest tones, “that I loathe and abhor the idea of that -union which my mother has so inconsiderately--so rashly--so cruelly -planned for me!” - -“You love me, Perdita!” ejaculated the young man, wild with joy: -“oh! thanks--ten thousand thanks for that assurance, my own sweet -Perdita! I was happy in the possession of your friendship: but I am -now mad--demented in the confidence of owning your love! For the love -of such a being as yourself is something that would make a paradise of -the blackest and most barren desert on the face of the earth! Is it -possible, then, that I possess your love, Perdita--dearest Perdita? Oh! -tell me so once more: it is so delicious to hear such an avowal from -your lips!” - -“Yes, Charles--I love you--I do indeed love you,” replied the young -woman, throwing as much softness into her melting tones, as much -witchery into her manner, and as much voluptuous languor into her -glances as she possibly could. - -It was like a scene of enchantment for that young man of wild and -fervid impulses; and he was completely--wholly absorbed in its magic -interest,--an interest so enthralling, so captivating that he felt as -if he had been suddenly wafted into a new world of delights unknown in -this sublunary sphere. Lady Frances was forgotten--his parents, his -ambitious aims, and even his admiration of the Prince of Montoni,--all, -all were forgotten in the delirium of passion which had seized upon him. - -“You love me--you do indeed love me!” he exclaimed; and, approaching -the object of his worship, he again wound his arms around her--again -drank in the sweetness of her moist red lips. - -“Charles--Charles,” she murmured; “you are gloriously handsome--and I -adore you!” - -But as she thus spoke, she once more disengaged herself from his -maddened embrace--for she felt that her own passions, ever violent, -were raging to a degree that became almost uncontroullable. - -“And now listen to me--patiently and tranquilly if you can; and I -will lay down the conditions on which our complete happiness may -be based,--conditions which have for their elements that generous -confidence, that mutual reliance, and that candour and frankness which -alone constitute pure affection.” - -“Proceed, dearest Perdita,” said Hatfield: “I am all attention--and -your voice is sweeter in my ears than the most delicious music.” - -Perdita once more arranged her cap and the massive bands of her glossy -hair: then, turning with a simulation of charming artlessness towards -her companion, she addressed him in the following manner. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXII. - -THE DANGEROUS SOPHISTRY OF A LOVELY WOMAN. - - -“You are now about to discover a new phasis in my character, dear -Charles; and perhaps you will look upon my notions and opinions as -unmaidenly and bold--if not positively immoral. But remember that I -am not like the generality of my sex; and that my sentiments, though -audacious as innovations, are nevertheless as sincerely believed in as -they are tenaciously clung to by me.” - -“It is because you are so different from other women, not only in the -loveliness of your person, but also in the tone and strength of your -mind,” said Charles, “that I am thus enamoured of you--yes, and proud -too of possessing your affection in return.” - -“But I am about to preach a doctrine which you may think repugnant to -the befitting delicacy of my sex,” returned Perdita: “for it is of the -uselessness of the marriage rites that I have now to discourse.” - -“Proceed, dearest,” said Charles; “and I will frankly give you my -opinion on your views in this respect.” - -“Ah! now you encourage me to open my heart to you, my dear friend,” -exclaimed Perdita; “and you do not affect the sanctimonious hypocrite, -who frowns even before he has heard the argument broached. Thus stands -our present position in my estimation:--We love each other----” - -“Devotedly--earnestly,” added Charles, with strong emphasis, the image -of Lady Frances being as completely banished from his mind as if such a -person as that charming creature did not exist in the world. - -“Yes--we love each other devotedly and earnestly,” continued Perdita; -“and the extent as well as the ardour of our passion is a something -which should remain a solemn and sacred mystery to the vulgar and -curious observer. ’Tis a secret which we should cherish between -ourselves,--a secret whose charm is spoilt, or at all events marred, -by being revealed to others who are indifferent to us. This is one -reason wherefore I consider the pompous ceremony of marriage to be -actually detrimental to the fervid, ardent, and warm attachment -which seeks to hide itself in the bosoms of the fond couple who -entertain it. Then, again, I should not be happy were I to have the -conviction that I was so enchained to you by legal trammels that -you could not cast me off did I become displeasing to you;--for I -should never know whether you still clung to me through the endurance -of real affection, or because an indissoluble bond forged by human -legislation united us. No:--I would rather that our love rested -upon its own basis alone--existing by its own vitality, and through -no borrowed and artificial auxiliary,--that it should be a mutual -confidence--a mutual reliance,--free and independent in one sense, -and compulsory in none. If on these terms you will take thy Perdita -to thine arms, Charles--then indeed shall I gladly become thine:--but -if our union must be characterised by solemn ceremonies and cold, -inanimate rites--then, heartbreaking as the alternative will be, I can -never--never be more to thee than a sincere and faithful friend.” - -“Dearest Perdita,” exclaimed Charles, “I receive all these confessions -of your peculiar sentiments as new proofs of your love for me! For by -the very nature of the conditions which you stipulate, you convince me -of the trust which you repose in my fidelity and honour.” - -“Yes--because in defiance of the opinion of the world, I surrender -myself up to you, to be a wife in every thing save in respect to that -ceremony which is the first object of a virtuous woman’s thoughts,” -murmured Perdita. “And now, dear Charles, do you entertain a mean -opinion of my principles, because I dare to chalk out a path of -happiness according to my own fancy?” - -“No--no. Perdita!” cried the young man, pressing to his lips the hand -which was extended to him with such an appearance of ingenuousness -that it quite enchanted him. “But how is it possible that you--so -young--should have pondered so seriously on the subject of love and of -marriage? For you have assured me that you never loved till now----” - -“Though nineteen summers have not yet passed over my head,” interrupted -Perdita, “my mind has travelled much in the realms of thought and -meditation;--and though, as I will candidly confess to you, I have read -but little, yet have I pondered much.” - -“And there is about you a mystery as charming and as interesting as -your loveliness is indescribably great,” said Charles: “and you know, -angel that you are, how I adore you!” - -“Then if we plight our faith to each other to-day, as solemnly and as -emphatically as yester-night we vowed an eternal friendship, shall -you ever repent the step you will have taken?” asked Perdita, gazing -affectionately on her handsome companion, whose looks seemed to devour -her. - -“Repent!--what, repent the step that makes you mine?” he exclaimed. -“No--never, never!” - -“And you take me as your wife on the conditions I have named--that I am -to be a wife, and no wife?” said Perdita, her musical voice sounding -soft as a silver bell and tremulously clear,--ravishment in her tone, -love in her eyes, and warmth in the tender pressure of the hand which -the young man had grasped. - -“Yes--I take you as my wife on those conditions,” he returned, pressing -her to his bosom. “But there are still many things to be considered, my -Perdita,” he observed, after a short pause, during which they exchanged -the most rapturous kisses. “In the first place, your mother----” - -“I shall boldly acquaint her with what I have done,” said Perdita; “and -she will not seal my unhappiness by an opposition--which, after all, -would be vain and useless,” added the syren. - -“And will not Mrs. Fitzhardinge recoil in horror from the idea that her -daughter should have formed this connexion, without bearing the legal -name of a wife?” demanded Charles, gazing earnestly on her beautiful -countenance. - -“Leave me to make my mother a convert to my own principles respecting -marriage,” was the reply. “And now, with regard to yourself, my -Charles,--you need be under no restraint. Continue to dwell with -your family--and visit me as frequently as you can. In fact, I shall -of course expect you to pass as much of your time as possible with -me,--but never when your relatives and friends require your presence.” - -“Oh! on these terms we shall indeed be supremely happy!” cried Charles. -“And now you are my wife?” - -“Yes--and you are my husband,” blushingly answered the syren, as she -drooped her head upon his breast. - -He wound his arms around her; and then their lips met in warm and -luscious kisses. Charles grew bolder: his hand wandered to Perdita’s -glowing bosom,--and Perdita no longer restrained him--no longer -shrank back. Still, however, she did not choose to surrender herself -immediately: a little more tantalization would only rivet his -enthusiastic attachment and confirm the madness of his devouring -passion;--and, accordingly--at the moment when, wild with desire, -he was about to claim the privilege of a husband, she started from -his arms, exclaiming, “Hush! my mother has returned--I hear her -approaching!” - -They separated--retreating to the ends of the sofa; and Perdita -arranged her disordered hair once more. - -No one however came: it was a false alarm,--as Perdita indeed well knew -it to be. - -“You must leave me now, Charles,” she said; “for my mother cannot -be long ere she comes back. To-morrow, at mid-day, I shall be again -alone--for I am aware that she will have to pay another visit to her -attorney. Come, then, at that hour--and I will tell you all that has -passed between my parent and myself.” - -“Not an instant later than twelve to-morrow shall I be!” exclaimed -Charles. “And now,--forgive me for returning for a moment to worldly -affairs--quitting the paradise of happiness to which you have raised -me, my Perdita,--but in respect to the small sum----” - -“Oh! I had forgotten all our arrangements with regard to that matter,” -said Perdita: “and, indeed--I detest and abominate money-affairs. -But now--as your wife, dearest Charles--I may mention my wishes on -that head without a blush. I should therefore be pleased if you could -forward the amount to me in the course of the afternoon; and I will use -it to the best possible advantage with my mother.” - -“In less than an hour it shall be here in an envelope, sealed, -and addressed to yourself,” said Charles. “Farewell, my sweet -Perdita--farewell, until to-morrow!” - -They embraced each other fervently; and Charles Hatfield took his -departure. - -Before he returned home, he walked into the park to collect his -scattered thoughts and acquire some degree of composure. His -perfidy--his infamous treachery towards Lady Frances now burst upon him -in all its hideousness. That very morning had he demanded his cousin’s -hand in marriage;--and within an hour afterwards he had solemnly -contracted a strange and scarcely comprehensible union with Perdita -Fitzhardinge. - -His conduct seemed vile in the extreme: his heart, smote him painfully. - -Yet was he so completely infatuated with Perdita, that he could -not calmly contemplate the idea of breaking with her for ever. He -was like a gambler who loathes himself for his ready yielding to a -ruinous vice--but who nevertheless returns with renewed zest to the -gaming-table. - -For Charles thought of the happiness which he had so nearly attained -on this eventful day, and which he felt assured must await him on the -morrow:--he could not banish from his imagination the recollection -of those charms which had plunged him into a perfect delirium of -passion;--and the more he thought on the witching loveliness of -Perdita, the less inclined was he to resign her. - -Then came the almost inevitable results of the sophistry which the -designing woman had called to her aid,--results which may be explained -the more completely by following the current of the young man’s -thoughts. - -“After all, I am not indissolubly bound to Perdita--nor has she for -ever linked her destiny with mine. No marriage ceremony has taken -place between us--nor will any. I am not inextricably fastened to -her apron-strings. And yet--and yet, is it honourable of me to make -such calculations, the inferences to be drawn from which I am ashamed -even to express to my own secret self? No--no: because no legal ties -exist between us, I am the more imperiously bound to remain faithfully -attached to her! Beautiful--enchanting--mysterious Perdita, how hast -thou enthralled me! But--my God! am I not your willing slave?--do I -not accept the yoke which thou hast thrown upon me?--would I release -myself from those silken chains, even were I able? No--ten thousand -times _no_, my adored--my worshipped Perdita! I care not whether thou -dost exercise a supernatural enchantment over me: if thou art Satan in -a female shape--or a serpent, as my dream appeared to give warning--I -cannot cease to love thee,--no--never--never!” - -But what of Lady Frances Ellingham? Oh! it was rash--it was indiscreet -of him to solicit her hand;--but had he not acted in pursuance of -the advice of his father?--and had he gone so far as to be unable to -retreat? - -Alas! Charles Hatfield, the sophistry of Perdita has rendered thee -sophistical, until thou dost stand on the very threshold of--villainy! - -Reckless art thou of the whisperings of conscience:--thou art -infatuated with the fatal beauty of thy Perdita--and the hope, the -burning hope of tasting in her arms the pleasures of paradise, renders -thee studious only to subdue the remorse that whispers to thee the name -of the outraged Lady Frances Ellingham! - -Having wandered in the park for upwards of half an hour, Charles -Hatfield bethought himself of the promise to send the amount of his -savings to his beauteous Perdita; and, hastening home, he sought his -chamber, which he reached unperceived by any one save the domestic -who gave him admission. That he was thus unobserved, was a source of -satisfaction,--inasmuch as he felt that his cheeks were flushed, and he -feared lest his appearance might seem singular. - -Opening his desk he took from a secret drawer the Bank-notes which -constituted his savings; and enveloping them in a sheet of paper, he -issued forth again to leave the parcel at the house in Suffolk Street. -This being done, Charles returned to the park, where he roamed about -until the hour arrived when it was necessary for him to return home in -order to dress for dinner. - -The reader must not forget that a splendid banquet was to take place -that evening at the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham,--a banquet given -in honour of the Prince of Montoni, and at which his Royal Highness was -to be present. - -As the hour approached, Charles Hatfield felt his heart beat; and all -his admiration of the illustrious hero revived;--so that his mind was -labouring under no inconsiderable degree of excitement, as he thought -of Perdita on the one hand--the Prince on the other--and also of Lady -Frances Ellingham! - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXIII. - -A THRONE SURROUNDED BY REPUBLICAN INSTITUTIONS. - - -The entertainment was of the most splendid description--worthy of the -hospitality and taste of the noble host and hostess. - -The Prince of Montoni was dressed in plain clothes: but on his breast -gleamed the star denoting his rank; and on his left leg he wore the -English Garter, his Royal Highness having been admitted on the previous -day a member of that illustrious Order. - -He was seated on the right of the Countess of Ellingham, Lady Frances -being next to him, and Charles Hatfield occupying the place immediately -following. In addition to these personages and the Earl of Ellingham, -Mr. Hatfield, and Lady Georgiana there were Sir John Lascelles, -Clarence Villiers and Adelais, and the select few who had been invited -to the banquet on this occasion. - -The Prince was naturally of a modest and unassuming -disposition,--though endowed with ample dignity to maintain his lofty -rank and honourably fill his high position,--yet bearing himself so -condescendingly and affably, that every one felt completely at ease in -his presence. Even Sir John Lascelles, who had grown somewhat morose, -and difficult to please in his old age, was quite delighted with the -youthful hero, whose conversation was characterised by so much sound -sense and such a total absence of obtrusiveness. - -Charles Hatfield was delighted at the thought of being once more in -company with the object of his worship; and he seemed to hang upon -every word that fell from the lips of the Prince of Montoni, as if he -were listening to a demigod. - -[Illustration] - -When the ladies had retired, the conversation turned upon political -matters; and the Earl of Ellingham questioned the Prince relative to -the condition of the Castelcicalans, whom report, newspapers, and -books represented to be in the highest possible state of civilisation -prosperity, and happiness. - -“His Sovereign Highness, my revered father-in-law,” said the Prince, -“has exerted himself in all possible ways to render his people -contented and flourishing. The task may seem to be difficult for a -monarch to undertake; but it really is not so. Honourable, upright, -and liberal-minded Ministers are to be found in all countries, if -the sovereign have but the discrimination to select them: indeed, a -Chamber of Deputies, rightly constituted, will be sure to indicate the -most efficient and trust-worthy men to whom the responsibilities of -government may be safely confided. Every man in Castelcicala, having a -habitation in which he may be said to be settled,--no matter whether it -be a house of his own, or a mere lodging,--has the right of suffrage. -The elections take place by ballot; and thus, considering that all save -absolute mendicants have the power of voting, and seeing likewise the -immense number of voters that there are, bribery is almost impossible. -But to ensure, as much as mortal means can, the purity of election, -any attempt at bribery or intimidation is counted a misdemeanor, and -is punished by a fine, imprisonment, and the loss of civil rights for -a period of seven years. Under these circumstances our elections take -place in an orderly, quiet, and honest manner: the people conduct -themselves with propriety, because they recognise the generous -confidence reposed in them by their sovereign, and endeavour to render -themselves worthy of it.” - -“When your Royal Highness liberated Castelcicala and opened the way for -the Grand Duke Alberto to the throne,” said Sir John Lascelles, who had -listened attentively to the Prince’s observations, “the Castelcicalans -were in a state of abject slavery. Were these boons of consummate -freedom conferred upon them in a moment?--and if so, were the people -prepared in any way to receive them?” - -“A nation in slavery, Sir John,” answered the Prince, “is like a body -in a condition of deep disease. Now, would you restore that body to -perfect health all in a moment, if you had the power?--or would you -only effect the restoration by slow and almost imperceptible degrees?” - -“As a conscientious and an honest man, I should of course adopt the -mode of instantaneous cure,” replied the physician. - -“Then, Sir John, your question whether the Castelcicalans were prepared -to receive the consummation of their freedom in a moment, is answered,” -said the Prince, smiling. “Believe me, those statesmen who talk of the -necessity of gradual reform are either weak and timid, or else in their -hearts opposed to the interests of the people. Freedom is a nation’s -right; and a right cannot be recognised too suddenly nor too frankly. -Were your fortune in the grasp of a rapacious monarch, should you be -contented by receiving it in small instalments according to his caprice -and good pleasure? No: certainly not! You would demand and expect to -receive the whole at once--and would consider yourself the victim of a -monstrous tyranny, were your claims refused, or ridiculed, or set at -naught. Yes, Sir John--the Castelcicalans obtained in a moment, as it -were, their emancipation from tyranny and oppression. Immediately after -His Sovereign Highness ascended the throne of that powerful State, he -promulgated a decree, not merely conceding universal suffrage as a -boon, but at once proclaiming it as the recognised right of the people. -He did not say, ‘_I give it to you_:’ but he said, ‘_I do not for an -instant attempt to withhold it_.’ The people saw that they were not -treated as children, but as a free and enlightened nation; and they -generously proffered gratitude, and testified their admiration and -respect for their monarch. The Chambers assembled in due time--both -Senators and Deputies being elected, and the principle of an hereditary -Peerage being totally eschewed. Not even is the President of the -Senate appointed by the Grand Duke: he is chosen by his compeers, as -is the President of the Chamber of Deputies. The Grand Duke pledged -himself to retain in power or to nominate only those Ministers whom -the parliamentary majority pointed out; and, accordingly, the Cabinet -which I had the honour to appoint during the period when I exercised -the functions of Regent, immediately after the battle of Montoni, has -remained in office ever since that time--because it is supported by -the majority. There is an Opposition in both Chambers,--an Opposition -consisting of the Aristocracy of the Old School, High Churchmen, and -a few very wealthy landowners; and indeed an Opposition is necessary -to all good government, because were measures passed by universal -acclamation, there would be no sifting of all their details to the very -bottom. The Progressist Ministry in Castelcicala is therefore rather -thankful to the Opposition than otherwise;--but the popular voice is -entirely in favour of the Ministerial party.” - -“The Grand Duke is therefore almost a cypher in Castelcicala?” observed -Sir John Lascelles. - -“Not so,” returned the Prince, mildly but firmly. “There must be -a chief magistrate--an executive--in every State; and he is that -chief magistrate. Do you suppose that the task of discriminating and -rewarding merit,--in patronising the arts and sciences,--in raising the -humble but deserving individual,--and in performing all the various -services to a country which the supreme ruler must ever have the -opportunity of doing,--do you not suppose, Sir John Lascelles, that -these are duties which render a good Prince any thing but a cypher? -It is true that Castelcicala has a Throne: but it is surrounded by -Republican Institutions;--and it matters very little whether Alberto be -called President, Grand Duke, Emperor, or King. There is nothing in the -name of the office: all that merits our attention is the extent of the -privileges of that office.” - -“But the sovereignty of Castelcicala is hereditary,” said Sir John -Lascelles; “and yet your Royal Highness is an opponent to the -hereditary peerage. If the principle be objectionable in the one -case----” - -“Pardon me for interrupting you, sir,” exclaimed the Prince: “but you -are arguing on a false premise. The hereditary principle is abolished -even in respect to the sovereignty. Alberto voluntarily abdicated this -dynastic privilege; and one of his first acts was to place his diadem -at the disposal of the Chambers. He told them that he was willing to -obey the sovereign will of the people. The Chambers confirmed him in -his high office; and of their own accord they honoured me by naming -me the heir-apparent to the throne. But the hereditary principle -is virtually annihilated; because one generation cannot bind its -successor; and the law which thus appointed me as the heir-apparent, -may be repealed by a new Chamber. It is monstrous to suppose that the -hereditary principle can be tolerated by a nation knowing its own power -and appreciating its own interests: for that principle may give you a -good sovereign to-day, and a tyrant, an idiot, or a degraded sensualist -to-morrow.” - -“I admit the force of your Royal Highness’s argument,” said Lascelles; -“and if I object, it is rather to seek information on these subjects -than to question the excellence of the system of government introduced -into Castelcicala. I would now deferentially seek to learn how far that -system has benefitted the people of your Highness’s adopted country?” - -“In the first place, Sir John,” returned the Prince, “the people have -the elections entirely in their own hands, and return to Parliament -representatives who do not buy their seats, but who are chosen on -account of their merits. At least, this observation applies to the -great majority of the Senators and Deputies. The elections take place -every two years; so that ample opportunity is allowed the constituents -of getting rid of persons who may chance to deceive them or prove -incapable; while a sufficient space of time is afforded for giving the -representatives a fair trial. The result of these arrangements is, -that the majority of the representatives legislate for the interests -of the mass--and not of the few. Good measures are the consequence; -and the happiness of the people is promoted, while civilisation -progresses rapidly, and the prosperity of the country increases daily. -My lord,” continued the Prince, turning towards the Earl of Ellingham, -“history has recorded the memorable speech which your lordship -delivered nineteen years ago in the House of Lords--the speech that -first introduced your lordship to the world as the generous defender, -vindicator, and champion of the People;--and it rejoices me unfeignedly -to be enabled to inform you, my noble friend--for so you will permit -me to call you--that the speech I allude to, and all your subsequent -orations on the same subject have been studied, weighed, and debated -upon in the Councils of the Sovereign of Castelcicala.” - -The Earl acknowledged the compliment in befitting terms; and the Prince -of Montoni continued in the following manner:-- - -“To prove to your lordship that it is no idle flattery--of which, -indeed, I am incapable--that I am now addressing to you, I will at -once inform you that every suggestion which your lordship’s first -and grandest oration contained, has been carried out with complete -success in Castelcicala. Anticipating the pleasure of being enabled -this evening to give your lordship some account of the condition of the -Castelcicalans, I had furnished myself with a copy of the memorable -speech to which I have already several times alluded; and I will now -explain in detail the results of your lordship’s views, as exemplified -in their application to the Grand Duchy.” - -The Prince produced a manuscript; and, spreading it before him, his -Royal Highness continued in the ensuing terms,--addressing himself to a -most attentive and delighted audience:-- - -“Your lordship stated that it was too frequently alleged that the -industrious classes are thoughtless, improvident, ungrateful, and -intellectually dull: but this assertion you emphatically denied; and -you proceeded to reason thus:--‘Despair, produced by their unhappy -condition, naturally led to dissipation in many instances; but were -the working man placed in a position so that his livelihood should be -rendered less precarious than it now was--were his labour adequately -remunerated--were he more fairly paid by the representatives of -property--were a scale of wages established, having a fixed minimum, -but no fixed maximum, the increased comfort thus ensured to him would -naturally remove from his mind those cares which drove him to the -public-house.’--Well, my lord and gentlemen,” continued the Prince, -“the suggestion has been adopted in Castelcicala: a fixed minimum for -wages has been established--the lowest amount of payment ensuring -a sum sufficient to enable the working man to maintain himself and -his family in respectability. The results may almost be said to have -been instantaneous. Crime diminished rapidly: statistical returns -soon proved that intemperance experienced a remarkable decrease; -and such was the falling off in the consumption of spirituous -liquors, beer, and tobacco, that the Government found it necessary -to grant a compensation to the licensed victuallers, publicans, and -tobacconists who suffered by this change in the habits of the people. -Even _employers_ speedily began to recognise the advantage of the -new state of things in the improved condition of their _employed_, -the increase and the excellence of the labour they obtained, and the -superiority of their agriculture or their manufactures. No _maximum_ -of wages has been fixed in Castelcicala; and when I left the country -a month ago, those wages were higher than ever they were known to be -before. The demand for labour has greatly increased; and, though the -territory be densely populated, employment may be found for all. If a -man be now a pauper or mendicant in Castelcicala, it must be either -through physical infirmity, or through his unwillingness to work. Of -this latter, however, we have comparatively few examples--emulation -and patriotism acting powerfully in a country where so much happiness -and such prosperity prevail. Now, with a slight alteration in your -lordship’s speech, one of the most remarkable passages in that speech -reads thus when applied to Castelcicala:--‘There is no fixed _maximum_ -of wages, because wages are always to be increased in proportion to -the value of productive labour to employers: but there is a _minimum_ -established, to obviate the cruel and disastrous effects of those -periods when labour exceeds the demand in the market. This is not -considered unfair towards employers, because when the markets are -brisk and trade is flourishing, they (the employers) reap the greatest -benefit from that activity, and enrich themselves in a very short -time; therefore, when markets are dull and trade is stagnant, they are -still compelled to pay such wages as enable their employed to live -comfortably. The profits gained during prosperous seasons not only -enable employers to enjoy handsome incomes, but also to accumulate -considerable savings; and as the best wages scarcely enable the -employed to make any thing like an adequate provision for periods of -distress, it is not deemed fair that the representatives of property -should use the labour of the working classes just when it suits them, -and discard it or only use it on a miserable recompense when it does -not so well suit them. For the labour of the employed not only makes -annual incomes for the employers, but also permanent fortunes; and -the value of that labour is not calculated as lasting only just as -long as it is available for the purpose of producing large profits. -Labour is recognised in Castelcicala and positively stated to be the -working man’s _capital_, and bears constant interest, as well as money -placed in the funds--that interest of course increasing in proportion -to the briskness of markets; but never depreciating below a standard -value--much less being discarded as valueless altogether, in times of -depression. A thousand pounds always obtains three per cent. interest, -under any circumstances; and, at particular periods, is worth six or -seven per cent. Labour is considered by the Castelcicalans in the -same light. Stagnant markets diminish the profits of employers, but -do not ruin them: if they do not obtain profit enough to live upon, -they have the accumulations of good seasons to fall back upon. But how -different used to be the case with the employed! To them stagnation -of business was ruin--starvation--death;--the breaking up of their -little homes--the sudden check of their children’s education--the cause -of demoralisation and degradation--and the necessity of applying to -the parish! All these terrible evils have been completely annihilated -by the system introduced into Castelcicala. The supply and demand of -labour are necessarily unequal at many times, and in many districts; -and the Government has therefore adopted measures to prevent those -frightful fluctuations in wages which carry desolation into the homes -of thousands of hard-working, industrious, and deserving families. -In fact, a law has been passed to ensure the working-man against the -casualty of being employed at a price below remuneration.’--Thus, my -lord, you perceive that so far your views have been most successfully -carried out: they are no longer a theory--I have seen them reduced to -positive practice; and I pledge myself most solemnly and sacredly to -the admirable working of this enlightened reformatory system.” - -“Would that I could see my own fellow-countrymen rendered thus -happy--raised thus high in the social sphere--and thus tenderly cared -for by their rulers!” exclaimed Lord Ellingham, in the impassioned tone -of the most earnest and heart-felt sincerity. - -“The day must come,” observed the Prince of Montoni, “when the English -people will recognise all the grand truths which you enunciated -nineteen years ago from your place in the House of Lords. And, if in -England you have failed to convince the aristocracy and the landowners -of the wickedness of the course they are pursuing,--are not your -labours in some degree rewarded by the knowledge that your lordship’s -plans have been carried out to the very letter in the Grand Duchy of -Castelcicala,--yes, and carried out too with such unequivocal success?” - -“The information which your Royal Highness now imparts, gives me the -most unfeigned pleasure,” said the Earl. “I had indeed read and heard -of the recent grand improvements which had taken place in that Italian -State where there is a Throne surrounded by Republican Institutions: -but I was not aware--indeed, the loftiest flights of vanity never -could have suggested to me that my views and theories had in any way -contributed to the prosperity of the MODEL STATE, as the Liberals in -England now denominate Castelcicala.” - -“To convince you, my lord, how far your ideas have been applied to -the elevation of Castelcicala to its present proud eminence,” said -the Prince, “I will again refer to a passage in your lordship’s ever -memorable speech, and point a few contrasts. ‘In England the poor -are not allowed to have a stake in the country:’ I have shown you -that the very reverse is the case in the Grand Duchy. ‘In England -there are no small properties: the land is in the possession of a few -individuals comparatively; and thus the landed interest constitutes -a tremendous monopoly, most unjust and oppressive to the industrious -classes.’--In Castelcicala the law of primogeniture is annihilated; -there no man can leave his estate solely to his eldest son; it must -be divided amongst all his male children equally, a charge being -fixed upon it for the support of his daughters. Thus the territory is -rapidly undergoing a process of sub-division, which admits thousands -to the enjoyment of a real stake in the country, and breaks down the -tremendous monopoly of the landed interest. In Castelcicala, moreover, -‘property is compelled to maintain labour as long as labour seeks -for employment and occupation.’ What now, then, is the condition of -the Castelcicalan people? Being well treated, rendered free, and -having every possible avenue opened to them for the attainment of -real property, ‘the working-classes are not driven by their cares and -troubles to the excessive use of alcoholic liquors; they do not become -demoralized by being compelled to migrate from place to place in search -of employment--they are not forced to go upon the tramp, sleeping -in hideous dens of vice, where numbers are forced to herd together -without reference to age or sex: they are not unsettled in all their -little arrangements to bring up their children creditably and with due -reference to instruction;--they are not made discontented, anxious for -any change no matter what, vindictive towards a society which renders -them outcasts, and sullen or reckless in their general conduct.’--On -the contrary, they feel settled in their condition; they know that the -cottage which constitutes their home, is not held upon a precarious -tenure: they never feel the sickening conviction that if they have -bread and meat to-day, they may have only bread to-morrow, and no food -at all the day after. The industrious classes in Castelcicala are no -longer the mere slaves and tools of the wealthy classes: they are no -longer retained in bondage--no longer kept in absolute serfdom by an -oligarchy. I now pass to another subject,” said the Prince: “and here -again I refer to the speech of the Earl of Ellingham--applying to -Castelcicala the observations which he used in reference to England. -The Castelcicalan industrious classes, then, ‘were ground down by -indirect taxes, in which shape they actually contributed more to -the revenue, in proportion to their means, than the rich. The only -luxuries which the poor enjoyed, and which had become as it were -necessaries--namely, tea, sugar, tobacco, beer, and spirits,--were -the most productive sources of revenue. If aristocrats reproached the -poor for dirty habits, as he well knew that it was their custom to do, -he would ask them why soap was made an article subject to so heavy a -tax? It was a contemptible fallacy to suppose that because the poor -contributed little or nothing in the shape of direct taxation to the -revenue, they were positively untaxed. The real fact was that the poor -paid more in direct taxes than the rich did in both direct and in -indirect ways, when the relative means of the two parties were taken -into consideration.’--Such was the state of the industrious classes of -Castelcicala until their voice was heard in the legislative assemblies; -and all taxes upon the necessaries of life were speedily removed. -Luxuries alone were left to bear the weight of taxation--the duties -upon carriages, livery servants, armorial bearings, hunters, racers, -hounds, and foreign wines being doubled.” - -The Prince of Montoni paused; and the Earl of Ellingham exchanged -a rapid but significant glance with Mr. Hatfield--for they both -remembered the time when, nineteen years previously, and when the -latter lay on the bed in Old Death’s house, they had conversed upon the -best means of ameliorating the condition of the suffering millions. - -His Royal Highness, finding that his auditors were most anxious that -he should continue his explanations, and perceiving that Sir John -Lascelles had become especially interested therein, resumed his subject -in the following manner:-- - -“The inequality of the laws, and their incongruity, severity, and -injustice towards the poor, long constituted a crying evil in -Castelcicala. ‘Every advantage was given to the rich in the way of -procuring bail in those cases where security for personal appearance -was required; but no poor man could possibly give such security. -He must go to prison, and there herd with felons of the blackest -dye. Perhaps on trial his innocence would transpire; and then what -recompense had he for his long incarceration--his home broken up during -his absence--and his ruined family? It was possible--nay, it often -happened that a man would lie thus in prison for four or five months -previously to trial; and during that period it would be strange indeed -if he escaped gaol contamination.’--In order to remedy these evils, -vast facilities were afforded in respect to bail, the respectability -and not the monied qualifications of the sureties being considered. -Thus a working man may be bailed by any two of his associates who can -obtain a good character from their employer: this of course applies -to charges of a lighter kind, heavier responsibility being required -where a serious accusation is involved. But even should an accused -have to go to prison until his trial, he is not placed in a felons’ -gaol: he is not, while still untried, subjected to that indignity -and contamination. He is confined in a building having no connexion -with a prison, and termed _A House of Detention_. Again, the judges -have the power to order a compensation to every one whose innocence -transpires on trial; and I must inform you that the trial may take -place as soon after committal as the individual chooses. All depends -on the speed which he makes in getting up his defence. When committed, -he is asked if he have the means of retaining counsel: if he prove to -the magistrate that he is poor, a barrister is immediately provided -for him. The trial may come on the very next day; for there are local -Courts throughout the Grand Duchy, and these courts have no recess--no -holiday. Were I, on my return to Castelcicala, to inform a person not -well acquainted with English laws and customs, that in this very same -enlightened England a man may languish several months in a common gaol -awaiting his trial, I should scarcely be believed.” - -“And what is the nature of the punishments inflicted in the country of -your Royal Highness’s adoption?” enquired Sir John Lascelles. - -“I will tell you,” said the Prince. “In the first place we have -abolished the punishment of death, as barbarian, un-Christian, and -demoralizing. Murder is punished by imprisonment for life; and -imprisonment, fine, confiscation of property in the cases of single -men having no persons dependent on them, and the loss of civil -rights--these are the penalties used amongst us. The individual who is -condemned to imprisonment, is not on that account rendered an useless -member of society. Every criminal gaol is an assemblage of workshops -where all trades and manufactures are carried on; and each prisoner -must work at his own trade, or be taught one. If he have a family -out-of-doors, his earnings go to support that family: if he have none, -they accumulate until the day of his release. Should he refuse to work, -he is put upon bread and water; and this fare soon compels him to adopt -habits of industry in order to obtain plentiful and wholesome meals. -Castelcicalan prisons resemble vast factories rather than gaols; and -so admirable--so salutary--so reformatory is the discipline maintained -in them, that a prisoner on his emancipation finds no difficulty in -obtaining work again. Employers consider, in such a case, that he has -expiated an offence which should not be remembered to his prejudice; -and he begins the world again with a new character. He has, as it -were, passed through a criminal bankruptcy court, and obtained his -certificate. Should he, however, experience any difficulty in finding -employment, the local authorities are bound to supply him with work at -the average rate of wages. The results of all these arrangements are -striking. In the first place, a Castelcicalan prison is reformatory -instead of being a sink of contaminating iniquity: secondly, a man on -leaving a criminal gaol, is not forced back into the ways of vice. If -he relapse, it must be through determined wickedness: but relapses are -very, very rare in the Grand Duchy--for happily those individuals are -few who remain in the ways of crime for crime’s sake! And now, my lord, -you will perceive how far the framers of all these salutary enactments -respecting prisoners and prison discipline, were indebted to the -following passage in your speech:--‘The criminal laws of England are -only calculated to produce widely spread demoralization--to propagate -vice--to render crime terribly prolific. A man no matter what his -offence may have been--should be deemed innocent and untainted again, -when he has paid the penalty of his misdeeds; because to brand a human -being eternally, is to fly in the face of the Almighty and assert that -there should be no such thing as forgiveness, and that there is no such -thing as repentance. But the nature of punishments in England is so to -brand the individual, and so to dare the majesty of heaven. For the -gaols are perfect nests of infamy--sinks of iniquity, imprisonment in -which necessarily fastens an indelible stigma upon the individual. He -either comes forth tainted; or else it is supposed that he must be so. -Under these circumstances, he vainly endeavours to obtain employment; -and, utterly failing in his attempt to earn an honest livelihood, he -is compelled perforce to relapse into habits of crime and lawlessness. -This fact accounts for an immense amount of the demoralization which -the Bishops so much deplore, but the true causes of which they -obstinately refuse to acknowledge. The criminal gaols are moral -pest-houses, in which no cures are effected, but where the contagious -malady becomes more virulent. Society should not immure offenders -solely for the sake of punishment--but with a view to reformation of -character.’” - -“Castelcicala has the honour of having taken the initiative in all the -great and glorious reforms which you suggested,” said Mr. Hatfield, -turning with admiration towards the Earl of Effingham. “In England -reform is much talked of; and when a small concession is made--for a -_concession_ it is in this country, to all intents and purposes--the -people congratulate themselves as if their complete emancipation were -at hand.” - -“There is a passage in the Earl’s speech,” resumed the Prince, “which -particularly struck the Grand Duke and the Ministers when they were -deliberating upon the proposed reforms and ameliorations to be -introduced to the Chambers. That passage ran thus:--‘When a poor man -is oppressed by a rich one, it is vain and ludicrous to assert that -the Courts of Law are open to him: law is a luxury in which only those -who possess ample means can indulge. In a case where some grievous -injury is sustained by a poor man--the seduction of his wife or -daughter, for instance--redress or recompense is impossible, unless -some attorney takes up the case on speculation; and this is a practice -most demoralizing and pernicious. But if left entirely unassisted in -that respect, the poor man can no more go to Westminster Hall than he -can afford to dine at Long’s Hotel.’--Now in Castelcicala, a plan has -been adopted which seems to meet the difficulties set forth in the -Earl of Ellingham’s speech, and which does not involve the additional -danger of rendering law so cheap as to encourage litigation in every -paltry quarrel. To every Local Court are attached officers denominated -the _Peoples’ Attorneys-General_; and any poor man having a ground -of complaint against a neighbour, addresses himself to one of those -officers, who immediately examines into the affair, and if he see -that the plaint be well founded, he prosecutes on behalf of the poor -man. These officers are paid fixed salaries by the Government, and -dare not take fees. They are selected with care, and are as incapable -of bribery as the judges themselves;--and thus every means is taken -to guarantee the poor man justice. Seduction and adultery are not -made mere pecuniary matters in Castelcicala: they are punished by -imprisonment;--and the penalty is very heavy in a case where a rich -man debauches a poor man’s daughter. I now pass on to the subject -of Education; and your treatment of this subject, my dear Earl, in -your speech, is not the least remarkable portion of the oration. -You declared that ‘it was positively shocking to think that such -care should be taken to convert negroes to Christianity thousands of -miles off, while the most deplorable ignorance prevailed at home. -The Church enjoys revenues the amount of which actually bring the -ministers of the gospel into discredit, as evidencing their avaricious -and grasping disposition;--while the people remain as uneducated as -if not a single shilling were devoted to spiritual pastors or lay -instructors.’ You boldly ‘accused both houses of Parliament and the -upper classes generally of being anxious to keep the masses in a -state of ignorance. Where instruction is imparted gratuitously, it -is entirely of a sectarian nature; just as if men required to study -grammar, history, arithmetic, or astronomy on Church of England -principles. The whole land is over-run by clergymen, who live upon the -fat of it--Universities and public schools have been richly endowed for -the purpose of propagating knowledge and encouraging learning,--and -yet the people are lamentably ignorant. It is a wicked and impudent -falsehood to declare that they are intellectually dull or averse to -mental improvement. Common sense--that best of sense--is the special -characteristic of the working classes; and those who can read are -absolutely greedy in their anxiety to procure books, newspapers, and -cheap publications for perusal. The fact is, that the mind of the -industrious population is a rich soil, wherein all good seed will -speedily take root, shoot up, and bring forth fruit to perfection: -but the apprehensions or narrow prejudices of the upper classes--the -oligarchy--will not permit the seed to be sown. Now as the soil must -naturally produce something, even of its own accord, it too often gives -birth to rank weeds; and this is made a matter of scorn, reviling, -and reproach. But the real objects of that scorn--that reviling--and -that reproach, are those who obstinately and wickedly neglect to -put the good soil to the full test of fertilisation.’--All these -observations,” continued his Royal Highness, “were as applicable to -Castelcicala a short time back as they have ever been and still are in -England. But the reforms in the Church and in the Educational System -were not the least important of those which characterised the new -order of things. The two institutions were separated, and rendered -entirely independent of each other, the Church being abandoned entirely -to the voluntary principle, and the duty of educating the people -being attached to the State, a Minister of Public Instruction being -appointed. All sectarianism in education is now abolished: the system -is entirely secular. The schoolmasters are appointed by the municipal -corporations in the various localities, and their salaries are paid by -the State. They are all laymen; for it is now a principle established -in the Grand Duchy that parents shall train up their children in the -creed which they may prefer. Thus Protestants, Catholics, and Jews -all receive the blessings and benefits of the secular education; no -tampering with religious opinions--no proselytism being permitted. The -whole scheme is on the broadest basis of liberality; and the people -are delighted with its working. As for the Church, it is entirely -separated from the State; and the order of Bishops has been suppressed. -The Catholic religion is still that of the great majority: but it is -shorn of its pomp; and ecclesiastical ostentation and vain display -have received a blow which they will never recover. The result is, -that the Christian creed has been restored to something resembling its -primitive simplicity, and such as its Divine Founder intended. I have -now, my lord and gentlemen, given you a hasty, but I hope intelligible -sketch of the condition of Castelcicala at the present day; and it only -remains for me to sum up the reforms which have been accomplished, -and which completely carry out the views and the theories so ably -propounded by you, my dear Earl, nineteen years ago. In the first -place, there is a Throne surrounded by Republican Institutions; and -the hereditary principle as well as the law of primogeniture have been -annihilated--never to be revived. Then, we have adopted ‘a _minimum_ -rate of wages, to prevent the sudden fluctuation of such wages, and to -compel property to give constant employment to labour:--indirect taxes -upon the necessaries of life have been abolished;--the laws and their -administration are equitably proportioned to the relative conditions -of the rich and the poor;--a general system of national education -has been established, and intrusted to laymen, totally distinct from -religious instruction and sectarian tenets;--a complete reformation in -the system of prison discipline has taken place; and establishments -have been founded for the purpose of affording work to persons upon -leaving criminal gaols, as a means of their obtaining an honest -livelihood and retrieving their characters prior to seeking employment -for themselves;--and the franchise has been so extended as to give -every man who earns his own bread by the sweat of his brow, a stake and -interest in the country’s welfare.’” - -The Prince ceased speaking; and those who had been his auditors -expressed their sincerest thanks for the gratifying explanations he -had given them with so much readiness and affability. Nor less were -they charmed to find that a truly liberal and enlightened system -of policy would stand such remarkable tests, and work so well. The -question, whether the nations of Europe are civilised enough to receive -Republican Institutions, was completely solved, to their satisfaction; -and even Sir John Lascelles, who was somewhat tainted with the -doctrines of the Old School, acknowledged himself to be a convert. - -The party then joined the ladies in the drawing-room where political -subjects gave way to discourse upon less serious topics;--and when the -company took their departure, the inmates of the lordly mansion did -not separate to retire to their respective chambers until they had -exchanged many enthusiastic comments upon the character, disposition, -talents, and bearing of his Royal Highness, the Prince of Montoni. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXIV. - -A PAINFUL SCENE. - - -We deemed it advisable to break as little as possible, by comment or -extraneous explanation, the thread of the Prince of Montoni’s discourse -upon the reform that had been introduced into the Grand Duchy of -Castelcicala. We therefore refrained from giving any account of the -manner in which Charles Hatfield listened, and received--or rather, -greedily drank in--the narrative of his Royal Highness. - -To say that the young man heard with enthusiasm, were to convey but -a feeble idea of his emotions as he hung upon every sentence--every -word, that fell from the lips of the Earl’s illustrious guest:--when, -however, we declare that even Perdita’s image fell into the back-ground -of his mind, during the whole time that the Prince was discoursing, our -readers may form some notion of the nature of that impression which was -made upon him. - -On retiring to his chamber at about one o’clock in the morning, Charles -Hatfield thought not of seeking his couch: but, throwing himself into -an arm-chair, he gave way to the agitating--conflicting--turbulent -ideas which had been excited in his soul. - -“The modesty of the Prince,” he thought, “concealed the fact that -nearly all the reforms which he detailed, were suggested by himself. -Oh! what would I give to be enabled to raise myself to eminence in -the world! Twenty years of my life?--Ah! yes--willingly--willingly -would I yield up a quarter of my probable existence to gain a name, -honoured and renowned as that of the Prince of Montoni! And is not rank -within my grasp? Can I not in a moment--by the waving of my hand, as it -were--place upon my brow the coronet of a Viscount? May I not yet stand -before the world as the heir-apparent to the Earldom of Ellingham? -Yes;--and if once I find my way into the supreme legislative assembly, -shall I not be enabled to advocate the cause of the People, and -obtain a glorious renown? It were trifling with my own interests--it -were wronging myself, to abstain from asserting my just rights! If -my father choose to remain a simple commoner and allow his younger -brother to wear the honours and hold the estates of a proud Earldom, am -I to be bound by his will? No--no: and my father acts not a parent’s -part towards me in thus keeping me in obscurity. ’Tis clear that my -sire’s early life renders him desirous to shun all circumstances that -may attract attention towards him: ’tis clear--my God! how dreadful -to think of!--’tis clear, I say, that he feels the impropriety of a -highwayman laying claim to a lordly title! Oh! the sins of the father -are indeed visited on the child in my case! But I am innocent: my life -has been spotless and pure--my character is untarnished. Wherefore -should I suffer for my parent’s crimes? It is unjust--most unjust; and -even filial duty, in its best and holiest sense, cannot compel me to -renounce the distinctions to which by birth I am the heir! No--no: a -young man of my ambition--my talents--my feelings--my burning hopes, -must not immolate himself for the sake of a father who acts unjustly -towards him. For how stands the case between us? The question is -whether a parent should make any and every sacrifice for his child; or -whether the child must make all possible sacrifices for his father. In -asserting his rights, claiming his title, and thereby enabling me to -assume my own, he doubtless would have to make a sacrifice: he must -declare who he is--my God!--the Resuscitated Highwayman! But, on the -other hand, in consenting to keep his secret, do I not wilfully blind -myself to my own interests--wantonly thrust aside those opportunities -of gaining distinction and acquiring renown which are within my -reach--crush with suicidal hand the glorious aspirations which I have -formed--and purposely trample on all the hopes that are developing -themselves before me?” - -Charles Hatfield rose--paced the room in an agitated manner--then, -reseating himself, again plunged into his ominous reflections. - -“I have read that those who yield to the influence of false -sentimentalism, never rise in the world. He who would attain to the -pinnacle of eminence, must harden his heart,--even as did Napoleon, -when he put away from him that charming Josephine who loved him with -such pure and fervid devotion. Yes--family, kith, and kindred must -be sacrificed--all sacrificed--by him who follows the dictates of -his ambition. And yet--and yet, did not Richard Markham rise by his -virtues, as much as by his talents and heroism, to that eminence which -enabled him to take his place amongst the mightiest Princes of Europe? -Oh! but _he_ had opportunities which may never occur again--he is -the one in the thousand whom Fortune takes by the hand. If I remain -obscure--unknown--plain _Mr. Charles Hatfield_--I am but an unit amidst -the millions which, constitute the mass called _the People_. But if I -suddenly stand forth as a Viscount, and the heir of a wealthy Earldom, -shall I not at once be placed in a position to carve out a career for -myself? Oh! how glorious--how thrilling would it be, to have the power -of saying to my Perdita, ‘_Beautiful angel! I am not the obscure young -man I appear to be: in me behold Viscount Marston, the heir to the -Earldom of Ellingham!_’ Ah! Perdita, then would you feel honoured in -my love--and I should not be compelled to evince my gratitude to thee -for loving me! Charming, adorable Perdita--thine image is coupled with -the bright dream of ambition that now animates me;--for when I shall -have distinguished myself in the Senate, how delicious will it be to -see thee welcome with pride and admiration my return to thine arms,--to -behold thy fine eyes fixed upon me, eloquently proclaiming how proud -thou art to own the love of a man who is filling the world with his -fame! Yes--I must assert my rights:--but how? Oh! I will confide all -to Perdita--and she possesses a mind so strong and an intellect so -powerful, that she will assist me with her counsel in this difficulty. -And it will be so sweet to receive advice from her lips--so delightful -to mark the interest which she will take in my affairs!” - -Again he rose from his seat: for a sudden thought had struck -him--accompanied by a severe pang,--a pang that went through his heart -like a barbed arrow. - -“My mother!--my poor mother!” he murmured to himself: “Oh! what a blow -will it be to _her_ if I compel my father--compel her husband--to -assert his claims to the Earldom of Ellingham! And yet--was I not for -years neglected by her?--did she care for me--did she even have me to -dwell with her during my infancy? No--no: I was abandoned to the woman -Watts;--and had I become a thief in the streets--a prowling, houseless -vagabond--my mother would have been to blame!” - -Thus was it that this young man, having imbibed from Perdita the art -and facility of sophistical reasoning,--thus was it that he crushed all -the naturally generous feelings of his soul, and struggled desperately -to subdue the promptings of his really good disposition. - -Love and ambition produced these baneful effects! - -But his love,--was it a pure and honest love inspired by a virtuous -being?--or was it a frenzy engendered and sustained by a depraved and -designing woman endowed with the most glorious beauty? - -And his ambition,--was it that fine spirit of emulation which warms the -generous heart, and prompts the enlightened mind to seek distinction -for the sake of being enabled, by means of influence and high position, -to benefit the human race?--or was it a selfish craving after rank and -power, in order to enjoy the sweets of applause, become the object of -servile flattery, and obtain the honour ever shown in this country to -sounding titles and a proud aristocracy? - -The reader can answer these questions for himself. - -Having passed nearly two hours in the wild reverie which suggested -schemes so menacing in their nature to his own and his parents’ -happiness, Charles Hatfield retired to rest;--and in his dreams he -beheld a variety of scenes and images, incongruously grouped and -confusedly jumbled together,--the voluptuous form of Perdita stretched -in a witching undress on the sofa, and extending her arms to welcome -him to her embraces,--the Marshal Prince of Montoni, seated on -horseback, surrounded by a brilliant staff,--thousands and thousands of -persons gathered together to witness the passing of a gay cavalcade, -of which he fancied himself to be the leader as well as the hero of the -occasion,--and then his father and mother kneeling and weeping at his -feet, and proffering some prayer to which he refused to accede. Then he -thought that he was roving in a delicious garden, where the singing of -birds, the hues of the flowers, and the fragrance of aromatic shrubs -made every thing delightful to the senses, and where Perdita was his -companion. She appeared to be clad in the loose and scanty drapery -which heathen goddesses are represented to wear,--fastened by a clasp -on the left shoulder, flowing so as to leave the right bosom entirely -bare, and confined by a zone to the waist. Airily, airily they tripped -along together, until they beheld a temple standing at a distance: -then Perdita suddenly assumed the majesty of a queen--and conducting -her lover to a shrine within the temple, made him kneel down while she -crowned him with a wreath of flowers, while unseen minstrels poured -forth a strain of delicious music. - -Under the influence of this last dream he awoke;--and the image of -Perdita still remained uppermost in his mind. - -Then as he performed the functions of the toilette, he reconsidered -all the arguments and plans--repeated to himself all the sophistical -reasoning--into which he had fallen before he retired to rest;--and, -hardening his heart in respect to his parents,--yes, and hardening it, -too, with regard to Lady Frances Ellingham,--he resolved to sacrifice -all and every thing to the two idols of his soul--ambition and Perdita! - -In this frame of mind he descended to the breakfast-parlour, where the -Earl and Countess of Ellingham, Lady Frances, Mr. Hatfield, and Lady -Georgiana were already assembled. Charles assumed as gay an appearance -as possible: for he was resolved to mask his knowledge of all the -family secrets as well as his sinister designs, until he should have -consulted with Perdita. But in spite of himself, there was a certain -constraint and embarrassment in his manner when he spoke to Lady -Frances; and this artless, beautiful young creature surveyed him with -astonishment and grief. - -The fact was that the heart of Charles Hatfield smote him for the vile -and perfidious part he had enacted towards his cousin; and he scarcely -dared to look her in the face. - -Her parents and his own, as well as she herself, noticed the -peculiarity of his demeanour in this respect; and Lady Georgiana was -so affected by his apparent coolness towards the Earl’s daughter that -it was with difficulty she could restrain herself from questioning -him then and there on the subject. A hasty whisper, however, from her -husband sealed her tongue and gave her the assurance that he would soon -ascertain the cause of their son’s altered behaviour towards the young -lady who was already looked upon as his future wife. - -Accordingly, when the morning repast was concluded, Mr. Hatfield -beckoned his son to follow him to the library; and now Charles was -struck with a sudden fear--conscience exciting the apprehension -that his schemings were discovered and seen through by an outraged, -indignant father. - -On entering the library, Mr. Hatfield motioned him to take a seat near -him: then, fixing his eyes upon the young man’s countenance, he said, -“Charles, has any misunderstanding occurred between Lady Frances and -yourself?” - -“No--not that I am aware of,” returned Charles, considerably relieved -by the question that indicated the nature of the colloquy which it -opened. “Wherefore should you entertain such an idea?” - -“Because your manner towards Lady Frances at the breakfast-table was -cool, constrained, and embarrassed,” said Mr. Hatfield. “She herself -noticed the circumstance; and I observed that Lord and Lady Ellingham -were pained by it likewise. As for your mother, Charles--she was deeply -grieved; and I was both hurt and annoyed.” - -“I am sorry, my dear father--but--but, I was not aware of any -difference in my demeanour towards her ladyship,” stammered Charles, -unskilled as yet in the arts of duplicity and guile. - -“My son--my dear son, do not attempt to deceive me!” exclaimed Mr. -Hatfield, emphatically. “Lady Frances, in the artlessness of her -soul--in the confiding candour of her amiable nature--yesterday -acquainted her mother, the Countess of Ellingham, with all that had -taken place between yourself and her in the morning. You made her an -offer of your hand, in pursuance of the counsel which I gave you;--and -her parents will cheerfully yield an assent to your suit. Indeed, the -Earl expected to see you on the subject yesterday afternoon; but it -appears that immediately after your interview with Lady Frances, you -went out and remained absent for some hours. How you dispose of your -time, it is not for me to enquire: you are of an age when you are -entitled to be your own master. But this I implore of you,--lose no -time in seeking a private interview with the Earl, and soliciting him -to accord you the hand of his daughter. ’Tis a mere ceremony which -a parent, and a personage of his standing, naturally expects you to -perform;--and I promise you that there is no chance of a refusal.” - -“My dear father,” said Charles, the natural candour of his nature -asserting its empire; “I was too hasty in proposing to Lady Frances. -Would to God that I could recall the step I thus rashly took!” - -Mr. Hatfield surveyed his son in profound astonishment for nearly a -minute: then, breaking forth indignantly, he exclaimed, “What, sir! you -have dared to trifle with the affections of an amiable and accomplished -girl?--you decline a match which is so desirable in every point of -view, and on which your mother’s heart is set?” - -“I must decline the honour of this alliance,” answered the young man, -speaking with a courage which even surprised himself. - -“Do you know, Charles,” demanded his father, with on utterance almost -suffocated by indescribable emotions,--“do you know that your conduct -is that of a villain? And shall it be said that you--_you_, a young man -of whom such lofty expectations have been formed----” - -“By whom have these expectations been formed?” suddenly cried the -rebellious son, his choler rising as all his wrongs, real or imaginary, -rushed to his mind,--those wrongs which he believed himself to have -received and to be still enduring at the hands of his parents. - -“By whom?” repeated Mr. Hatfield, much pained by the tone, words, and -manner of the young man. “By whom should such hopes be experienced, -save by your parents?” - -“My parents!” cried Charles, with withering irony. “Wherefore am I not -acknowledged as your son?--why do you not proclaim yourselves to be my -parents? Was not the discovery on my part a matter of mere chance?--and -should I not have been kept for ever ignorant of the fact, had not an -accident revealed it to me?” - -[Illustration] - -“Oh! my God!--this is retribution!” murmured Mr. Hatfield, bowing -himself down, and covering his face with his hands. - -At that moment the door opened--and Lady Georgiana, pale as death and -scarcely able to support herself on her tottering limbs, made her -appearance. - -Unable to endure the state of suspense in which she had been plunged -relative to the altered manner of her son towards Lady Frances at the -breakfast-table,--and having a vague presentiment that some unpleasant -scene was occurring between him and her husband in the library,--she -had determined to repair thither and relieve herself at once from an -uncertainty that was intolerable. But upon reaching the door she heard -Charles talking loudly and bitterly: she instinctively paused;--and -those terrible questions which he addressed to his father, smote upon -_her_ ear like the voice of the Angel of Death. - -Staggering into the room, she mechanically closed the door behind -her; and then leant against it for support. Her fine--her handsome -countenance denoted the most poignant anguish: it was absolutely -distorted--while a frightful pallor overspread it. - -“My mother--my dear mother!” exclaimed Charles, bounding towards -her;--for his soul was touched by the pitiable appearance which she -presented to his view. - -“Just heaven! Charles--what have you said to your father!” she asked, -in a tone of despair;--and flinging herself into her son’s arms, she -gave vent to a flood of tears. - -“I implore your pardon, my dear parents, if in a moment of haste and -impatience I said aught that can give you offence,” exclaimed the young -man: “but I was not master of my emotions--for you, my father, had -termed me a _villain_!” - -“Let us not recriminate,” said Mr. Hatfield, rising and taking his -son by the hand, Lady Georgiana having in the meantime sunk into the -chair to which Charles conducted her. “I was wrong to address you thus -harshly: but your refusal to form an alliance with Lady Frances, to -whom you only yesterday imparted a confession of attachment----” - -“O Charles! is it possible that your parents are to experience such -bitterness of disappointment as this?” exclaimed Lady Georgiana, -turning a look of appeal--of earnest appeal--upon her son. “You know -not how profound will be my sorrow if you thus enact a perfidious part -towards Lady Frances Ellingham!” - -“Would you have me wed when my heart is not fixed?” demanded Charles, -warmly. “I laboured under a delusion: I fancied that I loved Lady -Frances as one whom I should wish to make my wife--but I now find -that it was only with the affection of a brother or of a very sincere -friend that I in reality regarded her! Yesterday morning you, my dear -father, entered my chamber, at a moment when the confusion of ideas -caused by unpleasant dreams was scarcely dissipated;--you urged me to -confess an attachment to Lady Frances--to seek her hand;--and I obeyed -you! But I acted under an impulse for which I could not account;--I -yielded to some unknown influence which I could not resist. And yet it -was not love, my dear parents;--no--it was not love! In making Lady -Frances my wife I should only ensure the unhappiness of an excellent--a -beautiful--an accomplished girl----” - -“You admit all her admirable qualities, Charles,” interrupted his -mother; “and yet you refuse to avail yourself of an opportunity to -secure so precious a prize--to link your fortunes with one who is -certain to make the best of wives!” - -“It is truly incomprehensible!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, whose knowledge -of the world and large experience of the human heart convinced him that -there was something more at the bottom of his son’s conduct than the -alleged reasons for so abruptly breaking off a match that, he thought, -must appear in every way so eligible and advantageous to the young man. - -“My dear parents, this scene is most painful to us all,” said Charles, -who, glancing rapidly at the time-piece upon the mantel, saw that the -hour was approaching for his to visit Perdita. - -His father, observing that impatient look cast towards the clock, -instantly comprehended that his son had some appointment to keep; -and connecting this discovery with the strangeness of his conduct in -respect to Lady Frances, it flashed to his mind in a moment that the -young man had formed some attachment elsewhere. - -“Charles,” he accordingly said, turning abruptly towards his son and -looking him full in the face, “you love another?” - -The young man became red as scarlet, and stammered out a few -unintelligible words, which his father soon cut short. - -“Now we have discovered the truth! But surely you have formed no -unworthy attachment?--surely you cannot love one whom you are ashamed -to name?” cried Mr. Hatfield. - -“Speak, Charles--speak! Answer your father!” said Lady Georgiana, in an -imploring tone, as she perceived her son turn away towards the mantel. - -For rebellious thoughts again rose in the mind of the young man;--and -he felt hurt and vexed that his conduct should thus be questioned by -parents who never had acknowledged him as their son until the necessity -was forced upon them by his accidental discovery of the secret of his -birth, and who now kept him out of what he conceived to be his just -rights. Moreover, was he not twenty-five years old?--and was that -an age at which he should thus be tutored and treated like a child? -Lastly, it was verging fast upon twelve; and had he not assured his -Perdita that he would not be a minute later mid-day? - -“Charles, why do you not answer me?” asked Mr. Hatfield, approaching -him: “wherefore do you treat your parents with contempt?” - -“Wherefore did my parents treat me with such unnatural neglect as -to bring me up as their nephew?” demanded the young man, turning -abruptly--almost savagely round upon his father. “Wherefore do they -now pass me off to the world in that latter capacity?” he cried, -becoming fearfully excited. - -Lady Georgiana uttered a faint scream, covered her face with her hands, -and fell back in her chair sobbing bitterly. - -“You speak of unnatural conduct!” cried Mr. Hatfield, growing excited -in his turn. “Tell me at once, Charles--do you mean to throw off all -allegiance to your parents? If so--remember that it is in our power -to deprive you of the immense fortune which is otherwise destined for -you----” - -“Ah! menaces!” ejaculated the young man: and darting upon his father a -look of mingled regret and anger--of united sorrow and indignation,--a -look so strange, so ominous that Mr. Hatfield started with horror,--he -rushed from the room. - -“Stay! stay!” cried Lady Georgiana, springing towards the door. - -But her son heeded her not: he obeyed not her voice;--and the unhappy -mother sank upon the floor, gasping for utterance, and feeling as if -her heart would break with the wretched sensations that filled her -bosom. - -Mr. Hatfield hastened to raise his wife--to place her in a chair--and -to breath words of consolation in her ears. - -When she was somewhat recovered, she clasped her hands convulsively -together; and, looking up appealingly into his face, said, “Is this a -reality? or is it a dream?” - -“Alas! it is a terrible reality,” responded Mr. Hatfield, in a tone of -mingled bitterness and sorrow. - -“And what can it all mean?” asked Lady Georgiana, wildly: for she was -bewildered by the strangeness of her son’s conduct--amazed by the -sudden alteration of his manner from respect to insolent indifference -towards his parents. - -“Heaven alone can solve that question for us at present,” returned her -husband. “Can it be that he has learnt any thing--that he suspects -aught of the past? No--no: that is impossible! But ever since the -discovery of his real parentage, he has been altered;--sometimes moody -and thoughtful--at others petulant and hasty,--now unnaturally gay and -excited--then deeply depressed and melancholy,--but never unruly and -overbearing, disobedient and rebellious, as he has shown himself this -forenoon.” - -“’Tis easy to perceive, I fear, that he is troubled by the mystery -which induced us to conceal his position with regard to us,” said Lady -Georgiana;--“and likewise--yes, likewise,” she added hesitatingly, “the -circumstance that he still passes as our nephew weighs upon his mind!” - -“Oh! this is a terrible retribution for my sins!--an awful punishment -for the foul misdeeds of my earlier years!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, -wringing his hands bitterly. - -“My dear husband,” said Lady Georgiana, whose turn it now was to -console; “give not way thus to your sorrow! Let us hope that he will -repent of this strange unruliness of conduct----” - -“Alas! I have sad forebodings of evil!” cried the unhappy man. “I -fear that he has formed some unworthy connexion, Georgiana: but let -us dissemble our sorrow--let us not afflict the Earl and the amiable -Esther by giving them any account of the occurrences of this day.” - -“And yet what can we say respecting the union that was contemplated -between their amiable daughter and our son?” demanded Lady Georgiana, -in an anxious tone. - -“We will by some means find an excuse for the embarrassment and -coldness of manner which Charles exhibited at the breakfast-table,” -returned Mr. Hatfield; “and I will seek the earliest opportunity to -reason with him fully and calmly upon the subject.” - -“If he should have formed an attachment elsewhere----” - -“That is scarcely probable, when we come to look calmly at the -matter--since he yesterday morning declared his affection to Frances.” - -“Alas! ’tis a mystery which pains and alarms me,” said Lady Georgiana. - -“A mystery which I will penetrate, my dear wife!” exclaimed Mr. -Hatfield, in a resolute--almost stern tone of voice. “But for the -present, it is useless to hazard a conjecture.” - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXV. - -CHARLES HATFIELD AND MRS. FITZHARDINGE. - - -It was a little after twelve o’clock when Charles Hatfield reached the -house in Suffolk Street. - -“Is Miss Fitzhardinge at home?” he enquired of the female servant who -answered his summons at the door. - -“Have the kindness to walk up into the drawing-room, sir,” was the -response; and, with beating heart, the young man followed the domestic -into the apartment where he expected again to behold his beauteous -Perdita. - -But, to his disappointment--a disappointment which he could not -conceal, he found himself in the presence of her mother. - -“Be seated, sir,” she said, coldly and formally indicating a chair, -into which Charles Hatfield fell as if in obedience to the command of a -witch. “I have many matters whereon to converse with you; and, to speak -candidly, scarcely know how to commence. One subject personally regards -you: another intimately relates to my own interests. But I will begin -with that which so nearly concerns yourself.” - -“I am all attention, madam,” said Charles, endeavouring to assume as -respectful a demeanour as possible, but in reality glancing with much -impatience towards the door--as if by his eager looks inviting the -entrance of Perdita. - -“My daughter will not interrupt us, Mr. Hatfield,” exclaimed Mrs. -Fitzhardinge, with an affectation of malice which seemed ominous and -foreboding to the young man. “Indeed, whether you will ever see her -again, depends upon the result of our present interview.” - -“My God! madam,” cried Charles, in an imploring tone; “have I offended -your beautiful daughter--or yourself?” - -“I am not precisely offended, Mr. Hatfield,” said the old woman, -assuming a more conciliatory manner: “but certain explanations are -necessary between us;--and indeed, it depends entirely on yourself -whether you ever behold Perdita again.” - -“Then I shall behold her again, madam,” returned Charles, emphatically. -“And now I can really listen to you with attention----” - -“And perhaps with patience,” added Mrs. Fitzhardinge, her rigid -features at length relaxing into a faint smile. “But I will not tax -that patience longer than I can help. Firstly, then, we are to speak of -the matters which concern yourself. And now--will you not be surprised -when I assure you that I am acquainted with many strange and marvellous -secrets connected with your family?” - -“Ah!” ejaculated Charles, starting. - -“But perhaps I even know more than you yourself are acquainted with?” -said Mrs. Fitzhardinge. - -“No, madam--no: that is impossible!” he cried, emphatically. - -“Do any of those secrets give you pain to contemplate?” she asked, -fixing her eyes searchingly upon him. “Pardon me for thus questioning -you----” - -“And why, madam, do you so question me?” he demanded, almost angrily. - -“Because I am as yet ignorant to what extent your knowledge may go in -certain respects,” she replied. - -“Then believe me, madam--believe me,” cried Charles Hatfield, bitterly, -“when I assure you that I know much more than you can possibly have an -idea of!” - -“Is the name of Rainford familiar to you?” asked the old woman, -steadily watching the effect of her question. - -“Madam,” exclaimed Charles, starting from his seat, and approaching -Mrs. Fitzhardinge in a threatening manner, “would you taunt me with the -infamy of my birth?--for I see that it is no secret to you! But imagine -not--if such indeed be your idea--that I am unworthy the love of your -daughter Perdita! You were about to marry her to an old nobleman: what -if a young nobleman were to demand her hand?” - -“A young nobleman!” ejaculated Mrs. Fitzhardinge, now surprised in -her turn: for it must be remembered that all she knew concerning the -present subject was gleaned from the musings of the old gipsy; and -those musings had led her to believe that Charles was the nephew of Mr. -Hatfield, _alias_ Thomas Rainford. - -“Yes--madam--a young nobleman!” he repeated, carried away by the -excitement of feelings under which he laboured: for he fancied that -the old lady had intended to reproach him--_him_, the son of the -resuscitated highwayman--with having dared to love her daughter. “And -now, perhaps, it is your turn to be surprised: for, as surely as you -are seated there, I am not the plain, and humble, and obscure Charles -Hatfield--but the _Lord Viscount Marston_, heir to the Earldom of -Ellingham!” - -Mrs. Fitzhardinge restrained her surprise with the utmost presence of -mind--exerting indeed an extraordinary power of self-controul; and, -surveying him with an unblushing effrontery, she said, “Well, my lord, -your lordship is at length led to confess who you really are!” - -“My lord”--“your lordship!”--Oh! how sweetly--how sweetly sounded those -words on the ears of Charles Hatfield:--he forgot that he was the son -of the resuscitated highwayman--he remembered not that his sire had -passed through the ordeal of a scaffold: he heard only that he was -saluted with a title of nobility; and already did it seem as if half -his ambition were gratified. - -“Madam,” he said, at length recovering his self-possession, and -subduing as much as possible the wildness of that joy which had seized -upon him, “then it appears you were acquainted with my right to a title -of nobility?” - -“I was,” she answered, with an air of the most perfect truthfulness: -“and believing _you_ to be ignorant of that fact, I was anxious to -make the revelation to your lordship.” - -“You are consequently acquainted with every thing that regards me?” -continued Charles, not perceiving, in the still elated condition of -his mind, that the question was foolish became it embraced a vague and -undefined generality. - -“Everything, my lord,” returned Mrs. Fitzhardinge, repeating the -titular appellation, because in her latent shrewdness she saw full well -the pleasure that its swelling sound afforded to the young man. - -“This is most strange--most singular!” cried Charles, musing audibly: -“for I came hither with the intention of revealing all--every thing--to -your Perdita, through whom you would have learnt the entire particulars -in the course of this day;--and, behold! I am anticipated--for you -already are as well acquainted with those most mysterious circumstances -as I myself! But may I ask, madam,” he exclaimed, turning abruptly -towards Mrs. Fitzhardinge,--“may I ask how you came to know that Mr. -Hatfield is my father, and that he is the rightful Earl of Ellingham, -legitimately born?” - -Mrs. Fitzhardinge had hitherto known nothing at all of those -circumstances; but, without manifesting the least surprise, she said, -“Pray be seated, my lord--compose yourself--give not way to unnecessary -excitement; and I will at once proceed to explain all my conduct to -your lordship.” - -Charles Hatfield threw himself into an arm-chair, and showed a -disposition to listen with attention. - -“Has your lordship ever heard of a gipsy named Miranda?” enquired Mrs. -Fitzhardinge. - -“Yes: I lately read the entire history of that Octavia Manners who -became Countess of Ellingham, and who was my father’s mother. The gipsy -of whom you speak was her faithful friend: but she must now be very -old--even if she be in existence!” - -“She _is_ in existence--or at least was a short time back,” said Mrs. -Fitzhardinge. “From her lips did I receive the entire history of your -family.” - -“But she could not have known that the late Earl of Ellingham married -the injured Octavia Manners,” cried Charles: “she could not have been -aware of my father’s real rank and position.” - -“Yes--she knew all,” returned the wily woman, uttering a deliberate -falsehood: “how and by what means, it matters not--neither, indeed, did -she inform me. When the whole tale was revealed to me, I thought that -you must be in ignorance of your just rights; and, having by accident -heard a good account of your lordship’s generous heart and amiable -qualities----” - -“From whom?” demanded Charles. - -“Oh! I must not gratify your curiosity in these minute details,” -exclaimed Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “Suffice it that I adhere to the important -points of our present topic.” - -“Proceed, madam: I will not again interrupt you unnecessarily,” said -the young man. - -“Well, then, my lord--I fancied that it was a flagrant shame and an -abhorrent cruelty thus to retain you in ignorance, as I supposed, of -your true standing in the world; and a sense of justice determined -me--although a total stranger to you--to acquaint your lordship with -those facts which, it however appears, were already well known to you.” - -“To speak candidly, my dear madam,” said Charles, “I _was_ in complete -ignorance of all those circumstances until eight or ten days ago, when -they were revealed to me by the strangest accident in the world.” - -“May I, without appearing indiscreet, enquire the nature of -the accident that thus put your lordship in possession of such -important--such vitally important facts?” - -“Assuredly, my dear madam,” returned Charles Hatfield. “You yourself -have behaved to me with so much kindness and candour in this respect, -that I owe you my entire confidence. A mere chance threw in my way -certain papers which fully prove that Octavia Manners was the wife of -the late Earl of Ellingham when their child was born; and that my own -father, who now bears the name of Hatfield, but who was so long and so -unhappily known by that of Rainford, was the child to whom allusion is -made.” - -“And those papers--have you them in your possession?” asked Mrs. -Fitzhardinge. - -“I have--carefully concealed in a private compartment of my -writing-desk, in my own chamber at Lord Ellingham’s mansion.” - -“But has your lordship no hesitation in proclaiming your rights and -titles--or rather in acquiring them by forcing your father to proclaim -his own?” demanded the old woman, again fixing her eyes steadfastly -upon his countenance. - -“Ah! _there_, madam, you touch the wound in my heart!” exclaimed -Charles, the sudden workings of his countenance displaying the anguish -which the thought excited within him. “I am loth to take the grand--the -important--the irrevocable step on the one hand; and I cannot bear to -surrender up all my privileges on the other. Moreover, my parents have -not acted towards me in a way to render necessary every sacrifice on my -part;--and even this morning--this very morning--my father added a new -injury to the list of those already committed against me--a new wrong, -by upbraiding me, under particular circumstances, with harshness--even -brutality.” - -“Certainly your lordship cannot permit a false sense of filial duty -to mar all the golden prospects which open before you!” exclaimed -the vile woman, who was thus encouraging evil thoughts in the young -man’s mind. “Consider your youth--your handsome appearance--your great -talents--the brilliant hopes which develop themselves in the horizon of -the future----” - -“Oh! I have thought of all this--I have weighed every thing for and -against the course which I long to adopt, but which the interests of my -parents oppose----” - -Charles paused--dashed his hand against his heated brow--and, rising, -paced the room in an agitated manner. - -“My lord, this excitement is useless,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “If you -will deign to consider me as a friend----” - -“I do--I do!” he cried, approaching her, and pressing her shrivelled -hand with fervent, but oh! with how mistaken gratitude: “have you not -proved yourself my friend? Did you not, though a stranger, contemplate -the generous act of revealing to me secrets which you considered as -necessary to be known to me? And have you not even now given me advice -which is consistent with my interests?” - -“Then, if your lordship will thus regard me as a friend, permit me to -suggest that you do not on the one hand abandon your determination to -assert your rights, nor on the other adopt any course that has not -been well deliberated upon. Consider,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge, “your -lordship will have to steel your heart against a father’s prayers--a -mother’s tears: you will have to contend against the entreaties of -you uncle, the Earl--and of his handsome Jewish wife,--aye--and the -beseechings of their daughter too;--for I understand that your lordship -has a beautiful cousin----” - -“Oh! how many hearts may I not have to break in piling up the fabric of -my ambition!” exclaimed Charles Hatfield, his heart once more smiting -him severely,--or rather with an anguish that was intolerable. - -“Yes--those are the considerations which lie before your lordship,” -resumed Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “But you must also reflect, my lord, upon -the immense interests you have at stake. Is it better to remain simple -_Charles Hatfield_ all your life--or----” - -“You need not finish the question, madam,” said the young man, suddenly -interrupting the infamous old harridan, and now speaking in a cold tone -of desperate resolution. “I must persevere: my destiny is fixed--and -even if hearts break in the struggle, I will not shrink from the -contest that is to give me my just rights! But let us talk no more of -this for the present. May I be permitted to enquire after your charming -daughter----” - -“You have now, my lord, turned the conversation on the second subject -which required discussion between us,” interrupted Mrs. Fitzhardinge. -“Perdita has confessed to me all that has taken place between herself -and your lordship----” - -“And you are doubtless offended!” exclaimed Charles Hatfield, observing -that the old lady’s countenance had again become very serious. - -“No, my lord--I am not precisely angry,” she returned; “but I tremble -to approach a topic which involves so many difficulties.” - -“Ah! madam--with your strong mind, all difficulties are surmountable,” -said Charles “and you have only to stipulate, in order that I shall -assent to every thing that you may propose.” - -“In the first place,” resumed the wily woman, “you are aware of the -strange--fanciful--and, I must say, unfortunate notions which my -daughter has imbibed relative to marriage; and your lordship must -be aware that--supposing your mutual passion be allowed to take its -course unrestrained--the world will regard her only as your lordship’s -mistress!” - -“Madam--I would cheerfully conduct her to the altar----” - -“Whither she will not go,” added the old woman, emphatically. “No--my -lord, it is useless to reason with that strong--headed, obstinate -girl on the subject. Admitting, then, that I--her mother--placing her -happiness above conventional opinions, and entertaining implicit faith -in your honour and integrity,--admitting, I say, that I consent to the -union of hearts proposed in this case,--waiving the ceremony of the -union of hands,--can you, my lord, undertake to ensure my daughter -against the contingencies of poverty?” - -“Situated as I now am, the means at my disposal an limited indeed,” -said Charles Hatfield: “but the moment my rights are proclaimed and -recognised----” - -“Then, at the same instant, the family estates, at present held by the -Earl of Ellingham, will pass into the hands of your father--and you -still remain totally dependant upon him until his death,” said Mrs. -Fitzhardinge, embracing at a glance the whole range of contingencies. - -“True!” cried Charles, suddenly becoming much embarrassed, and seeing -difficulties most unexpectedly start up. - -“_But_,” resumed Mrs. Fitzhardinge, after a few minutes’ pause, and -laying strong emphasis upon the monosyllable,--“_but_, my lord, even -should you immediately quarrel with your father by compelling him to -wrest the titles and estates from the hands of his younger brother who -now holds them, there are ways and means for your lordship to raise -money--those estates becoming inalienably yours in the perspective.” - -“Yes--I understand--there is that alternative!” exclaimed Charles. “But -my father would not discard me altogether--he would not deprive me of -the means of support during his life-time----” - -“You know not, my lord, what may be the results of the family -convulsion--the domestic revolution--which your contemplated -proceedings will bring about. Pardon me, my dear Viscount, if I thus -dwell upon matters so purely worldly;--but remember that I myself am -now placed in a cruel position by the total wreck of the brilliant -hopes which my claims in Chancery so recently held out;--and unless -I succeed in raising a few thousand pounds within a week, I shall -positively be menaced with imprisonment in a debtors’ gaol.” - -“Merciful heaven!” cried Charles Hatfield: “how can I possibly assist -you?” - -“You will not think me mercenary, my lord----” - -“Oh! no--no, my dear madam!” he exclaimed impatiently. “Tell me if -there be a means of raising the amount you require; and my readiness to -adopt those means must be received by you as a proof of my anxiety to -render myself worthy of Perdita’s love and your esteem.” - -“Generous nobleman!” cried Mrs. Fitzhardinge, pretending to be affected -by the scene: “my daughter will indeed be happy in the possession of -your heart! Listen, my lord,” she continued; “and our interview may -soon be brought to a close--for I know that you are as anxious to see -a certain person as she is dying to behold you. Your lordship ere now -alluded to particular papers which prove the legitimate birth, rights, -and identity of you father:--by means of those papers, and on your -lordship signing a document, I can undertake to procure as large a sum -of money as may be required either by my necessities or for your own -present wants.” - -“This evening, my dear madam, I will place the papers in your hands,” -said Charles, who was anxious to terminate this interview as speedily -as possible--for his impatience to behold Perdita began to exceed his -powers of endurance. - -“At eight o’clock this evening I shall expect your lordship,” observed -Mrs. Fitzhardinge: and, with these words, she quitted the apartment. - -Charles Hatfield approached the mirror--arranged his hair in the most -becoming manner--and had just snatched a last satisfactory glance at -the reflection of his handsome countenance, when the door opened and -Perdita entered the room. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXVI. - -INFATUATION. - - -Perdita was dressed in a more modest and, to speak truly, in a more -delicate manner than on either of the former occasions when Charles -had seen her. A plain morning gown, made with a high corsage, set off -her fine figure, without affording even a glimpse of the charms the -full proportions of which its shape developed. Her hair was arranged -in plain bands; and there was altogether an appearance of so much -innocence, candour, and maiden reserve in her demeanour, that it seemed -to Charles as if he now beheld in her some new phasis of her wondrous -beauty. - -Hastening forward to meet her, he caught her in his arms and covered -her lips, her cheeks, and her brow with kisses: for--whether it were -imagination or reality we know not--but she appeared to be far more -lovely than ever in his eyes. - -“Dearest--dearest Perdita!” he exclaimed,forgetting at that moment all -and every thing in the world save the object of his adoration. - -“Charles--my lord--how am I to call you henceforth?” she murmured, in -that soft, musical tone which flowed like the harmony of the spheres in -unto the very soul. - -“Am I not _Charles_ to you, dear girl?” he demanded, looking at her -tenderly and half reproachfully: then, conducting her to a seat, and -placing himself near her, he added, “I have had a long interview with -your mother, Perdita; and from all that I could gather, she has no -opposition to offer to our love.” - -“I know it,” responded the girl, casting down her eyes with a modesty -so admirably assumed that it would have deceived the most experienced -individual. “And are you well satisfied that she has thus proved -favourable to our hopes?” - -“Will you always seem to doubt my affection?” demanded the young man, -in an impassioned tone: “will you ever appear to believe that I am so -volatile--so fickle--so inconstant, as to regret to-day a step that I -took yesterday?” - -“Pardon me, Charles--pardon me,” said Perdita, looking up into his face -with an expression of the most charming _naiveté_: “but my mother heard -a rumour--and yet it might be unfounded----” - -“Speak--speak, Perdita!” cried the young man, impatiently. - -“A rumour to the effect that you were looked upon as the future husband -of Lady Frances Ellingham,” added Perdita, in a tremulous tone, as if -scarcely daring to give utterance to the jealous suspicion that the -words implied. - -Charles Hatfield became suddenly red as scarlet; and Perdita burst into -tears. - -“Oh! then the rumour is true--and you are deceiving me, my lord!” -she exclaimed, affecting a passionate outburst of grief: but, in a -few moments, she seemed to exercise an abrupt and powerful controul -over her feelings, and rising from her seat, drew herself up into a -demeanour of desperate calmness, saying, “Viscount Marston, I will show -you that my affection is of no selfish nature. If you love this young -lady, who must be your cousin, from all I have heard and know through -my mother,--if you prefer the beauteous Frances--for beautiful I am -aware she is,--Oh! then I release you from your vows to me--I restore -your plight--and I, the obscure and neglected Perdita, will pray in -secret for your welfare,--yes, and for the welfare of her who will have -robbed me of your affections!” - -“No, Perdita--no!” cried Charles, profoundly touched by this -well-enacted piece of apparently generous self-denial: “I do _not_ love -my cousin Frances--and it was only this very morning that I disputed -with my parents because I refused to form an alliance on which their -hearts are set. Perdita--my beloved Perdita, I thank thee--Oh! heaven -alone knows how sincerely I thank thee for this manifestation of -generosity,--a generosity that, if possible, has rivetted my affections -more indissolubly on thee!” - -“And you will pardon me, Charles--if in a moment of jealousy----” -murmured the designing young woman, hanging down her head in a charming -kind of confusion and bashfulness. - -“Pardon thee!” repeated her dupe, catching her in his arms, and -straining her passionately to his breast: “what have I to pardon? -Must I pardon thee for loving me so well, my Perdita?--for only those -who love well, can know what jealousy is! And, did I think that I had -cause, should I not be jealous of thee, sweet Perdita? Oh! yes--and my -jealousy would be very fierce and terrible in its consequences. But on -neither side shall there be cause for jealousy----” - -“At least not on mine, Charles,” returned the young woman, gently -extricating herself from his arms, and resuming her seat upon the -sofa. “And now, my lord,” she added playfully, “when do you intend to -take some charming suburban villa--fit it up in a chaste, elegant, -and beautiful style--and bear thither your bride,--for your bride -am I prepared to become on the conditions which have already been -established between us?” - -“Without a day’s--without an hour’s unnecessary delay, my beloved -Perdita,” answered Charles, his cheeks flushing and his eyes sparkling -with the hopes and voluptuous thoughts inspired by the question thus -put to him; and throwing his arms around her, he drew the bewitching -syren towards him. - -“Charles--Charles,” she murmured, as he glued his lips to her warm, -glowing cheek; “you are adorably handsome--and I love you as woman -never loved before. But I implore you to release me now--for--my mother -might return to the room--and--and--Oh! Charles--you clasp me too -violently----” - -And she succeeded in disengaging herself from his arms, having maddened -him as it were by the contact of her fine, voluptuous form, and the -caresses she had allowed him to lavish upon her. - -“Perdita, you are more reserved with me than you were yesterday,” said -Charles, half reproachfully. - -“Or rather say that yesterday I was so hurried away by the rapturous -thoughts--the delightful emotions--the elysian feelings which were -excited within me by the certainty of possessing your love,” murmured -the young woman, “that I had no controul over myself.” - -“And now that you are assured of my love, you have grown comparatively -cold and reserved,” said Charles, with the least degree of humour. - -“Should you think the better of me if I were without the least particle -of maiden reserve?” she asked, in a reproachful tone. “Listen, my -beloved Charles--and look not angrily on your Perdita!” - -“No--not for worlds!” he exclaimed, pressing her hand to his lips, and -feeling in the renewed infatuation of his soul that he was prompt to do -her bidding and yield to her will in all things. - -“Now you are kind and good--and I love you, dear Charles,” said -Perdita, in a tone of captivating artlessness. “Although we shall have -no bridal ceremony as performed at a church,” she resumed, “yet must -our wedding-day--if I may so call it--be duly fixed and celebrated. -When, therefore, you have provided for me and my mother such a home as -you would wish me and my parent to possess--then shall you bear me -thither, my dearest Charles, as your bride--and--and--I will be unto -thee as a wife in all respects,” she added, bending her beauteous head -down upon his bosom, and concealing her blushing countenance there. - -“Be it as you say, my sweet Perdita!” he exclaimed. “And in all things -will I do your bidding--for I love and adore you. You are an angel of -beauty;--your manners are irresistibly winning;--your voice has the -charm of the sweetest melody;--and your looks would kindle love in the -breast of an anchorite.” - -“Ah! flatterer,” she cried, raising her head, and tapping him gently -upon the face. “Will you always think thus well of me?” - -“Yes--always, always!” he exclaimed--so completely infatuated was he -with the syren. “And now tell me, my charmer--in which part of London -should you wish me to fix upon a beautiful villa for your reception?” - -“The more secluded the spot--the better,” said Perdita. “I do not wish -to form the acquaintance of prying and curious neighbours, nor shall -I court the presence of visitors. When you are with me, I shall have -no thought but for you: when you are absent, to think of you will -be sufficient occupation. I have heard that in the neighbourhood of -Holloway there are some delightful villas, newly built----” - -“Holloway! It is there--in that neighbourhood--that Markham Place, the -mansion where the Prince of Montoni is staying, is situated.” - -“And you are acquainted with that Prince?” said Perdita. “Yes--for in -this morning’s newspaper I read, amongst the Fashionable Intelligence, -that his Royal Highness had yesterday partaken of a banquet at the -mansion of the Earl of Ellingham in Pall Mall.” - -“Oh! he is a great and illustrious Prince, Perdita!” cried Charles, his -cheeks suddenly glowing with animation. - -“But he is not so handsome as you, Charles?” said Perdita, half -enquiringly--half playfully. - -“He is very handsome, dearest,” was the reply: “but his heroic -deeds--his noble disposition--his boundless philanthropy--and his -staunch support of the Rights of Man, constitute attractions which, -were he ugly as Satan, would render him adorable as an angel.” - -“And have you none of those qualities, my Charles?” demanded Perdita. -“Are you not gloriously handsome?--have you not a proud title, -which you can claim when you will--aye, and which you will claim -shortly?--and will you not some day be a Peer of the Realm, and able -to electrify the senate with your eloquence? For that you would be -eloquent, Charles, I am convinced;--and, oh! what pleasure--what -unfeigned, heart-felt pleasure would it give your devoted Perdita to -occupy even the humblest, most secluded nook in the place where you -were delivering yourself of the burning thoughts and splendid ideas----” - -“Oh! Perdita--do you too hope that I shall yet create for myself a -great and a glorious reputation?” demanded the young man, surveying his -beauteous companion with joy and surprise. - -“Yes, Charles: for do I not love thee?” she asked, in her dulcet, -silvery tone. - -“Now--oh! now can I understand how the image of the Princess Isabella -might cheer and hearten on the once obscure Richard Markham to the -accomplishment of those great deeds which have placed him on so -proud an eminence! Now,” continued the enthusiastic, infatuated -Charles,--“now can I comprehend how gallant knights, in the days of -chivalry, would dare every peril--encounter every danger, at the behest -or command of their ladye-loves! And you, my Perdita,--you shall be -as a Princess Isabella in my eyes--you shall be my ladye-love;--and -animated by thy smiles, will I yet carve out for myself a glorious -career in the world.” - -“I long to see thee in possession of thy titles, Charles--to behold -thee, too, occupying thy place in the House of Peers,” said Perdita. -“But, hark--the clock strikes two; and now I am compelled to accompany -my mother into the City----” - -“To her attorney’s?” asked Charles, a sudden fear seizing upon him. - -“Yes--to her solicitor’s office,” responded Perdita: then, after -suffering him to manifest a sentiment of pique and annoyance for a few -moments, she threw her arms around his neck, exclaiming, “And so you -are very jealous, sir--are you?--and you thought perhaps that I was -about to call upon this lawyer to signify to him my readiness to accept -the hand of the old nobleman who is my mother’s relentless opponent -in the suit? But I can assure you that the object of my visit in that -quarter is one which you will no doubt highly approve. It is to inform -the legal gentleman, with my own lips, that I utterly and totally -decline the honour of the proposed union----” - -“Charming--dearest Perdita!” ejaculated Charles, straining her in -rapture to his breast. - -“Inasmuch,” she added, with playful artlessness--or rather with an -affectation of that delightful _naiveté_,--“inasmuch as the solicitor -will not believe that I can possibly resist so splendid an offer; and -he is determined to hear the truth from me--and from me only.” - -“And were he to over-persuade you, Perdita--to impress you with the -necessity of yielding in this instance----” began Charles, still -labouring under the vague apprehension with which the artful creature -sought to inspire him in order to attach him the more completely to her. - -“Have you so much to fear on the part of an old nobleman whom I have -never seen, as I have on the part of that beautiful Lady Frances who -dwells beneath the same roof with you?” enquired Perdita, in the most -melting tones of her flute-like voice. - -“Pardon me--pardon me, dearest girl!” cried Charles, embracing her -fondly. - -“I have no more to pardon in you at present, than you had to forgive -in me ere now,” murmured the guileful woman, placing her warm cheek -against his own and allowing their hair to mingle. - -For a few moments she remained with him in this position,--a position -that enchanted, thrilled, and intoxicated him: then suddenly -withdrawing herself from his arms, she said, archly, but impressively, -“It now remains with you, Charles, when our wedding-day is to be -celebrated.” - -“Ah! if you were only as impatient as I!” he exclaimed. - -They parted--the young man hastening, as was his wont after these -visits, to the park to feast his imagination with a delicious reverie -the whole and sole subject of which should be Perdita! - -A few minutes after he had taken his departure, Mrs. Fitzhardinge -sought her daughter in the drawing-room; and the ensuing dialogue took -place. - -“Every thing tends to forward our designs with respect to this young -man,” observed the old woman, seating herself in a chair opposite to -her daughter, who was reclining upon the sofa. - -“And yet I cannot _now_ altogether comprehend your policy, mother,” -returned Perdita. - -“In which particular point, my child?” demanded the vile parent. - -“Respecting the nature of the connexion which is to subsist between -myself and Charles,” said Perdita. “It was all very well for me to -calculate upon being his mistress before we were aware that he is in -reality a Viscount, and must be an Earl: but since you succeeded so -nicely in extracting those revelations from him this morning, why -should we not secure so glorious a prize by a means more durable and -powerful than mere sophistry and the love which he bears me? Consider, -mother, how instantaneously he took a fancy to me; and believe me when -I assure you that coolness will follow as rapidly, after full satiety, -on his part.” - -“Silly girl! thou art thyself in love with him!” cried Mrs. -Fitzhardinge, in a tone of vexation. - -“Yes--more than half: I acknowledge it,” returned Perdita, coolly. - -“And yet--but a few days ago you assured me that you could not -chain yourself to one individual with any hope of being faithful to -him,--that love was a passion which would never obtain over you that -influence which it so often exercised over the weak, the simple-minded, -and the infatuated.” - -“It is perfectly true, mother, that I said all which your memory has -so faithfully treasured up, and your lips so accurately repeated,” -said Perdita, still speaking without excitement. “But _then_, my dear -mother,” she added, almost satirically--no, almost jeeringly, as if -diverting herself with her parent’s evident vexation,--“_then_, you -know, I had not seen Charles Hatfield.” - -“And I told you not to be too confident on that point to which we are -alluding,” cried Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “My dear Perdita, renounce all -ideas of marriage with this young man: indeed, you have compromised -yourself too deeply in your denunciations of the marriage-tie to be -able to recall your sentiments on that head.” - -“Not at all,” said Perdita, authoritatively. “In the same way that -I induced Charles to accede to my proposals, and even fall into -my views--so can I, in a very short space, and by means of other -sophistry, convince him that I had merely been playing a part to test -the value of his affection----” - -“No--no, Perdita: you must not attempt such a perilous proceeding,” -said Mrs. Fitzhardinge, evidently listening with great uneasiness to -the words that fell from her daughter’s lips. - -“I dare and will attempt all I choose or fancy with that young man!” -cried the head-strong Perdita, in an imperious tone. - -“Will you not follow my counsel?” demanded Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “Have I -not fulfilled all my promises to you?--did I not declare that in London -you should find luxury, plenty, and ease?--did I not pledge myself that -the young man should sue at your feet and implore your love?--and could -you have brought about all these results for yourself?” - -“I do not pretend that I could, mother,” returned Perdita. “But am I to -be your tool--your instrument--an automaton in your hands?--am I not -to have an opinion in our councils?--or am I to pay blind obedience to -you, even though I have reasons for questioning the prudence of your -proceedings?” - -“And do you now question the prudence of my proceedings?” demanded Mrs. -Fitzhardinge, growing every moment more and more irritable. - -“Yes--I do!” answered Perdita, firmly and resolutely--at the same -time fixing her brilliant eyes rebelliously upon her mother. “I -admit that if we had only ensnared in our toils a simple commoner--a -plain Charles Hatfield--with limited resources within his reach, it -would have been advisable to form no lasting connexion with him. But -now--_now_ that we are assured, beyond all possibility of doubt, that -he is himself a nobleman and the heir to enormous wealth, it would -be madness--it would be folly not to bind him to us by irrefragable -chains. Why--here is a position to be obtained and ensured at once,--a -position which will render us rich for the remainder of our days! And -think you, mother, that I have not a little feeling of ambition in my -soul? Would it not be a proud thing for you to be enabled to call the -Vicountess Marston--and in due time the Countess of Ellingham--your -daughter? All these considerations never flashed to my mind until -immediately after Charles had quitted the room ere now: or I should -have assuredly commenced the undoing of all that stupid work which, by -your persuasion and so well tutored by you, I achieved in respect to -the conditions whereon our connexion was to be based. What!” she cried, -her eyes absolutely flashing fire: “have a coronet within my reach--and -refuse it!--have a wealthy noble--or one who will be enormously -wealthy--sighing at my feet, and not wed him! Mother,” she cried, -actually exciting herself into a passion, “you must think me to be a -fool--an idiot--a mad woman!” - -“I shall think you to be a fool--an idiot--and a mad woman if you -persist in thwarting my plans or proceeding contrary to my advice,” -said Mrs. Fitzhardinge, her tanned, weather-beaten countenance becoming -absolutely livid with rage. - -“Ah! you have some sinister purpose to serve, mother!” cried Perdita, -a sudden idea striking her: “else never would you oppose yourself so -completely to the dictates of common sense. What were your words to me -when I spoke to you--and spoke as rashly--about the inaccessibility -of my soul to the passion of love? You advised me not to count only -on the chance of making a good match: you declared it to be far more -probable that I might ensnare some young gentleman of birth, family, -and fortune--or some old voluptuary of immense wealth;--and you added -that there was more to be gained as the mistress of one of those, than -as a wife. In fine, your advice was that I should remain unmarried and -independent, so that the moment I had ruined one lover, I might take -another.” - -“Yes--and that counsel was the wisest I could proffer you,” said her -mother, actually speaking in a savage tone, and looking as if she could -have leapt, tigress-like, upon her daughter and torn her with her nails -as if they were claws. - -“Oh! the advice was good enough under certain circumstances,” exclaimed -Perdita. “It was good in so far as it related to the probability of my -securing a succession of lovers, each with only a comparatively small -fortune, and each individual, therefore, to be soon set aside. But now -that, at the very outset, chance has thrown in my way a young noble, -who must sooner or later inherit a vast fortune which no extravagance -can completely dissipate,--a fortune, indeed, which will minister to -all extravagances, and yet remain unimpaired,--should I not be the -veriest fool that ever tossed gold into a river or hurled diamonds -into an abyss, were I not to secure the brilliant advantage thus placed -within my reach?” - -[Illustration] - -“Daughter,” exclaimed the old woman, with difficulty preventing a -complete outburst of her fury, “I tell you that this may not be! Secure -Charles Hatfield--or rather Viscount Marston--as your paramour: _I_ -will undertake to raise as much money, as you can persuade him to -lavish upon you;--and then--_then_, my child,” she added, adopting a -tone of fawning conciliation, “you can choose a new lover and make -inroads into another’s fortune.” - -“I am determined to pursue and follow out the plan which my own -convictions indicate as the most rational--the most sensible--the most -advisable!” exclaimed Perdita; “and, therefore, the present dispute is -useless and absurd.” - -“Dispute!” repeated Mrs. Fitzhardinge, her countenance again becoming -absolutely livid, and her whole form trembling with rage: “I do not -choose to dispute with you, insolent girl that you are! Now listen to -me, Perdita--and know once for all that I _will_ be obeyed in this, as -in all things--or I will abandon you to your own resources--I will hurl -you back into rags, want, and poverty----” - -“Not while I possess this beauty of which a queen might be proud!” said -Perdita, in a quiet manner, as she glanced with self complacency at her -own handsome countenance as it was reflected in a mirror opposite. - -“Oh! think not that beauty is the only element of fortune!” cried -the old woman, surveying her daughter with almost an expression of -fiend-like hate: “for, if you dare to thwart me, Perdita, I will -become your bitterest and most malignant enemy, though you are my own -child:--I will pursue thee with my vengeance;--wherever you may be, -I will spoil all your machinations and ruin all your schemes;--nay, -more--I will compel your very lovers to thrust you ignominiously -forth from them! For I will boldly proclaim how that Perdita who -has enthralled them, was accursed from her very birth--born in -Newgate--thence taken by her mother to a penal colony, where she became -lost and abandoned at the early age of thirteen--and how every handsome -young officer in garrison at Sydney could boast of the favours of this -profligate young creature!” - -A mocking laugh came from the lips of Perdita,--a laugh that rang more -horribly in the ears of her mother than an explosion of maledictions, -recriminations, and insults would have done,--a laugh that seemed to -say, “Wretched--drivelling old woman, I despise thee!” - -“You will repent this conduct, vile girl--you will repent it!” muttered -Mrs. Fitzhardinge, approaching Perdita, and gazing on her with eyes -that seemed to glare savagely. “Whatever be the risk--even though I -involve myself in the downfall of our splendid prospects--I will ruin -thee, if thou darest to oppose and thwart me! Abandon thy scheme of -marrying the young nobleman--and we will be friends again: persist -in it--and we separate, as mortal enemies. Yes--and the first step -which I shall take will be to repair to Charles Hatfield--implore his -forgiveness for having been a party to the scheme plotted against him -and his--and give such a character of thee, Perdita, that his blood -shall run cold in his veins at the mere thought of ever having been -placed in contact with thee! And, oh! the picture which a mother -will draw of her daughter in such a case,--that picture will be -terrible--very terrible! Pause, then--reflect----” - -“One word, mother,” said Perdita, who had maintained an extraordinary -degree of composure throughout this scene--doubtless because she knew -that she must triumph in the long run. “You threaten bravely: let us -look calmly and deliberately at what must be the inevitable results of -a fearful quarrel between you and me:--let us see who would get the -better of it! On one side would be you--old--ugly--disgustingly ugly, -I may say--so that to become anything save a beggar, grovelling in -the kennel would be impossible. On the other side would be myself--at -all events handsome enough to gain the favour of some soft fool: and, -spoil my character as you will, you cannot prevent me from finding a -paramour amongst those who care nothing for the reputation, but every -thing for the beauty, of their mistresses. Bread to me is certain: rags -and starvation to you are equally well assured. My life of pleasure, -gaiety, and dissipation is to come: yours has passed--and naught -remains for you save to die in a workhouse or on a dunghill! Pardon -me, my dear mother, for speaking thus openly--thus plainly,” added the -young woman, now throwing a spice of irony into her tone: “but you -did not spare me when you summed up my characteristics just now. And -before I quit the subject, I may as well observe that you yourself are -not the most immaculate woman upon the face of the earth. Heaven only -knows how prolific were the debaucheries of your youth: but you veiled -them all beneath the aspect of a _saint_! Oh! that was excellent, dear -mother--excellent, indeed!” cried Perdita, her merry, musical laugh -echoing through the apartment: “only conceive you once to have been a -_saint_! In good truth, you have not much of the appearance of a saint -now, mother: neither had you when living with the free-settler as his -mistress!” - -“Perdita--Perdita!” gasped the wretched Mrs. Fitzhardinge, writhing -like a snake at these bitter words, and shaking convulsively from head -to foot: “you--you will drive me mad!” - -“Ah! what--do you possess _feelings_, then, my dear mother?” demanded -the young woman, assuming an air of profound astonishment. “And yet -you must have imagined that your daughter was totally without those -same little feelings which it is so easy to wound, and so difficult to -heal. Well--I will forbear: otherwise, I was about to have reminded -you of those glorious times--before I was born, indeed--when you were -the paramour of Sir Henry Courtenay, whose name you so pleasantly and -quietly forged to a slip of paper one day----” - -“Silence--Perdita--silence!” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge, in a hoarse and -hollow tone--clasping her hands convulsively at the same time. “I was -wrong to provoke you thus: you are very hard upon me--you have the best -of it, Perdita--and I--I----” - -Here the old wretch burst into tears,--not an assumed grief--no -crocodile weeping,--but a flood of genuine tears, wrung from her -by the cutting, biting, bitter sarcasms which her daughter had so -mercilessly--so slaughterously levelled against her. - -Perdita suffered her to weep without offering the least consolation: -for the young woman was hurt and wounded on her side as well as the old -harridan was hurt and wounded on the other. - -The recriminations of those two females--that mother and daughter--had -been terrible in their implacability, and appalling in their unnatural -malignity. - -There was a long pause--during which Mrs. Fitzhardinge sate -sobbing--being absolutely hideous in her grief,--while Perdita--with -flashing eyes dilating nostrils, flushing cheeks, and palpitating -bosom, lay half reclined upon the sofa--tapping the carpet petulantly -with the tip of her long, narrow, exquisitely shaped shoe. - -“My dear child,” at length said the old woman, “are we to be friends or -enemies?” - -“That depends entirely upon yourself, mother,” was the answer: “I -am not to be tyrannised over by you--nor menaced in the fearful way -in which you have threatened me to-day, without showing resentment -in return. Really, one would have supposed that you were addressing -yourself to the bitterest enemy you had in the world--rather than to -your daughter who has done all she could to place you in a comfortable -position for the remainder of your days.” - -“Well--well--let us be friends, Perdita!” exclaimed Mrs. Fitzhardinge. - -“Yes--we will be friends,” responded the daughter. “But remember -that my views in respect to Charles Hatfield--or rather, Viscount -Marston--are to be carried into effect.” - -“Without again quarrelling,” interrupted her mother, “let me assure -you that I cannot--cannot possibly consent to this deviation from our -original arrangements. It was an express understanding between us that -_marriage_ was, in every case, to be out of the question----” - -“And may not circumstances transpire to change original plans?” -demanded Perdita, beginning to divine the reasons of her mother’s -uncompromising opposition to her matrimonial scheme. - -“A truce to these arguments!” cried Mrs. Fitzhardinge, again growing -irritable. “Remember that this evening your love-sick swain will -deposit in my hands all the papers containing the evidence of his -father’s right to the earldom and estates of Ellingham----” - -“And you will use your power to coerce me?” said Perdita, in her quiet -way, which nevertheless seemed to breathe defiance. - -“I do not affirm _that_, my child,” cried the old woman, smothering her -rage. “But I would ask you of what use those papers would be without my -assistance to raise money on them?” - -“Of no more utility than our acquaintance with Charles would be to -_you_, were it not for _me_,” returned Perdita. “And now, mother, I may -as well inform you at once that I can penetrate into all the motives -which prompt you thus to oppose my marriage views with respect to -Charles. You imagine that if I become his mistress only, I shall be so -completely in your power that I must still continue your slave,--that a -word from you relative to my past life would send away Charles Hatfield -in disgust,--and that in order to prevent you from speaking that word, -I shall obey you blindly. In fine, you hope to exercise a despotism -alike over him and me,--dispose of the purse--and control the household -with sovereign sway. On the other hand, you imagine,--nay, do not -look so black, my dear mother--we are only telling each other a few -agreeable truths----” - -“Go on, vile girl!” gasped Mrs. Fitzhardinge, trembling--suffocating -with rage. - -“On the other hand, then,” pursued the young woman, in a placid, -unexcited manner,--“on the other hand you suppose that if once I become -the wife of Charles Hatfield--if once he shall have taken me for better -or worse--if once the indissoluble knot be tied, your power over me -would cease. For were you to avenge any slight by making revelations -respecting me, I might lose my husband’s esteem and love, but should -not the less remain his wife. You therefore dread lest you should -become a cypher--dependant upon us for your daily bread--unable to -control the purse and the domestic economy----” - -“And what will you do to guarantee that all you are now saying is not -a predictive sketch of what you know must happen in case I permit -your marriage?” demanded Mrs. Fitzhardinge, dismayed by this accurate -reading of her heart’s secrets on the part of her daughter. - -“I can only assure you this much, mother,” was the answer,--“that -if you conduct yourself well towards me, I shall act well towards -you,--that you shall have your own way in every thing where my will is -not violently thwarted,--and that I will co-operate with you cheerfully -for our mutual interests, so long as you do not attempt to drive me as -a slave.” - -“And all this you faithfully promise, Perdita?” demanded her mother, -eagerly; for she was now glad to effect any compromise rather than come -to an open rupture with her daughter, who, she saw, had in reality so -much the better of her. - -“Be assured, mother,” replied Perdita, “that I am not for war;--and if -we quarrel any more, it will be your fault.” - -“We will _not_ quarrel, Perdita,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge: “you shall -marry Charles Hatfield--or Viscount Marston, as we ought to call -him;--and here let our dispute finish.” - -“With all my heart. And now tell me, mother, how--where--and with whom -you intend to raise the money upon these papers which Charles is to -send or bring in the evening?” - -“A few evenings ago, when I was lurking about Pall Mall waiting for -that young gentleman, I suddenly encountered a person whom I had known -years and years since, and who played me a vile--a very vile trick. He -was much altered,” continued Mrs. Fitzhardinge; “but I knew him--knew -him the moment the light of the lamp flashed upon his features. I -accosted him--told him who I was--and upbraided him for his villainy -of former times. He spoke softly and in a conciliatory manner--and -we fell into a more amicable train of conversation than at first. We -soon understood each other; and giving me his address--for, by-the -bye, he has taken a new name--he invited me to call upon him--and we -parted. Since then I have made enquiries in the neighbourhood where he -dwells; and I learn that he is reputed to be immensely rich--a miser -and money-lender. He is therefore the man whom I require;--and we may -reckon confidently upon his aid in the business of raising funds on the -documents. This very evening I will call upon him----” - -“You will permit me to accompany you, mother,” said Perdita, rather in -a tone of command than of interrogatory. - -“Yes--if such be your pleasure,” was the reply: for the old woman saw -that it was useless and totally adverse to her own interests to thwart -her daughter in any single respect. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXVII. - -TWO MORE OLD ACQUAINTANCES. - - -It was about eight o’clock in the evening of the same day when these -scenes took place, that an old man, coming from a northern direction, -entered the metropolis by the suburb of Pentonville. - -He was upwards of seventy-four years of age,--tall--thin--and retaining -so much muscular vigour as only to stoop slightly in his gait. His -complexion was perfectly cadaverous in hue, ghastly and careworn, and -sinister in its expression. His attire was shabby, thread-bare, and -travel-soiled,--his dusty boots denoting that he had journeyed some -distance on foot. Nevertheless, there was about him a certain air -which, in spite of his repulsive features and his sordid garb, denoted -gentility; and an observer would have pronounced him to be, as indeed -he was, a decayed gentleman. - -Having passed by the Model Prison, he struck out of the highway into -the fields where so many houses are now rapidly springing up, and which -lie in the immediate vicinity of the Barnsbury and Liverpool Roads. - -It was evident, however, that he had no definite object in view--no -home whither he was proceeding; and he had turned into the fields -merely to rub off the dust from his boots in the long grass, and rest -himself for a few minutes in a secluded place. - -At length he rose; and his wandering footsteps led him into the -vicinity of the detached rows of small houses and cottages which dot -the immediate neighbourhood of the Caledonian Road. - -Once he stopped beneath a lamp; and taking his money from his pocket, -counted it slowly. And heaven knows that the amount of his pecuniary -property did not require long to reckon; for two shillings in silver -and a few halfpence constituted all the store. - -“This will at least purchase me a meal and procure me a bed for -to-night,” he murmured to himself; “and then--to-morrow--I must present -myself to those who have not heard of me for so long a time.” - -With these words, the old man resumed his slow and painful walk--for -he was wearied and exhausted by the length of his day’s journey. It -was evident that he had been absent many--many years from the capital; -for, though he had once known this neighbourhood well, yet now it was -so changed that he gazed around him with astonishment,--aye, and paused -to gaze around, too,--streets, rows of houses, and gardens having taken -the place of the open fields. - -He had now reached a spot where the dwellings were more thinly -scattered, and where the path was as yet unpaved and the road was -thickly strown with flints. - -It was now close upon nine o’clock; but the July evening was so -beautiful that it was far from dark--only dimly obscure;--and thus, -though there was no lamp in the neighbourhood where the old man was -pursuing his way, yet was it sufficiently light for him to obtain a -good view of objects, and even of the countenances of the few people -whom he met. - -Not that he paid any particular attention to the latter:--still, a -stranger just arriving in London, or a person who returns to the -capital after a very long absence, observes and marks every thing and -every body with an earnest scrutiny at first. - -The old man was passing by two small houses, forming one isolated -building, and standing back from the road, when he encountered an -individual whose face immediately struck him as being one which he had -formerly known full well; and in the next instant a light flashed in -upon his mind. - -“Yes--’tis he!” he ejaculated to himself; and, laying his hand upon -the other’s shoulder, he said, “Mr. Howard, we meet at last--after a -separation of upwards of nineteen years!” - -“My name is not Howard--and I know nothing of you, sir. Let me go!” was -the impatient reply, delivered by the individual whom the old man had -accosted, and who was himself well stricken in years--being now midway -between sixty and seventy. - -“Were I on my death bed, I could swear that your name was _once_ -Howard, and that you were an attorney in London--an attorney who -absconded, ruining thousands,” exclaimed the old man. - -“What means this insolence?” asked the other, affecting a tone of deep -indignation mingled with surprise. “Pass on your way, sir--and let me -pursue mine!” - -“Not till I have had recompense or vengeance,” growled the old man, -ferociously. “For a sum of money did I sell myself to a vile and -abandoned woman--a certain Mrs. Slingsby, whom you knew well;--and this -money was deposited with you, villain that you are! For you fled--and -the loss of that money was not the lightest of the myriad misfortunes -that fell upon me at the time. Now do you know who _I_ am, Mr. -Howard?--for I know _you_ full well!” - -“You have spoken of a number of unintelligible things to me, -sir--mentioned names with which I never was acquainted--alluded to -circumstances entirely unknown----” - -“Liar!” ejaculated Mr. Torrens--for he was the old man who had just -now so wearily entered the suburb of Pentonville: “liar!” he repeated, -seizing the other individual by the collar; “what should prevent me -from raising an alarm and giving you into custody? For though years -have elapsed, yet your offences have never been expiated----” - -“Softly--softly, my good sir,” interrupted the person thus addressed, -and whose manner began to evince trepidation and alarm. “Let us adjourn -somewhere and talk amicably on this matter----” - -“No!” cried Mr. Torrens. “How do I know but that you intend to inveigle -me into a den where you may perhaps silence my tongue for ever?” - -“Fool--dotard!” muttered the other between his lips: “does he take me -for a murderer?” - -“I believe you to be capable of any villainy,” returned the now -infuriated Torrens, whose ears had caught the sense of those low -mutterings. “But I shall not lose sight of you until I have received -full and complete satisfaction for the wrongs I endured at your hands -many years ago. And that you _are_ able to give such satisfaction, your -appearance proves full well,” he added, as his eye caught a glimpse of -the gold chain and massive seals which depended from the other’s fob. - -“Mr. Torrens--I will no longer attempt to conceal a fact of which you -are so well assured. I _am_ the Howard to whom you allude: but, in -the name of God! do not ruin me--do not expose me. Here--this is my -dwelling,” he continued, pointing to one of the two houses in front -of which this colloquy took place: “walk in with me--and--and we will -converse at our ease----” - -“Yes--I will accompany you,” said Mr. Torrens, in a laconic manner: -“lead the way, sir.” - -Mr. Howard drew forth a small key from his pocket, and with it opened -the iron gate of the railings in front of the house. Torrens followed -him across the little enclosure; and with another and larger key he -opened the door of the dark and gloomy-looking dwelling. No domestic -appeared; and the lawyer, entering the parlour, groped about in the -dark until he found some lucifer-matches--Torrens remaining all the -while in the passage. At length a light was obtained; and the visitor -was requested to enter the room, which, by means of the one poor candle -that now threw a feeble gleam around, appeared to be but indifferently -furnished,--so that the aspect of the small and cheerless house -somewhat damped the hopes which Torrens had entertained of compelling -the individual whom he had thus accidentally encountered, to disgorge -the sum embezzled by him upwards of nineteen years previously. - -“Do you live all alone here?” he demanded, taking the seat to which -Howard pointed. - -“Yes--all alone,” was the reply. “I am too poor to keep a servant.” - -“Too poor!” exclaimed Mr. Torrens, his heart sinking within him. - -“Yes, indeed! How should I be possessed of any money?” said Howard, -glancing around with nervous anxiety, as if he were afraid of being -overheard. “From the moment that I was forced, by unexpected reverses -and sudden misfortunes, to fly from London, I have led a life of -continued struggles; and although, a few years ago, I was venturous -enough to return to the metropolis and settle in this little cottage, -which I got at a cheap rent as it was only just built,--yet my affairs -have not improved----” - -“But you must have some means of subsistence?--you pursue some -avocation?--you doubtless continue to practise----” - -“No--no,” interrupted Howard, hastily. “I have been compelled to change -my name--and it is as Mr. Percival--_poor Mr. Percival_--that I am -known in this neighbourhood.” - -“You adopt strange precautions for a poor man,” said Torrens, pointing -to the strong iron bars that fastened the shutters of the window: then, -turning a look full of sardonic meaning upon Howard--or Percival, as -we shall call him,--he added, “And methinks that when you opened your -front door just now, a heavy chain rattled. Assuredly your little house -is well protected.” - -“What would you infer from these facts?” demanded Percival: “that I -have money--that I have turned miser?” he cried, with a forced and -unnatural laugh. “Absurd! The person who lived here before me, had -those bars put up to the window-shutters, and that heavy chain to the -street door----” - -“I thought you got the house cheap because it had only just been -built?” said Torrens, smiling with malignant incredulity. - -“Yes--but I did not tell you that I was the first person who occupied -it,” exclaimed Percival, as if eager to explain away an inconsistency -in his statements and efface from the mind of his visitor the -disagreeable impression made there. - -“This is mere child’s play, Mr. Howard--or Percival--or whatever your -name may be!” cried Torrens. “You have got money--and you wish me to -believe you poor. For myself, I _am_ poor--so poor that I have but -wherewith to obtain a meal and a bed for one night. It is true that I -have a daughter and a son-in-law in London;--and it is likewise true -that necessity--stern, imperious necessity has driven me at last to -this city to seek assistance at their hands. But for nine years have I -remained as one dead to them: for nine years have I wandered about the -world, caring not what might become of me, and wishing to be believed -dead in all reality by my daughter who suspects that I have been very -criminal, and by my son-in-law who knows that I have! Yes--yes: I -have purposely left them in uncertainty relative to me--unhappy man -that I am,--purposely left them so, I say, in order that they may -apprehend the worst! Stern want, however, was driving me to them when -I encountered you: to-morrow morning I should have appeared in their -presence,--in the presence of the daughter whom I do not love, and of -her husband whom I hate--_hate_, for his very virtues, and because -he knows me to be so vile!” added the old man, bitterly. “But now, -sir, that I have met with you, your purse must save me the pain--the -humiliation--the annoyance of encountering those beings face to face! -Come, Mr. Percival--I have spoken to you frankly: do you be equally -candid with me.” - -“Candid in what?” demanded the individual thus addressed. - -“In respect to your own means and resources,” returned Torrens. “I -do not wish to be hard upon you; but a portion of the money that you -robbed me of, I must and will have.” - -“These are harsh words--and unavailing, too,” said Percival: “for -I have not a sixpence to bless myself with! But,” he added, with a -malicious grin, “if I cannot give you money, I may perhaps impart a -piece of agreeable intelligence.” - -“What! to me?” exclaimed Torrens, in a tone of surprise. - -“Yes--to you. What would you think if I were to tell you that your -dearly-beloved wife was in London at this very moment, and passing -under the aristocratic name of Fitzhardinge?” - -“My wife!” repeated Torrens, turning positively livid as these words -struck upon his ears. “No--impossible! I would not meet that dreadful -woman for thousands of pounds!” - -“Then if you remain here you will assuredly encounter her,” said -Percival; “for I received a note from her this evening announcing her -intention to honour me with a visit,” he added, intently watching the -effect which these words produced upon his companion. - -“Villain! you are endeavouring to get rid of me as speedily as -possible!” cried Torrens, almost foaming at the mouth with rage. - -“Should you recognise your wife’s handwriting?” demanded Percival, a -diabolical grin still distorting features which, once handsome, had -been marred and rendered repulsive by time and evil passions. “Though -she is now stricken in years and has become positively hideous in -personal appearance, that handwriting retains all the grace and fluency -which ever characterised it.” - -With these words, he took a perfumed note from his pocket-book, and -handed it to Torrens, who, hastily glancing over its contents, read the -following words:-- - - “Mrs. Fitzhardinge presents her compliments to Mr. Percival, - and will call upon him between nine and ten o’clock this - evening on very particular business. She therefore hopes that - Mr. Percival will have the kindness to remain at home to - receive her.” - -“Now are you satisfied?” demanded Percival, who perceived by the -workings of Torrens’ countenance that the handwriting had been fully -recognised. - -“And on what matters is she--that vile woman--coming to you?” asked -Torrens, impatiently. - -“I cannot answer the question. You perceive that she speaks only of -_particular business_ in a vague fashion. I met her by accident some -few days ago--and have not seen her since.” - -“And she comes between nine and ten,” mused Torrens: “and it is already -close upon ten o’clock! I would not meet her for the world: ’twould -recall to my mind, with intolerable force, all the anguish--all the -sufferings----No--no,” he cried, suddenly interrupting himself and -starting from his chair; “I will not--I cannot meet her!” - -“Then you had better depart at once,” said Percival, evidently most -anxious to see the unwelcome visitor turn his back upon the house. - -“Yes--I shall depart indeed,” exclaimed Torrens: “but you must give me -money first. Nay--no more excuses: I am a desperate man----” - -At that instant a double knock at the street door echoed through the -little dwelling. - -“’Tis your wife!” said Percival. - -“Hide me--or let me escape,” cried Torrens, manifesting a violent and -most unfeigned reluctance to encounter the woman whom for so many -reasons he loathed and abhorred. - -“Here--by the back gate,” said Percival; and, taking the light in his -hand, he hastily conducted the almost bewildered Torrens along the -passage--down a few steps--and thence to a door opening upon a piece of -unenclosed waste ground at the back of the house. - -At that instant the double knock was repeated--more loudly than before -and evidently with impatience. - -“Good night, Mr. Torrens,” said Percival, scarcely able to subdue a -spice of lurking satire in his tone. - -“Good night,” returned the other, savagely. “But I shall visit you -again to-morrow morning.” - -Percival closed the back gate as if to shut out this intimation from -his ears; and, hurrying to the front door, he gave admittance to -Perdita and her mother. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXVIII. - -THE MONEY-LENDER. - - -Mrs. and Miss Fitzhardinge were attired in the plainest possible -manner, so that they seemed to be some poor tradesman’s wife and -daughter. But the moment the light of the candle fell on Perdita’s -countenance, Mr. Percival literally started as the glorious beauty of -that face was revealed to him. The young woman perceived the effect -of her charms on the old lawyer; and a smile of triumph played on her -haughty lip,--for she said within herself; “Wherever I go, men pay -homage to my loveliness!” - -Hastily closing the front door, Percival now conducted his two -visitresses into the back-parlour, which was far more commodiously -furnished than the one where his interview with Torrens had taken -place. The shutters of this room were, however, as strongly protected -by iron bars and as well secured as those in the other; and Mr. -Percival had multiplied in them the number of holes cut in the shape of -a heart, in order that he might be enabled to fire his blunderbuss at -a moment’s warning, and in almost any direction, through the shutters, -in case of an attempt on the part of burglars to effect an entry in the -rear of the building. - -For it was perfectly true, as he had informed Torrens, that he lived -alone in the house: but he was reported to be a miser--and such -indeed he was. Having been extravagant and profligate in his earlier -years, he had fallen into the opposite extreme; and when he absconded -from his creditors, the money which he had taken with him he hoarded -carefully. For a long time he had remained concealed in a distant town, -placing out his funds in small loans at an enormous interest; so that -as his wealth augmented, his parsimonious habits increased. At last, -become greedy and griping as any miser whose renown has been preserved -in tale-book or history, Percival--as we shall continue to call -him--resolved on venturing to London, where the field for his cupidity -was more ample than in the provinces. Trusting to the alteration that -years had made in his personal appearance, and to the disguise of the -name which he had assumed, he settled in the secluded neighbourhood -and comparatively lonely house when we now find him;--and, without -seeking business obtrusively, he soon found plenty. One person whom he -obliged with a loan would give his address to another also requiring -assistance; and thus his clients or patrons--whichever the reader may -choose to call the borrowers--increased. He was almost constantly at -home--formed no acquaintances--and was short and pithy in his mode of -transacting business. He never advanced money save when he perceived -the security to be ample; and if occasionally he made a bad debt, he -employed an attorney who asked no impertinent questions to sue the -defaulter in his own name, it being alleged that the unpaid bill had -been passed in a legitimate manner to the pettifogger aforesaid. An -elderly widow, of the name of Dyer, occupied the house next door; and -she acted in the capacity of charwoman for Mr. Percival--keeping his -dwelling in order and preparing for him his frugal meals. - -Having recorded these few necessary particulars, we shall now -return to the little back parlour, where Mr. Percival and his two -visitresses were seated. His back was turned to the window: but Mrs. -Fitzhardinge and Perdita, who sate opposite to him, faced it,--while -the candle stood on the mantel,--so that had any one peeped through the -heart-holes in the shutters, the countenances of the women must have -been plainly visible to such curious observer outside the casement. - -“Your daughter, madam, I presume?” said Mr. Percival, with a polite -inclination of the head towards the handsome Perdita. - -“Yes, my dear sir,” was the reply. “And she is about to form an -excellent match with a young gentleman who is indeed a nobleman by -right, and who will shortly assert his title to that distinction. He -wishes to borrow money for his immediate purposes and also to assist -me: hence my visit to you this evening.” - -“Well--well, my dear madam,” said Percival; “if the security be -good----” - -“The security is ample,” returned Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “He is indubitably -the heir to vast estates--and his bond----” - -“Will be quite sufficient,” added Percival. “That is--presuming him to -be of age----” - -“He is twenty-five years old,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “But the history -of himself and family is most extraordinary: and his father is not -altogether unknown to you:--for, if I remember aright, it was you who -prosecuted the celebrated highwayman, Thomas Rainford, for the robbery -of the late Sir Christopher Blunt?” - -“What earthly connexion can exist between Tom Rain and the young -nobleman who wants to borrow money?” demanded Percival, with unfeigned -astonishment. - -“Grant me your patience, my dear sir,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge, “and -I will explain the matter as concisely as possible. Thomas Rainford -was in reality the son of the late Earl of Ellingham--the eldest -son, and legitimately born, of that nobleman, who privately married -a certain Octavia Manners. The individual who at present bears the -title and enjoys the estates of the Earldom of Ellingham, is the -offspring of a second marriage contracted by his father. He and -Rainford are consequently half-brothers. All these facts are proven -by certain papers now in the possession of myself and daughter. One -of the documents is the marriage-certificate of the late Earl with -Octavia Manners,--another the baptismal certificate of their son,--a -third the journal of Octavia Manners explaining many matters connected -with the whole affair,--and then follows a variety of documents -establishing the identity of Thomas Rainford with the son of the late -Earl and the Countess Octavia. Thus far the rights of Thomas Rainford -are clearly made out. I must now inform you that Rainford and Lady -Georgiana Hatfield have long been united in matrimonial bonds, and -that the husband has for a considerable time adapted his wife’s name. -The offspring of this alliance is the young gentleman of whom I have -already spoken to you, and who at present bears the denomination of -Charles Hatfield. Now, his father being the rightful Earl of Ellingham, -this Charles Hatfield is actually the Viscount Marston, and heir to the -title and estates of the Earldom.” - -“Your history, my dear madam, is clear and comprehensive enough,” said -Percival, already calculating the enormous gains which might be derived -from the fact of becoming the banker to a young noblemen having a vast -fortune in the perspective, and whom he supposed to be as extravagantly -inclined as youthful scions of the aristocracy in such cases generally -are. “And you possess the proofs of all the singular facts which you -have detailed?” - -“The proofs--the positive proofs,” replied Mrs. Fitzhardinge, -emphatically;--and turning towards her daughter, she said, “Show Mr. -Percival the papers.” - -“It is useless,” answered Perdita, in a firm but quiet manner, “unless -he first agree to advance a certain sum of money, should they be -satisfactory.” - -“True,” said her mother, biting her lip at the thought that her -daughter was more keen than herself: then, addressing herself to the -miser, she observed, “You heard the remark that fell from the lips of -Miss Fitzhardinge?” - -“Yes--yes,” returned Mr. Percival. “We shall most likely do business -together--most likely,” he repeated. “At the same time, I must see my -way very clearly----” - -“And we must be careful not to reveal unnecessarily any more of the -important secrets of which we are the depositories,” said Perdita. - -“Quite right, young lady!” exclaimed the miser, who experienced no -slight degree of embarrassment: for he was afraid, on the one hand, of -letting a good chance slip through his fingers--and he was fearful, -on the other, of admitting that he had ample resources immediately -available. - -Not that Percival dreaded on the part of Mrs. Fitzhardinge the same -attempt at extortion, or rather of obtaining restitution, which had -been made by Mr. Torrens; because he knew full well that she was -occupying a false position in the world, and living under an assumed -name as well as himself;--and should she take it into her head to -threaten him with an exposure as being no other than Howard the -run-away attorney, he could in a moment retaliate by proclaiming her to -be Mrs. Slingsby--or Mrs. Torrens--the woman who had been transported -for forgery! - -No:--Mr. Percival dreaded not menace on the part of Mrs. Fitzhardinge; -but the naturally suspicious disposition of the miser, and the vague -fears that ever haunt the avaricious man when questioned as to the -amount and whereabouts of his resources--these were the influences -which made Percival hesitate to plunge too precipitately into the -transaction now submitted for his consideration. - -“Well, sir,--are you prepared to negociate with us--or not?” demanded -Perdita, after a short pause, during which the miser fidgetted -nervously upon his chair. - -“It all depends, Miss--it all depends on the amount your noble friend -requires,” he answered at length. - -“The entire business is left in our hands,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge; -“and we wish to raise between five and six thousand pounds in the first -instance----” - -“Of which one thousand must be paid to-night,” added Perdita, “as an -earnest that the transaction is seriously entered into.” - -“A thousand pounds to-night!” cried the miser. “But how is that -possible--even if I had the money in the house,” he asked, looking -anxiously around, and sinking his voice to a low whisper,--“how is it -possible, I say, since the young nobleman is not here to give me any -acknowledgment?” - -“This objection was naturally anticipated by us,” replied Perdita. -“Viscount Marston, instead of sending us the papers this evening, did -us the honour to call personally with them; and his lordship confided -to me,--and to _me_ alone,” added Perdita, with a rapid glance of -triumphant meaning at her mother,--“his note of hand for one thousand -guineas.” - -“I must congratulate you, my dear madam,” exclaimed Percival, -addressing himself with a smile to the old woman,--“I must congratulate -you on possessing a daughter of the most business-like character in the -person of Miss Fitzhardinge.” - -“Then pray let us transact our present affairs in a business-like -manner,” said Perdita, who was rapidly putting herself more forward -in the matter, and proportionately throwing her mother into the -back-ground: so that the old woman more than once bit her lip to -restrain her rising choler;--but, remembering the terrific scene of the -morning, she saw no alternative save to allow her daughter to have her -own way--trusting, however, to the chapter of accidents to restore to -her in the long run that paramount influence which she had lost. - -“You wish me to discount at once that note of hand for a thousand -guineas?” said the miser, fixing his eyes admiringly on Perdita’s -splendid countenance. - -“Yes--as an earnest that you are not prompted by mere curiosity to -look farther into this most extraordinary, mysterious, and yet easily -understood affair,” replied Perdita. - -“I will accede to your terms, Miss Fitzhardinge,” said Percival, after -a few minutes’ deliberation,--“provided that the documents in your -possession bear out your mother’s statements.” - -“Place the money on the table, sir,” returned the young woman, in her -quiet though somewhat imperious manner; “and these papers,” she added, -producing a sealed packet at the some time, “shall be submitted to your -perusal.” - -“Good!” cried the miser. - -He then rose from his seat; and, having once more cast a furtive look -around him, as if it were possible for an intruder to secrete himself -in a room fourteen feet by ten, and which the three inmates already -nearly filled, he proceeded to open an iron safe that was fitted into -a kind of cupboard in one corner. Thence he took forth a tin cash-box, -which, when opened, revealed heaps of Bank-notes, and a large amount in -gold. - -“There, ladies,” said he: “I have now convinced you of my ability to -proceed farther in this transaction; and it is your turn, Miss,” he -added, looking at Perdita, “to take the next step.” - -“Granted!” was the reply; and, opening the packet, she handed the -several papers, which were properly classed and numbered, one by one to -the miser,--receiving back each before she gave him the next following. - -Mr. Percival read the documents without much emotion. His pecuniary -avocations had blunted the sentiment of curiosity in his soul: he -viewed the matter only in a business-light;--and so long as the -security was good, he cared not if all the highwaymen in the world -should turn out to be noblemen in their own right. He thought of the -profits that might arise from ministering to the extravagances, as -he supposed, of a young nobleman having excellent certainties in the -perspective; and it was not of the slightest importance to him how -Mrs. Fitzhardinge and Perdita had contrived to inveigle him into their -meshes--how they had gotten possession of the papers--or how the money -raised was to be expended. - -“This is completely satisfactory as far as it goes,” he said, returning -to the young woman the last paper which she had placed in his hand. -“The documents show that Rainford is the real Earl of Ellingham; but -there is no evidence to prove that your Charles Hatfield is his son.” - -“We are well convinced of that fact,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge. - -“Yes--I suppose it may be admitted,” observed Percival, who had not -the least idea that Charles Hatfield had ever passed and was still -passing as the nephew of those whose were really his parents. “But -there is still one question which must be fully cleared up;--and this -is the legitimacy of the young man’s birth. If he be the lawfully -begotten son of the rightful owner of the title and estates of the -Earldom--then is he the heir, beyond all possibility of doubt: but if -he be illegitimate----” - -“The idea is absurd,” interrupted Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “There can be no -hesitation in declaring that Thomas Rainford and Lady Georgiana had -been privately married long before the man himself was condemned to -death: else wherefore should she have exerted her interest to obtain a -pardon for him at the hand of George the Fourth?” - -“I remember the transaction,” said Percival; “and I have no moral doubt -that all you tell me is perfectly correct. Indeed, I am so well assured -of it, that I have not the least objection to discount the note of -hand, on condition that the defective evidence be supplied me before I -am called upon to make further advances.” - -“Most certainly,” exclaimed Perdita. “Charles will give you every -satisfactory proof of the validity of his claims. You require testimony -to show that he is the lawfully begotten son of those who now pass -under the name of Mr. and Lady Georgiana Hatfield?” - -“The certificates of _their_ marriage and _his_ birth,” said the miser. -“Where is the note of hand?” - -Perdita produced it; and a little altercation then arose respecting -the rate of discount. Mrs. Fitzhardinge manifested a greedy anxiety to -conclude the bargain on the miser’s own exorbitant terms: but Perdita -argued the point with him in a resolute manner. At last, however, an -amicable understanding was arrived at; and the miser was permitted -to deduct seventy-five pounds for the discount. Perdita received the -amount which he then told down upon the table; and the old woman’s -features grew distorted with rage--a rage the more intense, because she -was forced to restrain it--when she found that her daughter did not -offer to render her the guardian of the purse. - -But Perdita had that day asserted an empire which she was resolved to -maintain--a domination which she was determined to grasp indivisibly. -Without positively offending or irritating her mother by pointed and -overt insult, she nevertheless had made up her mind to act as the -mistress in all things;--and thus had the punishment of the vile old -woman already begun, even on account of the new schemes of wickedness -which she had set on foot. - -Having secured the precious packet of papers and the money about her -person, the beautiful Perdita rose from her chair, saying, “We may now -take our departure, mother.” - -“One word first!” exclaimed Percival, a sudden reminiscence striking -him: then, turning towards Mrs. Fitzhardinge, he said, “My dear -madam, I have some news to impart which I had almost forgotten in the -absorbing nature of the business that has occupied us for the last -hour,--news which will not a little astonish you----” - -“Then pray keep me no longer in suspense!” exclaimed Mrs. Fitzhardinge, -Perdita’s conduct not having put her into the best of possible humours. - -“Just before you knocked at the door this night----” - -“Well, well?” ejaculated the impatient woman. - -“A man was with me----” - -“And that man?” repeated Mrs. Fitzhardinge, gasping for breath, as if -she anticipated the reply. - -“Was your husband!” added the miser. - -A hideous expression passed over the countenance of Mrs. -Fitzhardinge,--an expression of mingled hate, apprehension, and rage; -and she staggered for a moment as if she were about to fall. - -But subduing her emotions, she approached the miser, and said in a low, -hoarse, grating tone, “Does he know that I am in London?--is he aware -that I am in England--passing by the name of Fitzhardinge----” - -“No--no,” replied Percival hastily: for he saw by the old woman’s -manner that she would not thank him were he to inform her that he had -made her husband acquainted with so many particulars concerning her. - -“You are sure--you are certain?” demanded she, breathing somewhat more -freely. - -“Since Mr. Percival has already answered you satisfactorily, mother, -wherefore require additional assurances?” said Perdita, who was in -haste to depart--for it was now waxing very late. - -“Because I would sooner meet one of those hideous snakes that I have -seen in Australia, than encounter that man!” responded the old woman. -“I know not why,--but I hate him--I loathe and abhor him----” - -“Come along, mother,” interrupted Perdita, impatiently: “Mr. Percival -cares nothing about all this.” - -“True! but one word more,” cried Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “Tell me, sir--is -that man--_my husband_,”--and the words appeared almost to choke -her,--“is he well off--or poor and wretched?” - -“He seemed to be very miserable,” answered the miser;--“so miserable -that he wished to obtain assistance from me! But I--I never give,” he -added, after a moment’s hesitation. - -“I believe you, sir,” remarked Perdita, a faint smile of contempt -curling her haughty but beauteous lip. “Now, mother, at last you are -ready, I presume?” - -“Allow me to light you to the door,” said Percival; and, with a bow, he -preceded the two females into the passage. - -He opened the front door, and Perdita, wishing him “good night” bounded -forth first into the open air--for she felt relieved at escaping from -the miser’s cheerless abode:--her mother followed more slowly--and -just as she passed by Percival, who stood on the threshold officiously -holding the candle, the light streamed fully on the countenance of -the old woman. At that same instant Mrs. Dyer--the widow who lived at -the next house--was returning home from a neighbour’s; and she caught -a complete view of the face of Mrs. Fitzhardinge. It struck the good -woman at the moment that she had seldom beheld such a repulsive, -sinister countenance: but she was accustomed to see strange-looking -people visit the miser’s abode;--and the circumstance therefore made no -particular impression on her mind. - -She merely said “Good night, sir,” to the miser, and forthwith entered -her own abode. - -Percival’s door closed at the same instant; and Mrs. Fitzhardinge -having overtaken her daughter, the two retraced their way to the City -Road, whence they took a cab to Suffolk Street. - - - - -CHAPTER CXXXIX. - -THE MISER ALONE IN HIS DWELLING. - - -Having carefully barred and bolted the street-door, Percival entered -the front room, and assured himself that the shutters were safely -fastened. - -He then returned to the back parlour; and, seating himself at the -table, proceeded to examine the contents of his cash-box. - -[Illustration] - -He looked at the note of hand which he had received that night, and -which bore the signature of _Marston_--for, in compliance with the -suggestion of Mrs. Fitzhardinge, the infatuated Charles Hatfield had -signed the document with the name to which he believed himself to be -entitled. - -The first sensations of the miser, as he fixed his eyes on the “promise -to pay” at a specific date the sum of _one thousand guineas_, were -of pleasure: for he calculated the profit he had derived from the -transaction--and he flattered himself that he had gained seventy -guineas in a single hour. - -“And with so little trouble, too,” he muttered to himself. - -But, in the next moment, a gloomy shade began to cross his countenance: -for the thought stole upon him that perhaps he had acted too -precipitately--that the women might have forged a number of papers to -delude him--that, after all, there might be no such person in existence -as Charles Hatfield, or Viscount Marston. - -“Pshaw!” he exclaimed emphatically, as he endeavoured to banish these -unpleasant reflections from his mind; “it is all right--and I am a fool -thus to yield to misgivings. Why should not Tom Rain be the rightful -Earl of Ellingham? Things more strange and improbable have occurred in -this world. And if he be really the elder brother of the nobleman now -bearing the title, why should he not have a son who is the heir to that -title and likewise to the estates? Yes--yes: it is all feasible enough! -Besides, amongst those papers were the marriage certificate of the late -Earl and Octavia Manners--and the baptismal certificate of their child. -Well, then--granting that there is a Charles Hatfield,--or, in other -words, a Viscount Marston,--what is less extraordinary than that so -beautiful a creature as this Miss Fitzhardinge should have captivated -the young noble? She is a splendid girl--a very splendid girl! Even -in the plain garb which she wore this evening--a sort of disguise, no -doubt--she looked truly bewitching. What eyes!--what a profile!--what -teeth!--what hair! Ah! I wish that I was a young man now--that I had -not these sixty-five winters on my head: I would even yet endeavour to -rival Viscount Marston! But, no--no: that were impossible! These young -girls are smitten with titles more than with money: and, on my honour, -Miss Fitzhardinge will become the rank of Viscountess full well. She -has the dignity--the stateliness--and yet the grace and elegance of a -woman of fashion! All this, doubtless, must be the work of nature: for -where could she have become familiar with the manners and customs of -the drawing-room? Ah! was not that a noise?” - -And the miser, hastily shutting up his cash-box, started to his feet. - -He listened--but all was still! - -“A false alarm,” he murmured to himself--and resumed his seat. - -But the incident had completely disturbed the current of his thoughts -which were flowing into a more voluptuous channel than for years -and years they had done,--the beauty of Perdita having made a deep -impression upon the mind of the miser, and for a few minutes weaned -away his attention from the hitherto all-absorbing gold that he -worshipped so devotedly. - -And now that alarm,--whether false or real, we cannot as yet -determine,--recalled his errant thoughts to the one engrossing subject: -and carefully depositing his cash-box in the safe, he next secured the -safe itself. - -Then, having placed the key in his pocket, he took the candle in his -hand, and once more inspected the street-door--the shutters in the -front-room--and the bolt of the back-gate. - -He descended into the kitchen,--that kitchen which no domestic -occupied, and the hearth of which so seldom sparkled or shone with -blazing coal or wood,--a cursed hearth which, even in the very midst -of summer, seemed cheerless and cold! The area that gave light to the -kitchen-window was strongly barred over: the window itself was likewise -barred;--and the door opening into the area was well secured with bolts -and chains. - -All these multiplied precautions were duly inspected by the miser. -Forgotten now was the image of Perdita:--gold--gold--_his_ gold,--this -was the one absorbing idea! - -No--not the only _one_: for with the thought of possessing gold is ever -associated the dread of losing it;--and at this moment the man’s mind -was a prey to vague fears--undefined alarms--gloomy misgivings. - -He did not like that noise which he had heard:--it haunted him like a -spectre;--it was something that weighed upon his soul like lead. - -He felt--he knew that he was really _alone_ in that house,--aye, and -that the house was lonely in situation likewise: for he could not count -for aid, in case of need, on the elderly widow next door and her two -or three poor female lodgers. Thus, the fact that there _was_ a house -adjoining did not detract from the sense of utter loneliness awakened -in his mind respecting his own abode. - -But were not the bolts secure--the chains fastened--the bars all firm -and strong? Oh! he had not spared his money to obtain the best iron and -the best work when those precautions were adopted: and, since he had -become a miser, he had never paid a bill so cheerfully as that which -the defences of his dwelling had incurred. - -Yes:--the bolts _were_ secure--the chains _were_ well fastened--and the -bars _were_ all firm and strong;--and yet Percival was not at ease in -his mind. - -That unknown, unaccountable noise had alarmed him. It was a noise the -nature of which he could scarcely explain to himself,--nor whether it -had occurred inside or outside the house: no--nor whether it were the -creaking of timber--or the shaking of the shutters--or the sound of a -human voice speaking low, hoarse, and in a disguised tone. - -Having convinced himself that all was secure in the kitchen and the -little scullery at the back, Percival once more ascended to his back -parlour. He looked at his watch, and found it was half an hour past -midnight:--still he felt no inclination to sleep! Vague and oppressive -fears continued to haunt him;--and the more he essayed to wrestle with -his reflections, the more intolerable did they become,--till at last -horrible ideas were forced upon his imagination,--of how misers had -been murdered for their gold--how their blood had been poured out even -on the very treasure-chests to which they clung with desperate tenacity -while the blows of the assassins rained down upon their heads! - -Of all these things he thought; and his brain appeared to whirl. He -cast his eyes around: objects of terror seemed to encounter them in all -directions--for his fevered, excited imagination conjured up the most -horrifying phantoms. - -Suddenly taking his head as it were in his hands, and pressing -it violently, he exclaimed aloud. “Perdition take this cowardly -nervousness! What have I to fear to-night--more than any other? I need -rest--repose--slumber;--and when I awake in the morning, I shall laugh -at myself for the absurd terrors to which I have yielded now!” - -Taking the light in his hand, he was about to quit the room and seek -his chamber up stairs, when a sound, as of the back door slowly -opening, fell upon his ears;--and so great was the alarm with which -this circumstance filled him,--striking him as it were with a sudden -paralysis,--that he let the candle fall upon the floor--and the light -was immediately extinguished. - -Then there was the rush of a man up the stairs leading from the back -door to the parlour;--and in another moment Percival was assailed in -the dark, and in a desperate manner. A heavy blow, as with a bludgeon, -felled him to the ground,--not quite stunning him, but so far depriving -him of his physical energies that he could not even cry out. But he -grasped the murderer by the throat; and a short struggle ensued. The -assassin, however, was armed with the determination, if not with the -strength, of a demon;--and, dashing the miser back on the floor again -with all his force, he seized the bludgeon and wielded it with such -fearful effect, that in a few instants the victim lay motionless and -silent beneath him! - -This fearful crime was accomplished in the dark; and yet the murderer -appeared not to be afraid--nor to lose his presence of mind. It would -also seem that he was acquainted with the nook where the miser’s gold -was concealed: yes--even circumstances more minute still were known to -him. For, stooping down, and passing his hand over the corpse, he felt -in the very pocket where Percival had placed the key of the cupboard -enclosing the iron safe;--and then, groping his way to that cupboard, -he opened it,--opened likewise the iron safe,--and drew forth the tin -case containing the miser’s gold and bank-notes. Breaking open the -lid of the box, the miscreant secured all the coin, notes, and papers -about his person, and then stole away from the dwelling by means of the -back-gate, which he closed behind him. - - * * * * * - -At half-past seven o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Dyer knocked at the -door of the miser’s house, and was somewhat surprised when, five -minutes having elapsed, her summons remained unanswered. - -“Perhaps he has over-slept himself,” she muttered to herself: “I will -come back again presently;”--and the woman returned to her own abode. - -But something like a misgiving had stolen into her mind,--a vague and -indefinable fear--a presentiment against which she could not wrestle. -A gloom had fallen on her spirits: she was in that humour when people -who are in any way superstitious, expect bad news. Not that she had -heard any noise in the course of the night, or that she had any -motive for suspicion:--the feeling that oppressed her was excited by -no accountable and intelligible cause,--unless, indeed, it were that -during the five or six years she had waited upon Mr. Percival, this was -the very first occasion on which she had failed to find him already up -and dressed, and ready to admit her at a stipulated hour. - -Having performed a few domestic duties in her own house--but in a -strange manner, as if she scarcely knew what she was doing,--Mrs. Dyer -returned to the miser’s front-door, at which she knocked again. - -But again there was no response: all was silent. - -The widow-woman was now seriously alarmed; and, hastening back into her -dwelling, she informed her female lodgers that she could not make Mr. -Percival hear next door, and was afraid something had happened. The -three women, to whom these observations were addressed, accompanied her -to the miser’s house; and as all within was still silent as the grave, -they proceeded round to the back-door with the intention of looking -in through the window shutters, which, as we have before stated, were -perforated with many heart-holes. But Mrs. Dyer first happened to try -the back-gate, and, to her surprise, found it unfastened. She and the -other women then entered the house; and their attention, now rendered -keen by dark suspicions, was immediately attracted to the fact that -the part of the door-post into which the bolt of the back-gate fitted, -had been cut away, _from the outside_, in such a manner that it was an -easy affair to slide back the bolt. The females beheld this ominous -appearance with dismay;--but how shuddering were the looks of deep -apprehension which they rapidly and silently exchanged, when they -likewise noticed an old piece of iron still sticking in the lock,--a -sure indication of that lock having been picked, also from the outside! - -Had either one of the women now manifested the least hesitation to -proceed, the others would have gladly followed the example to retreat. -But, huddling all together--and in deep silence--they slowly ascended -the stairs leading to the back parlour. - -The door of this room was half open; and as the widow endeavoured to -push it farther back still, it was stopped by something that evidently -was not a table nor a chair,--no--nor aught made of wood. - -The women slowly entered the parlour:--and then their tongues were -suddenly loosened--and piercing shrieks burst from their lips. For the -prismatic light which streamed through the heart-holes of the closed -shutters, played on the smashed, gory, and disfigured countenance of -the murdered man! - -Terror for a few minutes rooted to the spot the spectatresses of -this horrible spectacle:--and, clinging--hanging to each other, they -remained gazing, in terror and dismay, on the remains of him whom they -had all seen alive and in health on the preceding day! - -At length the female who was nearest to the door seemed suddenly to -recover the use of her limbs; and, with another ejaculation of horror, -she fled precipitately,--her companions following her with a haste -which seemed to indicate that they were afraid lest the murdered man -should stretch forth his hand and clutch the hindermost by the garments. - -Oh! what terrors are inspired by the cold--inanimate--powerless remains -of mortality! And yet men of the strongest minds have had their fears -in this respect;--and heroes who would have faced a serried rank -bristling with bayonets, or hunted the savage tiger in the jungles -of Hindoostan, have feared to remain alone with the corpse of a -fellow-creature! - -Full soon was the dreadful rumour spread throughout the neighbourhood -that the miser Percival had been murdered during the night;--and the -police were speedily upon the spot. - -The dead body indeed presented a hideous spectacle to the view:--the -countenance was so disfigured as to defy recognition;--and the skull -was fractured in several places. By the side of the corpse lay a heavy -stake; and, as it was covered with blood, and some of the hair from -the murdered man’s head was sticking to it, there was no difficulty -in pronouncing it to have been the weapon used by the assassin. The -candlestick was found on the floor close by;--the cupboard and the iron -safe were open;--and the tin-box, emptied of its contents, was stumbled -over by one of the officers. - -Not the slightest suspicion could possibly be attached to the -widow-woman or her lodgers occupying the adjacent house;--but they were -necessarily questioned by the inspector, with a view to elicit any -particulars that might aid the officers of justice in sifting the most -mysterious and horrible affair. - -Mrs. Dyer stated that she had heard no disturbance during the night; -and her lodgers all made a similar declaration. - -“I passed the evening with a neighbour,” said the widow, naming the -friend at whose house she had supped; “and I returned home about -half-past eleven o’clock. Mr. Percival was at that moment taking leave -of some visitors at his own door: and----Oh! I remember now,” exclaimed -Mrs. Dyer, a sudden thought striking her,--“there were two women--one -apparently young, if I might judge by the hasty glimpse I caught of her -figure--for I did not see her face, as she was standing by the gate -opening into the road----” - -“And the other woman?” demanded the inspector. - -“Was old and very ugly,” returned the widow. “I saw her countenance -plainly enough; for the light which Mr. Percival held, streamed full -upon it;--and I thought at the moment that I had never in my life -beheld such a repulsive--horrible-looking creature. I was really -frightened--there was something so unpleasant in her looks.” - -“And was any man with them?” enquired the officer. - -“No: the two women were alone. They took leave of Mr. Percival, and, I -suppose, went away. At all events, I know that he closed his door just -at the same moment that I shut mine. I said ‘Good night’ to him: and -that was the last time I saw the poor gentleman alive.” - -“It is highly important,” observed the inspector, “that we should -find out these two women of whom you speak--as they were, to all -appearances, the last persons who were with the deceased?” - -Mrs. Dyer then gave as accurate a description as she could of the -personal appearance of the old woman whose countenance had struck her -as being so repulsive and sinister;--and the inspector, having left a -couple of officers on the premises where the crime had been committed, -departed to acquaint the Coroner with the dreadful occurrence. - - - - -CHAPTER CXL. - -FRESH SCENES AND MORE TROUBLES AT HOME. - - -While the discovery of the assassination of the old miser was being -made in Pentonville, as just related, a scene of some interest occurred -simultaneously at the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham, in Pall Mall. - -Charles Hatfield had risen early, after having passed a restless night; -and, his toilette being completed, he was just meditating--unpleasantly -meditating on the demeanour that it was proper for him to assume at -the breakfast-table,--when the door opened, and his father entered the -chamber. - -The young man had not encountered his parents since the dispute of -the preceding morning: he had purposely avoided them throughout the -day--not appearing at the dinner-table, and absenting himself likewise -from the usual family meeting at the supper-hour. He therefore felt -himself somewhat disagreeably situated,--being totally unprepared to -meet his father, and having decided on no definite course to pursue -with regard to him. - -“My dear son,” said Mr. Hatfield, approaching and taking the young -man’s hand, “it is necessary that we should have an immediate -explanation. I allude to the occurrences of yesterday morning; and I -regret that you should have adopted the unusual course of absenting -yourself throughout the day----” - -“I returned home between seven and eight last evening,” interrupted -Charles, hastily, but not disrespectfully. - -“I am aware of it,” said Mr. Hatfield, fixing his eyes upon his son -in a penetrating manner. “But you only remained in the house a few -minutes;--and, having visited your chamber, you hurried away again. -Were you afraid to encounter your parents? Remember, Charles, if -you felt that your conduct of the morning had been undutiful and -improper--nay, I will even say _cruel_, towards us--yet a single word -expressive of contrition would have made us open our arms to receive -you.” - -“You denounce my behaviour as cruel towards you,” exclaimed Charles: -“but did you not first provoke _me_, father?--did you not call me harsh -names? And if, in return, I complained of what I considered to be the -unnatural conduct of my parents toward me----” - -“Wherefore thus pertinaciously endeavour to penetrate into those -secrets which, for good and salutary reasons, your parents keep -concealed from you?” demanded Mr. Hatfield: “for I presume that you -allude to the fact of our still desiring that you should pass as our -nephew.” - -“You have assured me that I am legitimate--that there is no stigma -upon my birth,” cried Charles;--“then wherefore not acknowledge me as -your son? You claim from me the duty of a son--and yet you deny me the -title! And again I must remind you, father, that to an accident alone -am I indebted for the knowledge of my birth!” - -“I would ask you, Charles,” said Mr. Hatfield, in a serious and -impressive tone, “what all this has to do with the proposal of marriage -that you made to Lady Frances Ellingham: for it was on _this_ point -that our dispute commenced yesterday morning. Am I to suppose that my -son, being unwilling to contract an alliance so honourable to him, -seeks other grounds whereon to base his design of flying in the face -of his parents?--am I to conclude that, being resolved to thwart us in -this--our dearest hope, you seize upon another and ignoble pretext to -justify your rebellion against us!” - -“No--ten thousand times _No_!” exclaimed the young man, cruelly hurt by -these suspicions. “In first place, I do not love Lady Frances Ellingham -otherwise than as a brother may love a sister----” - -“Because,” interrupted Mr. Hatfield, fixing his eyes sternly upon -his son,--“because you have formed some connexion of which you are -ashamed----” - -“Ah!” cried Charles, starting violently. “Has my father acted the spy -upon me?” - -“Listen,” said Mr. Hatfield, to whose countenance the indignant -blood rushed as his son thus insolently addressed him: but he chose -to controul his feelings--and he succeeded: “listen, Charles--and -then decide whether you ought to judge me so harshly. Your conduct -of yesterday morning towards your mother and myself was of such an -extraordinary--unaccountable--distressing nature, that you cannot blame -me if I resolved to discover the motives that had actuated you. In -this determination I was fixed by your protracted absence throughout -the day--your stealthy return in the evening--your short visit to your -own chamber--your avoidance of all the inmates of this house--and -your hasty and also stealthy departure again. I confess, then, that I -followed you last evening----” - -“You followed me, father?” repeated Charles, in a low, hoarse, and -hollow voice. - -“Yes--I followed you to Suffolk Street,” continued Mr. Hatfield, -with a firmness and a cool determination of tone and manner which he -hoped would overawe the rebellious young man: “and, on inquiry in the -neighbourhood, I learnt that at the house which you entered, dwells a -very beautiful young lady. Now, I give you my honour, Charles, that I -asked no more--was told no more than this one fact. I have no desire to -become acquainted with the _liaisons_ of my son:--indeed, I know that -young men will be--what shall we call it?---_gay_, if you will. All I -wished to ascertain was whether there were any grounds for supposing -that you had formed a connexion which you may believe to have _love_ -for its basis, and which induced you yesterday morning to refuse the -fulfilment of your own offer to Lady Frances Ellingham.” - -“Father,” said Charles Hatfield, scarcely able to restrain an outburst -of indignation, reproach, and bitter recrimination,--in which, had he -allowed that torrent of feelings to force a vent, all that he knew -of his family and their secrets would have been revealed, or rather -proclaimed, in no measured terms;--“father,” he said, fortunately -subduing the evil promptings of the moment,--“I have listened to -you with attention--though not without impatience. Yesterday you -reviled me--you heaped bitter reproaches upon me--you menaced me with -disinheritance: then, in the evening, you enacted the spy upon my -actions--you watched me--you followed me----” - -“It was my duty--and a most painful one, I can assure you,” interrupted -Mr. Hatfield, alarmed by the strange--the ominous coldness that -characterised his son’s tone and manner. - -“Your duty!” ejaculated Charles, now speaking with an indignation that -burst forth in frightful contrast with the unnatural tranquillity on -which it so abruptly broke; “and wherefore have you not performed -your duty in all things? Duty, indeed! But know, father, that there -are other duties to fulfil than merely playing the part of a spy on -your son’s actions:--there are such duties as giving him his proper -name--allowing him to assume his just rights--and placing him in -that social position which he ought to occupy! You menace me with -the loss of fortune, father?--Oh! you know how vain and ridiculous -is this threat--and how it aggravates the wickedness of all your -former conduct towards me! I am no longer a child to be held in -leading-strings--no longer a silly sentimentalist who, through maudlin -and mawkish feelings of a false delicacy, will consent to have my -nearest and dearest interests trampled upon--my privileges altogether -withheld--my rights cruelly denied me! You have played the mysterious -too long,--you have enacted the cruel and unnatural until endurance has -become impossible;--and now you would assume the part of the absolute -dictator--expecting to find me still a pliant, docile, grovelling -slave,--without spirit--without courage--without even the common -feelings of a man! But you are mistaken, father:--and if I have thus -been driven to tell you my mind, you have only yourself to reproach, -for so distressing--so painful a scene!” - -Thus speaking,--and before his father had so far recovered from the -amazement into which this volley of words threw him, as to be able -even to stretch out a hand to retain him,--Charles seized his hat, and -rushed from the room. - -In less than a minute the front-door of the house closed behind him; -and he hurried on, like one demented, to Suffolk Street. - -But before we accompany him thither, we must pause to explain the -effect which this scene had upon his father. - -Indeed, Mr. Hatfield was struck with an astonishment so profound--a -bewilderment so complete, that his heart seemed as if it were numbed -against pain. He could not comprehend the drift of Charles’s passionate -address,--otherwise than by supposing that the young man required to -be recognised as a son, and not as a nephew. For it did not--as, in -fact, it could not--for a single moment enter Mr. Hatfield’s head that -Charles had discovered all the occurrences of former years, and that -he had thence drawn the false and fatal inference that he--this same -infatuated young man--was the heir to the proud title and vast estates -of the Earldom of Ellingham. He therefore saw in his son’s conduct only -the rebellious spirit of an individual who, having formed a connexion -of which he was most likely ashamed and which he knew to be improper, -endeavoured to meet his parents’ reproaches with recriminations, and -seize upon the least shadow of an excuse or pretext for resisting the -paternal authority. - -When reflection thus diminished the wonderment which Mr. Hatfield -experienced at the behaviour of the young man, pain and sorrow -succeeded that first feeling. Indeed, the unhappy father was cruelly -embarrassed: he knew not how to act. Charles was of that age -when,--even did circumstances permit Mr. Hatfield to acknowledge that -he really was his son,--no legal authority could be exercised, nor -constraint practised; and he felt assured that any farther attempt to -interfere with him in the connexion which he had formed, would only -aggravate the irritability of the wrong-headed young man. - -Then again, it was impossible to abandon him thus to courses which -might hurry him on to utter ruin;--and moreover, the Lady Frances -Ellingham had been so cruelly trifled with, that an explanation with -_her_ parents became absolutely necessary. - -Now was it that Mr. Hatfield cursed the hour when he had been -induced to leave Italy, and return to England on this visit to his -half-brother--a visit which the Earl had by letter urged him to pay, -and to which he had assented in full confidence of the complete safety -of the step. - -Bewildered with the variety of his conflicting thoughts, and feeling -the necessity as well as recognising the propriety of consulting the -Earl, Mr. Hatfield repaired to the library, whence he despatched a -message to the nobleman requesting his lordship to join him there as -speedily as possible:--for it still wanted upwards of half-an-hour to -the usual breakfast time. - -The Earl of Ellingham was just issuing from his chamber when the -message was delivered to him; and, immediately apprehending some evil -news, he hastened to the library, where he found his half-brother -pacing up and down in an agitated manner. - -Mr. Hatfield, without any disguise, hesitation, or circumlocution, -immediately unfolded to the Earl all that had taken place, both on that -and the preceding day, in respect to Charles;--and Arthur listened with -emotions of mingled pain, astonishment, and apprehension. - -“Much as it would have delighted me,” he at length observed, “to -witness the union of my daughter and your son, Thomas, I cannot for a -moment recommend that the young man’s inclinations should be forced. -Such an union seemed necessary--almost imperiously necessary under -the peculiar circumstances in which we are placed. While you, the -elder brother, renounce the title which is your just right--I, the -younger one, have long borne it and bear it still;--though, heaven -knows that I value it indeed but little----However,” added the Earl, -interrupting himself hastily,--“I was about to observe that, situated -as we thus are, it appears but natural and proper that your son should -receive a positive and acknowledged admission into the family by -means of an alliance with my daughter. And she, poor girl--she loves -him,” continued the nobleman, his voice faltering; “and he has acted -unwisely--to use no harsher term--in declaring an attachment which he -does not feel, and making a proposal which he cannot accomplish.” - -“I am at a loss how to act!” said Mr. Hatfield. “My God!” he cried, in -a tone expressive of deep feeling, “am I ever to be the means of giving -annoyance and vexation to you, my dear Arthur,--you, who have been so -kind and generous a friend to me?” - -“Not on _this_ account must you distress yourself, Thomas,” returned -the Earl, emphatically: “you are not responsible for the wayward -humours of your son. But surely this sudden manifestation of a -rebellious disposition on his part, cannot arise wholly and solely from -the connexion which you believe him to have formed. Have you enquired -concerning the character of the women--the mother and daughter--whom he -visits in Suffolk-street?” - -“No: I contented myself with ascertaining that at the house which I saw -him enter, there is a young lady of very extraordinary beauty.” - -“And are you convinced that Charles has learnt nothing relative to the -events of former years--nothing calculated to diminish----” - -“I understand you, Arthur,” said Mr. Hatfield, seeing that his -half-brother hesitated: “you would ask whether I have any reason -to believe that he has learnt aught which may have a tendency to -diminish the respect he had until within these two days past maintained -towards his parents? On this head I am of course unable to answer you -positively: but my impression is that he is as much as ever in the dark -relative to the dread occurrences of the past. Indeed, how can he have -possibly learnt a single fact----” - -“May not the discovery that he is your _son_, and not your nephew, -have induced him to seek for farther information?” enquired the Earl -of Ellingham. “May not some sentiment of ardent curiosity have been -awakened within him----” - -“But where could he address himself to this task of raising the veil -from the mysteries of by-gone years--even if he have the slightest -ground to suspect that such mysteries do exist?” demanded Mr. Hatfield, -interrupting the Earl. “To what source could he repair for the means of -elucidation?” - -“I know not: and yet--I am now impressed with suspicions of a most -unpleasant nature,” observed the Earl. “It is very essential that some -immediate step should be taken to redeem this fine young man from a -career of error--perhaps of depravity----” - -“Oh! yes--yes!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield. “My God! if the sins of -the father be in this case visited upon the son, life will become -intolerable to me!--Rather would I at once have a full and complete -understanding with Charles,--tell him all--yes, _all_,--reveal to him -who I really am--open to him the means of a complete retrospection, -embracing all my sad history,--and then throw myself on his -mercy--imploring him at least to have pity upon his innocent mother, if -not on me who am so guilty!” - -“No--no, Thomas: this humiliation may not be!” ejaculated the Earl. -“For if, as you believe, your son has at present no suspicion of the -past, it would be madness to make unnecessary revelations.” - -“I am bewildered--cruelly perplexed: I know not how to act!” cried Mr. -Hatfield. “Oh! if I were confident that he has no such suspicions--that -he has learnt or surmised nothing calculated to diminish the respect -due to his mother and myself----” - -“How can he have fathomed the obscurity which hangs over your former -life?” demanded the Earl. “And as to supposing that he could, by any -possible means, obtain even the shadow of an idea of your real birth -and parentage----” - -“No: for the papers--those important papers which I gave you years ago, -and which I requested you to destroy,--those papers, I say,” exclaimed -Mr. Hatfield, “could alone make such important revelations to my son: -and, thank heaven! they are not in existence.” - -“My dear brother,” returned the Earl of Ellingham, taking Mr. -Hatfield’s hand, and speaking in a very serious tone, “I most frankly -and honestly inform you that those papers have _not_ been destroyed. At -the same time, they have been kept in a place of perfect security--a -secret recess known only to myself----” - -“And wherefore were not such dangerous documents burnt--annihilated!” -asked Mr. Hatfield, in a reproachful tone. - -“I dared not perform a deed which would argue so much selfishness on -my part,” replied the Earl of Ellingham, now speaking with a strong -emphasis--the result and impulse of his generous, lofty, honourable -feelings. “So long as those papers remain in existence, you, my dear -brother, can at any moment say to me, ‘_I repent of the step which -I took in renouncing my just rights and privileges; and I now claim -them_:’--and should you at any time thus address me, it would only be -for me to produce the papers that establish your claims.” - -“Oh! Arthur, you are generous--even to a fault!” exclaimed Mr. -Hatfield. “You know--or, at least, I again assure you for the hundredth -time, that not for worlds would I heap disgrace on a noble name by -daring to assume it! Merciful heavens! shall the coronet which becomes -you so well, be snatched from your brows, and transferred to those -of----” - -“Hush! Thomas--hush! this excitement is most unnecessary,” interrupted -the Earl. “You must not blame me for the motives which induced me to -keep the documents;--and now--if you will have them restored to you----” - -“Yes--yes: give them to me, Arthur,” cried Mr. Hatfield, resolving to -destroy the papers without farther delay. - -“You claim them--they are yours--and they shall at once be returned -into your hands,” said the nobleman. “But I conjure you to act not -hastily nor rashly----” - -“Fear nothing, Arthur,” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield: “but give me the -papers! There is no time to lose--the ladies will be waiting for us at -the breakfast-table----” - -“True!” ejaculated the Earl: and, approaching that shelf at the back -of which the secret recess was formed, he said, “Once every year have -I inspected this well concealed depository: once every year have I -assured myself that the precious documents were safe;--and on those -occasions, I have cleansed them of the dust which even accumulates in a -place that is almost hermetically sealed.” - -As the Earl thus spoke, he took down from the shelf the books which -stood immediately before the recess; and Mr. Hatfield, receiving the -volumes in his hands, placed them upon the table. While performing this -simple and almost mechanical act, his eyes were suddenly attracted to -the name and date of one of the books;--and his looks were rivetted, as -it were, on the words--“_Annual Register, 1827_.” - -For the nature of the volume and the date of the year whose -incidents it recorded, suddenly revived the poignancy of many bitter -recollections, the sharpness of which had been somewhat blunted by -time: and it was in a moment of strange nervousness--or idiosyncratic -excitement, that he opened the book which thus had aroused those -painful memories. - -An ejaculation of horror--irrepressible horror--escaped his lips: for -he had lighted on the very page which contained the account of his -_Execution_ at Horsemonger Lane:--and at the very same instant a cry of -mingled amazement and alarm burst from the Earl of Ellingham. - -“Oh! is this a mere accident?” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield: “or a -warning----” - -“Merciful heaven--the papers!” ejaculated the nobleman. - -“A warning that my son has seen this?” added the unhappy father, almost -distracted with the idea. - -“Some miscreant has done this!” cried the Earl, stamping his foot with -rage: and it was seldom that _he_ thus gave way to his passion. - -The brothers turned towards each other--exchanging hasty glances of -mutual and anxious enquiry. - -“The papers are gone!” said the Earl, clasping his hands in despair. - -“Gone!” repeated Mr. Hatfield, staggering as if struck by a sudden -blow. “And this book--this book,” he faltered, in a faint tone, “was -in the immediate vicinity of the recess! He who took the papers--might -have read also--in that volume--the terrible account----” - -Mr. Hatfield could say no more: overpowered by his feelings, he sank -exhausted on the nearest seat. - -The Earl glanced at the open page which his half-brother had indicated; -and, observing the nature of the statement there recorded, he instantly -comprehended the cause of Mr. Hatfield’s emotions, and also of the -suspicions which had suddenly seized upon him. - -“Yes--yes: this book has been read lately,” said Arthur, in an excited -and hurried manner: “behold! the corners of the covers have been -recently injured. Oh! my God! what does all this mean?” - -It will be recollected that on the memorable night when Charles -Hatfield pursued his successful researches in the library, he had -hurled away from him, in his rage and almost maddening grief, the -volume that made such strange--such appalling revelations: and the -violence of the action had so far injured the book, as to bend and -graze the corners of the binding,--the marks of the injury remaining -clearly visible, and the white interior of the leather being laid bare, -and thus proving how recently the work had been used. - -“The book has been read very lately,” murmured Mr. Hatfield, in a -musing tone; “and the papers have perhaps been stolen lately---” - -“Yes,” exclaimed the Earl: “for not a month has elapsed since I -inspected that recess and found them safe.” - -“Then who could have done this?” cried Mr. Hatfield, starting from -his seat, in a sudden access of excitement which was accompanied by a -return of moral and physical energy. “Oh! is it possible that Charles -is the author of all that seems so mysterious? Has he searched for -the records of my earlier life?--has he by accident discovered and -purloined those papers--those fatal papers?” - -“Yes--it must be he!” exclaimed the Earl: “for did you not tell me that -he spoke of claims--and rights--and privileges unjustly withheld,--and -that be has harped upon what he termed the unnatural conduct of his -parents in concealing from him the secret of his birth? Thomas--my -dear Thomas,” continued Lord Ellingham, speaking in a lower--more -measured--and more impressive tone, “I can see it all! That young man -has found out who you are: be has learnt that you are the rightful heir -to the honours and estates which I enjoy;--and, believing himself to be -your legitimate son--according to the assurance that you were forced, -for your wife’s sake, to give him--the deluded, deceived Charles -Hatfield fancies himself to be the lawful heir to the Earldom!” - -“You have divined the truth, Arthur!” cried Mr. Hatfield, his heart -wrung to its very core by all the maddening fears and torturing -reflections which were thus suddenly excited within him. “Oh! what -dreadful embarrassments--what frightful complications, will this -misapprehension entail on my unhappy son--on you--on me--on all who are -connected with us!” - -“There is not a moment to lose!” exclaimed Lord Ellingham. “We must -hasten after this infatuated young man----” - -At that moment the door opened; and Clarence Villiers entered the -library,--the Earl having requested him on the previous day to visit -him at the hour when, true to the appointment, he thus made his -appearance. - -Villiers, perceiving at the first glance, that something unusual -was agitating Lord Ellingham and Mr. Hatfield, was about to retire, -when the Earl, beckoning him to advance, turned hastily round to his -half-brother, and said in a hurried whisper, “We will entrust this -matter to Villiers: he will conduct it with less excitement than you -and I; and, as he knows your secret----” - -“Yes:--but all he _does_ know is that the Mr. Hatfield of -to-day is identical with the Thomas Rainford of former times,” -interrupted the Earl’s half-brother, also speaking in a low and -hasty tone: “remember--he is unacquainted with aught of our family -secrets--ignorant of the parentage of Charles----” - -“Neither is it necessary that he should be made acquainted with all -these facts,” interrupted Arthur:--“but leave the matter to me.” Then, -turning towards Clarence, he said, “My dear Mr. Villiers, you come most -opportunely to render us an important service. We have every reason -to believe that Charles has formed an improper connexion with a young -female of great beauty, residing with her mother in very handsome -lodgings in Suffolk Street: we likewise conclude that he is there -at this present moment. Hasten thither, my good friend--demand an -immediate interview with Charles--and tell him that certain discoveries -have been made at home, in which he is deeply interested. In a word, -compel him to accompany you away from the designing women who have -doubtless entangled him in their meshes----” - -“Nay: let us not judge hastily,” cried Mr. Hatfield: “remember--I -have heard nothing against the characters of these ladies; and it -may be a virtuous and honest affection, after all, that renders -Charles a visitor at their house. Let Mr. Villiers, then, act with -circumspection--and behave with the strictest courtesy towards these -ladies, should he encounter them.” - -“Yes--but under any circumstances you must persuade Charles to return -with you immediately to this house,” said the Earl. “Mr. Hatfield -will acquaint you with the precise address of the lodgings in Suffolk -Street----” - -The Earl’s half-brother mentioned the number of the dwelling to which -he had traced his son on the preceding evening;--adding, “The name of -the ladies is Fitzhardinge--and I heard that the daughter bears the -singular denomination of _Perdita_.” - -“Perdita!” cried Villiers, starting violently. “Oh! if this be the -case----unhappy, lost Charles Hatfield!” - -“Good heavens! what mean you?” demanded the wretched father, rendered -terribly anxious by those ominous words that fell on his ears like a -death-knell. - -“Two ladies--mother and daughter--dwelling together--and the -girl named _Perdita_,” mused Clarence Villiers, not immediately -heeding the earnest appeal of Mr. Hatfield: “yes--yes--it must be -they!--my aunt--my wretched, wretched aunt who has returned from -transportation--and her profligate but beauteous daughter!” - -“Do you mean that Mrs. Slingsby who--years ago--you know to what I -allude?” asked Mr. Hatfield, in a hurried tone, as he grasped Clarence -violently by the wrist. - -“Yes--I _do_ mean that bad woman!” exclaimed Villiers, who had now -become painfully excited in his turn: “and I regret--Oh! I regret to -say that she has brought over to England her daughter, whom report -mentions as an angel of beauty and a demon in profligacy----” - -“My God! Mr. Villiers--save Charles--save my Charles from these -incarnate fiends!” cried Mr. Hatfield. “Or I myself----” - -And he was rushing to the door of the library, when the Earl held him -back, saying, “No, Thomas--you must not go in this excited state: let -Villiers take the affair in hand.” - -Mr. Hatfield fell back into a seat, a prey to the most painful--the -most agonising emotions; while Clarence hurriedly departed to execute -the commission entrusted to him. - -The Earl now addressed himself to the task of consoling his unfortunate -brother-in-law;--and he had just succeeded in inducing Mr. Hatfield to -assume as composed a demeanour as possible, preparatory to their joint -appearance at the breakfast-table, when Clarence Villiers rushed into -the room. - -Not a quarter of an hour had elapsed since his departure;--and this -speedy return, together with his agitated manner, raised new alarms in -the breasts of the Earl and Mr. Hatfield. - -“They are gone--fled--all three together!” cried Villiers, throwing -himself exhausted on an ottoman, and panting for breath. - -“Gone!” repeated the miserable father, surveying Clarence with eyes -that stared wildly and unnaturally. - -“Yes--gone!” said Villiers. “Ten minutes before I reached Suffolk -Street, my aunt, her daughter, and Mr. Charles departed in a -post-chaise, which had been sent for apparently in consequence of some -sudden plan: for the people of the house were previously unacquainted -with the intention of their lodgers thus to leave so abruptly.” - -“But where was the chaise hired? and which road has it taken?” demanded -Mr. Hatfield, now manifesting an energy and determination that proved -his readiness to meet the emergency and adopt measures to pursue the -fugitives. - -“I sought for that information in vain,” returned Clarence Villiers. -“It appears that my aunt herself went out to order the post-chaise; -and that care was taken not to allow the people of the house any -opportunity to converse with the post-boys. The rent and other -liabilities were all duly paid; and the landlady of the lodgings -accordingly makes no complaint of the women who have quitted her abode.” - -“What course do you intend to adopt?” hastily demanded the Earl, -turning to his half-brother. - -“Order me your best horse to be saddled forthwith,” said Mr. Hatfield; -“and I will proceed in pursuit of the runaways. ’Tis ten to one that -I will obtain some trace of them. Perhaps Mr. Villiers will likewise -mount horse, and take the northern road.” - -“While I shall do the same, and pursue a westerly direction,” observed -the Earl. - -“Good: for it was my intention to choose the route towards Dover,” -added Mr. Hatfield. “And now one word more, Arthur,” he continued, -the moment Villiers had left the room to give the necessary orders -respecting the horses: “as it is probable that we may recover and -reclaim my self-willed son--and as, in that case, penitence on his part -might induce you to forgive this absurd freak, so that the result may -yet be favourable to our nearest and dearest wishes,--under all these -circumstances, I say, suffer not Frances to learn aught disparaging to -his character.” - -“I understand you, Thomas,” exclaimed the Earl, wringing his -half-brother’s hand in token of cordial assent to this proposition. “I -will even speak as warily and cautiously as I may to my wife;--while, -on your side----” - -“Oh! I must tell every thing to Georgiana,” said Mr. Hatfield: -“suspense and uncertainty would be intolerable to her. I shall now seek -her for the purpose of making a hasty but most sad communication: and -then away in pursuit of the ingrate!” - -A quarter of an hour afterwards, the Earl of Ellingham, Mr. Hatfield, -and Clarence Villiers--all three equipped for their journeys--repaired -to the nobleman’s stables in the immediate vicinity of the -mansion;--and thence they speedily issued forth, well mounted, and each -taking a separate direction. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLI. - -THE FLIGHT. - - -Upon breaking away from the presence of his father, in the manner -already described, Charles Hatfield hurried to the house in Suffolk -Street; and bursting into the room where Mrs. Fitzhardinge and Perdita -were seated at breakfast, he exclaimed, “I have at length thrown off -all allegiance to my parents;--and I must now act wholly and solely for -my own interests.” - -“Not altogether for _your own_, Charles--dear Charles,” said Perdita, -fixing upon him a plaintive and half-reproachful look, which made her -appear ravishingly beautiful in his eyes. - -“No--not altogether for myself will I act,” he cried, embracing -her tenderly: “but for thee also, my angel--yes, for thee whom I -love--adore--worship!” - -“What has occurred this morning to render your lordship thus agitated?” -enquired Mrs. Fitzhardinge. - -“Oh! a quarrel with my father,” exclaimed Charles, who, in the -enthusiasm of his blind devotion to Perdita, had forgotten the old -woman’s presence. “He has played the part of a spy upon me--he has -followed me to your door--he knows that I visit you--and he will -doubtless endeavour to cause a breach between us!” - -“Let us depart hence--now--at a moment’s warning!” cried Perdita. “We -have ample funds for the purpose. Last night a money-lender discounted -your note, Charles: and I have the proceeds safe in my own keeping.” - -“Fortune favours us, then!” said the infatuated young man. “Yes--we -will depart without delay: we will hasten to some retired place where -we can deliberate, fearless of interruption, on the course which it -will now be necessary for me to pursue.” - -“I will hasten to order a past-chaise,” observed Mrs. Fitzhardinge. -“This task had better be performed by myself--so that we may leave -behind us no trace of the route we shall have taken.” - -“Thanks--a thousand thanks, my dear madam!” cried Charles: then, -when the old woman had left the room, he caught Perdita in his arms -and pressing her fondly to his bosom, said, “My parents are resolved -to force me into a marriage with Lady Frances Ellingham--they would -separate me from you----” - -“Oh! Charles--were such a destiny in store for me,” said Perdita, -affecting to be melted to tears, “I should not be able to bear up -against the misfortune. For on you are all my hopes now fixed,--to you -have I given my heart--irrevocably given it;--and were you the veriest -mendicant on the face of the earth, I would never cease to love you as -now I love!” - -[Illustration] - -“Adored Perdita!” cried the young man, enraptured by the tender words -and the enchanting manner of the syren, as he strained her to his -breast and imprinted a thousand kisses on her brow, her cheeks, and her -lips. “Oh! never--never could I prove faithless to thee, my beloved -Perdita! Would that you were mine indissolubly--that you were mine by -the rites of the Church and the sanction of the law;--for then we might -defy the world to separate us!” - -“Would you have me renounce the peculiar opinions which I have formed?” -asked Perdita, her heart palpitating with joy--for the young man had -thus, of his own accord, broached the delicate subject on which she -longed to speak, yet knew not how to begin. “Because, if such be -your wish, my beloved Charles, I will make even the sacrifice of my -strongest prejudices to your heart’s desire----” - -“Now, indeed, do I know that you love me, sweetest--dearest girl!” -interrupted Charles, experiencing ineffable happiness at the idea of -possessing the beauteous Perdita on terms which would not render him -ashamed of his connexion. “Yes--yes: I _do_ demand that sacrifice at -your hands;--and, if you yield to my wishes in this respect, I shall -receive your assent as the most eloquent--the most convincing proof -of the attachment you avow! And, moreover, Perdita--dearest, dearest -Perdita--I shall be so rejoiced to place a coronet on that fair brow of -thine,--so proud to present thee to the world as my wife! Never--never -will enraptured husband have experienced a triumph so complete as that -which will be mine, when I shall conduct thee--so radiant, so dazzling -in thy beauty--amongst the friends whom the declaration of my rank -will gather around me,--and when I shall introduce thee, adored one, -as the Viscountess Marston! Yes--I shall indeed be proud of thee, my -angel;--and now--will you not breathe the word that is to promise me -all this triumph and all this joy?--will you not say, ‘_Charles, for -thy sake, I will accompany thee to the altar, and wed thee according -to the rites of the Protestant Church and the exigences of the -community_!’” - -“Oh! not for another instant can I hesitate, my well beloved--my -handsome--my generous Charles!” exclaimed the syren, casting her arms -round his neck, and pressing him as if in rapture to her glowing bosom: -then, in the sweetest, most dulcet intonations of her melodious voice, -she said, “Yes--Charles, for thy sake, I will accompany thee to the -altar, and will wed thee according to the rites of the Protestant -Church and the usages of that society in which we live!” - -“Now am I supremely happy!” cried Charles Hatfield, his tone and manner -fully corroborating his words. “We will repair to Paris, my beloved -Perdita--for there we can be united by the chaplain of the British -Embassy without an instant’s unnecessary delay; and thence also can I -write to my father, solemnly and formally calling upon him to assert -his right to the peerage which he has so long permitted his younger -brother to usurp. And in Paris my Perdita will be the cynosure of all -interest----” - -“Oh! yes--let us visit that delightful city of which I have heard so -much!” interrupted the young woman, her eyes gleaming resplendently -with the pleasing sensations excited by the idea. “But I must now leave -you for a moment, to prepare for this sudden journey--as my mother -cannot be long before she returns.” - -Perdita rose from the sofa, and hastened from the room, kissing her -hand with playful fondness to her lover as she crossed the threshold. -Even that simple action on her part excited the most ravishing feelings -in his soul;--for as she thus turned round for an instant ere the -door closed behind her, his looks swept all the fulness--all the -contours--all the rich proportions of her voluptuous form,--while the -morning sun-light, rosy from the hues of the hangings through which it -penetrated, shone on her beauteous countenance, giving splendour to the -fine large eyes, freshness to the vermilion lips, and a halo to her -glossy hair! - -She disappeared; and Charles, who had risen from his seat -simultaneously with herself, advanced to the window. The street was -quiet;--but the sounds of the rapid vehicles in Cockspur Street met his -ears;--and he wondered whether the post-chaise were yet approaching the -dwelling. - -This idea led him to ponder on the step which he was about to -take;--and a sensation of sadness slowly crept upon him, as he -reflected that he was on the point of leaving his home--abandoning his -parents and friends! The recollection of his mother smote him--smote -him painfully;--and yet he did not seek by inward, silent reasoning -to improve this better state of feeling, and act upon its warnings. -No:--with that perverseness which so frequently characterises those -who are on the point of adopting a measure which they secretly know to -be injudicious and unwisely precipitate--even if no worse,--he sought -in sophistry and specious mental argument an apology for his conduct. -Again he reminded himself that his parents had acted unnaturally -towards him,--and that their uniform conduct in this respect had now -been followed up by harshness, upbraidings, menaces, and _espionnage_, -on the part of his father. Then he feasted his imagination with -the thoughts of possessing Perdita:--in a few days she would be -his--irrevocably his, and in a manner which would enable him to -present her proudly to the world as his wedded wife. From this strain -of meditations he glided into glorious, gorgeous, visions of future -greatness:--the words, “My Lord,” and “Your Lordship,” only so recently -addressed to him, sounded like delicious music in his ears;--and -his painful reflections were subdued by the feelings of triumph now -once more awakened within him. Love--ambition--hope,--all--all his -yearnings, all his cravings were now on the point of being gratified: -he should cast off that parental yoke which had latterly weighed so -heavily upon him;--he was about to visit Paris--he would appear as -a Viscount, and with a beauteous bride, in the sphere of fashion -the most refined, elegance the most perfect, and civilisation the -most consummate,--and he already fancied himself walking in the -delicious gardens of the Tuileries, with Perdita--the observed of all -observers--leaning fondly on his arm! - -These visions--sweeping like a gorgeous pageantry through his excited -imagination--brought him to that state of mind, in which all regrets -were banished--all remorse was forgotten;--and when Perdita returned -to the apartment, ready attired for the journey, he flew towards -her--he wound his arms around her wasp-like waist, and pressed her -enthusiastically to his bosom. - -This was the first time that he had seen her in a walking-dress;--and -he thought that she even appeared more ravishingly beautiful than -when in her morning _déshabillée_, or her drawing-room garb. The -pink crape bonnet, adorned with artificial flowers, set off her fine -countenance with such admirable effect:--the flowing drapery of the -elegant summer-shawl meandered over the proportions of the symmetrical -form--developing each contour with its wavy undulations:--and the -straw-coloured kid gloves, fitting tightly to a fault, described the -shape of the beautiful tapering fingers. - -“You are lovely beyond the loveliness of woman!” murmured Charles -Hatfield, surveying her with an admiration the most unfeigned--the most -sincere. - -“And you, Charles--are not you my own handsome, dearly beloved -Charles--so soon to be my husband?” asked Perdita. “You said just -now that you should be proud to present me as your wife to your -friends:--Oh! I feel--yes, I feel that I shall also be proud to be so -presented. My mind seems to have undergone a complete change since I -made you that promise to wed you at the altar;--and you must forget, -dear Charles, that I ever wished it otherwise!” - -Hatfield, for all answer, impressed a burning kiss upon her rosy -lips;--and the young woman’s eyes became soft and melting in -expression--voluptuous and languid with desire. - -At this instant her mother returned, with the announcement that the -post-chaise would be at the door in less than a quarter of an hour; -and the old woman hastened to the bed-rooms to pack up the trunks. -Her daughter, who kept the purse, then gave her the necessary money -to liquidate all liabilities due to the landlady of the house; and -while this was being done, Perdita placed the gold and Bank-notes in -Charles’s hand, saying, “In the excitement of the morning’s incidents I -forgot to tender you this amount before.” - -“Henceforth all that I have is yours equally, my beloved,” said the -young man, as he secured the money about his person. - -The post-chaise-and-four now appeared; and while the trunks were -being strapped on to the vehicle, Mrs. Fitzhardinge superintended the -process, apparently with the bustling officiousness of an old woman -of particular habits, but in reality to prevent any communication -between the post-boys and the people of the dwelling;--for she knew how -inquisitive lodging-house keepers were apt to be, and that postilions -were proportionately communicative. - -At length all the arrangements were completed;--Charles handed his -Perdita into the vehicle--manifested the same politeness towards the -old mother--and then entered it himself. Mrs. Fitzhardinge had placed -herself with her back to the horses, on an imperious sign from Perdita -to that effect;--so that the young couple were next to each other on -the same seat. - -The post-chaise rolled rapidly away from Suffolk Street, and passed -down Whitehall towards Westminster Bridge. So long as the wheels -rattled over the stones, but little conversation took place inside -the vehicle,--though Charles and Perdita conveyed to each other many -tender assurances by means of the eloquent language of the eyes and -the pressure of hands. When, however, the chaise emerged from the more -crowded, thoroughfares of the metropolis, and entered upon the Dover -Road, the travelling party were enabled to discourse at ease. - -The day was very sultry;--but the upper part of the barouche was now -thrown open; and the speed at which they travelled, created a current -of air that mitigated the intensity of the heat. However, Perdita put -up her parasol; and as the faces of the happy pair were not very far -apart, the silk canopy, circumscribed though it were, shaded those fine -countenances which really seemed made to be side by side with each -other,--both being so handsome! - -For a short time the conversation was general amongst the -three:--gradually, however, Mrs. Fitzhardinge was, as it were, excluded -from its range--not rudely so,--but because it became of a tender -description between the young gentleman and her daughter;--and then it -languished somewhat, inasmuch as the old woman was a restraint upon -them. - -At length there was a pause altogether; but still Charles and Perdita -felt no weariness in each other’s society. They gazed on each -other--drinking draughts of love in each other’s looks,--and often -pressing each other’s hands - -For Perdita really loved the young man,--loved him with a deep and -ardent affection, of which however sensuality formed no inconsiderable -portion. Nevertheless, she _did_ love him after the fashion of her own -heart;--and thus to some extent the snarer had become ensnared! - -It was in a humour of melting and voluptuous languor, that, suddenly -breaking the silence noticed above, Perdita said in her soft, dulcet -tones, “Charles, how delicious is it to travel in this manner! Do you -know that I feel as if I should like you to repeat to me a piece of -poetry--or tell me some interesting tale--for it is so sweet to hear -the sound of your voice. But if you thus gratify my caprice--this whim -of the moment--let the theme of your recitation be love!” - -“I will endeavour to please you, my charmer,” returned the young -man;--“and at this moment I bethink me of a Love Story that I wrote -myself some few years ago--one day, when the mania for scribbling -suddenly seized upon me.” - -“Oh! that will be truly delightful!” exclaimed Perdita. “A story of -your own composition! Begin, Charles--dear Charles: I am dying to hear -this specimen of your abilities.” - -“I am afraid it will prove but a poor one,” returned Hatfield. “At the -same time, such as it is, I will repeat it.” - -Mrs. Fitzhardinge, having overheard this dialogue, intimated the -pleasure she should experience in listening to the tale;--and as the -chaise was now rolling along a road rendered, as it were, soft by the -accumulation of the dust of summer, Charles was not compelled to pitch -his voice to a key unpleasantly high, in relating the ensuing narrative. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLII. - -THE DRESS-MAKER: A LOVE STORY. - - -“It was between nine and ten o’clock on a dark and rainy night, in the -month of November, 1834, that a young female, plainly but decently -attired, was wending her way along Oxford Street. She had a large -parcel beneath her cloak;--and this parcel she protected against the -rain with the most jealous care,--thinking more, in fact, of the object -of her solicitude than of picking her path with sufficient nicety to -enable her to avoid the puddles of water that were ankle-deep in some -parts of the pavement--but more especially at the crossings. For, in -sooth, it was a bitter--bitter night:--the windows of heaven appeared -to be indeed opened, and the rain fell in torrents. The streets seemed -to be positively covered in with an arcade of umbrellas, on which the -quick drops rattled down with the violence of hail. The young female -whom I have mentioned, had an umbrella;--but she found it rather a -difficult task to hold it comfortably with one hand, while her left arm -encircled as it were the precious parcel beneath her cloak. For the -passengers in the streets of London are never over remarkable for their -civility to each other--still less so on such a night as the one I am -describing. The consequence was that there was an incessant struggle -amongst the strong to push their umbrellas safely through the mass, and -amongst the weak to prevent their own umbrellas from being dragged out -of their hands;--but it naturally happened that the latter fared the -worst. - -“The young female was meek, timid, and unobtrusive. She only sought to -be permitted to pursue her way in peace, without being molested;--for, -heaven knows! she had not the least desire on her part to inconvenience -a soul. But first some rude, hulking fellow would thrust her against -the houses--almost through the shop windows; then, if she moved over -to the kerb-stone of the pavement, she found herself speedily pushed -into the mud. To pursue a middle course was impossible; because the two -streams of persons carrying umbrellas were the monopolists there;--and -so the young female began to lament the necessity which had sent her -forth into the streets on such a night as this. At length she reached -the iron gates leading into Hanover Square; and she rejoiced--for she -thought within herself that she had now got clear of the crowd, and -need entertain no farther apprehension of having the precious parcel -knocked out of her hands. But just as she entered the Square, a rude, -coarse fellow rushed against her as he was running hastily round the -corner; and such was the violence of the concussion, that the parcel -was knocked from beneath her arm. The ruffian who had caused the -accident, burst into a ferocious laugh, as if he had just performed a -most humorous or clever feat, and darted away. But the young female -was disconsolate at what had occurred; and tears started into her -eyes. Though bruised and hurt by the man’s violence, she thought not -of herself--she felt no pain:--it was on account of the parcel that -she was so deeply grieved. Hastily picking it up, she hurried to the -nearest lamp; and the moment she examined the packet beneath the -gas-light, she found her worst apprehensions confirmed. For the parcel -contained a costly silk dress, well wrapped up in brown paper;--but the -side on which it had fallen was dripping wet and covered with mud! - -“‘O heavens! no food _again_ to-night!’ exclaimed the young female -aloud--for in her despair she paused not to notice whether she were -noticed or overheard. And she _was_ both noticed and overheard,--and by -a tall, handsome individual, of gentlemanly appearance, and muffled in -a capacious cloak. He had issued from the nearest house at the moment -the accident occurred; and, perceiving the brutality of the encounter, -though too late to prevent it or to chastise the perpetrator, he stood -still to observe the young female, whose countenance, as the rays of -the lamp fell upon it, struck him as being remarkably beautiful. In -that rapid survey, partial as it was by the flickering light, which -was moreover dimmed by the mist of the falling rain, the stranger -fancied that he perceived--independently of the despair which that -countenance now wore--a certain settled melancholy expression, that -at once rivetted his interest and excited his sympathies. But when -those words--so terrible in their meaning,--‘O heavens! no food -_again_ to-night!’ fell upon his ears, he accosted the young female, -and said, in a tone of respectful though somewhat condescending pity, -‘My poor girl, it appears that a sad accident has befallen you.’--The -young woman, or rather girl--for she was not more than eighteen years -of age--looked up into the face of the individual who thus addressed -her; and, perceiving that it was no insolent coxcomb who spoke, she -replied in a tone of deep melancholy, ‘Yes, sir: it is to _me_ a -great misfortune!’--The stranger read, or fancied he read, an entire -history in those few and plaintively uttered words,--how, perhaps, a -young dress-maker had toiled to finish a particular piece of work in -the hope of receiving instantaneous payment on taking it home,--how -the article had been thrown down, soiled, and rendered at least -unfit to be delivered that night to its owner, even if it were not -spoilt altogether,--and how the poor girl had lost her only chance of -obtaining the wherewith to procure a meal. Upon more closely, though -still with great delicacy, questioning the young female, the stranger -found all his surmises to be correct; but she could not tell whether -the silk dress were injured beyond redemption or not. ‘In any case,’ -she added, still weeping bitterly, ‘I shall tell the lady the truth -when I take home the dress to-morrow.’--These words, uttered with -the most unquestionable sincerity, made a deep impression upon the -gentleman who was addressing her; for they denoted an unsophisticated -uprightness of character which augmented the interest he already -felt in the poor young creature.--‘And who is the lady you speak -of?’ he enquired.--‘The Dowager Marchioness of Wilmington,’ was the -reply.--‘Ah!’ ejaculated the stranger: then, after a moment’s pause, he -said, ‘Pardon me, young woman, for having asked you so many questions: -but it has not been through motives of idle curiosity. Here is a small -sum that will procure you immediate necessaries;’--and thrusting a coin -into her hand, he hurried away. The deed took the poor girl completely -by surprise;--for although it has occupied me some time to relate all -that passed between her and the generous stranger, yet in reality -their dialogue was of scarcely more than two minutes’ duration; and -the dress-maker had not yet recovered from the grief into which the -accident to her parcel had plunged her. When, therefore, the light -of the lamp flashed upon a bright yellow coin, she could scarcely -believe her eyes:--she fancied that her benefactor had made a mistake, -and intended to give her a shilling,--and then, in spite of the cold -night, the warm blood rushed to her cheeks, at the idea of any one -treating her as a mendicant--for she had her little feelings of pride, -poor though she were! But her next thought was that the stranger might -really have intended to present her with a sovereign; and--so strange -a sentiment is human pride, even in the most virtuous bosoms--her -soul revolted not from receiving that amount. And now, lest this -circumstance should induce you to form an evil opinion of my heroine, -I must inform you that it was no selfish nor avaricious feeling that -made her draw a distinction between the gift of a shilling and that of -a sovereign:--but she had been tenderly and genteelly brought up--and -the comparison which her mind drew, was simply as between the alms that -one would toss to a mendicant, and the pecuniary aid which a delicate -benevolence would administer to a person in temporary embarrassment. - -“Of all these things she thought as she retraced her way along Oxford -Street,--holding her umbrella with her right hand, and with her left -arm encircling the parcel more carefully than before. She came to -the conclusion that the sovereign was not given by mistake; and she -resolved to avail herself of the bounty which Providence itself had -appeared to bestow upon her in the hour of her bitterest need. She -thought of the little brother who was anxiously expecting her return, -and who had fared so scantily for the last few days,--that little -brother of only eight years old, whom the sudden, premature, and almost -simultaneous death of their parents, about two years previously, had -left so completely dependant upon her! As she drew near the street in -which she lived, she stopped at the baker’s where she was accustomed -to deal, and purchased some nice buns;--and then she hurried on until -she reached the house wherein she rented a small back room on the third -floor. On entering the little chamber, which, though poorly furnished, -was very clean and neat, a beautiful boy, with light brown curly hair -and fine blue eyes, but with cheeks somewhat pale, sprang towards her, -exclaiming ‘Oh! dear sister Julia, I am so glad you have come back: for -I cannot bear to be left alone so long!’--‘I have brought you something -nice, Harry,’ said the kind girl, smiling sweetly upon him; and, she -placed the bag containing the buns in his hand. Joy sparkled in his -eyes;--but in another moment he observed that his sister had brought -back the parcel, which she had opened, and was carefully examining the -silk-dress to ascertain the amount of injury done to it. Throwing the -cakes upon the table, the boy hastened to question her; but poor Julia -could not answer him--scalding tears were trickling down her cheeks--a -suffocating grief filled her bosom,--for she found, to her dismay, that -the dress was completely spoilt! - -“She sate down, and gave full vent to her anguish;--and then little -Harry threw his arms round her neck, and endeavoured to console her. -The flood of tears which she shed, and the affectionate conduct of -her little brother at length considerably soothed her;--and the poor -girl made up her mind to meet her misfortune with resignation. ‘You -are dripping wet, dear Julia,’ said Harry: ‘and there is not a morsel -of coal left,’ he added, looking at the miserable remnant of a fire -which was fast extinguishing in the grate.--‘Poor boy! you have been -cold,’ exclaimed the dress-maker, not thinking of herself.--‘No, dear -Julia,’ he answered; ‘for I have been walking up and down the room, to -keep myself awake till you came back. I was only afraid that the candle -would not last.’--‘Nor will it many minutes longer, Harry!’ cried -Julia, starting from her seat. ‘But do not be afraid, my dear little -fellow; for I have plenty of money to buy all we want for the moment. A -good kind gentleman took compassion upon me, and--and----’; she did not -choose to say, ‘_and gave me some money_;’--for, somehow or another, -her pure soul revolted from the idea that she had been the object of -eleemosynary benevolence on the part of a stranger:--so, cutting the -matter short, she kissed her little brother tenderly, bade him eat his -cakes, and, promising to return in a few minutes, hurried away. She -ordered up coals and wood from the nearest shed,--thence she repaired -to the grocer’s, where she purchased a few articles,--and lastly, she -sped to the baker’s, to buy bread. But the moment she entered this -shop, the master rushed from behind the counter, seized her rudely, -called her by many opprobrious names, and, raising an alarm, attracted -the attention of a policeman who was passing by. The constable entered -the shop, and enquired the cause of the disturbance; but poor Julia -had fainted;--and she, therefore, heard not the charge that was made -against her. When she came to her senses, she gazed wildly around, -thinking that she had just awoke from a horrid dream;--but, alas! -it was all too true! She was seated in a chair in the middle of the -shop--a policeman standing near her--and a gaping, curious crowd -collected at the door. ‘Now, young woman,’ said the officer, ‘come -along with me!’--Julia cast upon him a look so full of horror and -amazement, that the man’s heart was for an instant touched;--but, being -accustomed to endless varieties of imposture on the part of offenders, -he speedily recovered the cold indifference so characteristic of his -class, and said sternly, if not brutally, ‘None of this nonsense: you -must tramp off to the station-house!’--‘But what have I done? what -offence have I committed?’ asked Julia, in a tone of the most pathetic -entreaty. ‘Oh! there must be some dreadful mistake in all this!’--‘No -mistake at all,’ said the officer; ‘and you’ll know all about it in -the morning, when you go before the magistrate!’--‘The magistrate!’ -repeated the girl, with the emphasis of despair. ‘But my poor little -brother, what will become of him?’--‘That’s no business of mine,’ -returned the constable: ’come along!’--and he dragged the half-fainting -Julia from the shop. - -“Away to the nearest station-house was the unhappy young woman rather -borne than conducted;--and so stunned--so stupefied was she by this -sudden, unaccountable, and overwhelming misfortune, that her tongue -refused to give utterance to the questions which her suspense prompted -her lips to frame. The station was close by; and thus was it that -before she had leisure to recover from her bewilderment and terror, -she found herself thrust into a dark cell--all dripping wet from head -to foot as she was. When full consciousness returned, and she was -enabled to look her misfortune in the face, she found that all the -articles she had purchased at the grocer’s and all the remainder of her -money were gone. Yet she could not possibly conceive on what charge -she had been thus rudely treated;--and her conscience inspired her -with the hope that her complete innocence must become apparent in the -morning. But the thought of her little brother excited the most painful -sensations in her bosom:--her heart was rent with pangs that seemed to -threaten her very existence! The poor little fellow!--she fancied she -saw him sitting in the cold, lonely chamber, crying bitterly at his -sister’s prolonged absence:--and then a thousand fears haunted her--all -distracting in the extreme. Might he not take it into his head to go -out to look after her?--he, who was so ignorant of London!--and then -might he not be lost in the mazes of the mighty metropolis, and on a -night when it would be almost death to him to wander about the flooded -streets? Oh! all these fears--these thoughts were terrible;--for -she dearly loved her little brother--loved him, perhaps, the more -affectionately, the more tenderly, because their orphan condition -rendered him so completely dependant upon her,--and because he was so -much attached to her, and his ways were so winning--his disposition so -cheerful! - -“In the midst of these harrowing meditations a policeman opened the -trap in the door of the cell, and called her by name--‘_Julia Murray!_’ -She answered in a faint and feeble tone; and the officer was about -to close the trap, satisfied that his prisoner was not ill nor had -attempted suicide,--when the young woman suddenly exclaimed, ‘Stop -one moment!’--‘Well, what is it?’ demanded the constable.--In a few -hurried words Julia explained to him how she had a little brother -expecting her return, how he would be overwhelmed with grief at her -unaccountable absence, and how grateful she should feel if any one -could be sent to inform the child that his sister would be certain -to return in the morning. The constable, who was a kind-hearted -man, promised that her request should be complied with; and he was -about to depart when, a thought striking him, he said, ‘But are you -so sure, young woman, of getting off so easy as you imagine. The -charge is a serious one, mind!’--‘The charge!’ she repeated: ‘I do -not even yet know what it is!’--‘Oh! that’s all gammon,’ cried the -constable, closing the trap abruptly; and now, his opinion of the -prisoner being that she was a hardened impostor, and had some sinister -motive in view in sending a message to her lodgings, determined to -trouble himself no more concerning the matter. It was, however, some -consolation to the poor girl to believe that her commission would be -duly executed;--for, though she had heard the officer’s unfeeling, -cutting observation relative to her ignorance of the accusation against -her, she could not for an instant suppose that he would neglect to -fulfil his promise regarding her little brother. But wearily--wearily -passed away that night--not once did the poor dress-maker close -her eyes--and she counted every hour that was proclaimed from the -neighbouring church-clock--often saying to herself that never, never -had time travelled with such leaden pace before! She had not tasted -food for many hours--and yet she was not hungry; but she experienced a -terrible faintness at the chest, and an oppressiveness on the brain, -that at intervals made her mind wander. Her cloak was dripping wet -when she had been locked up, and her shoes, stockings, and the lower -part of her dress were saturated;--but she had thrown her cloak aside, -and her garments had dried upon her;--and now she felt not positively -cold--only a numbness in her limbs, which gave her however no pain. - -“At length the dull, misty, wintry morning dawned upon the -metropolis--though all was still dark in her gloomy cell. Presently -an officer entered, and gave her a cup of hot coffee and a piece of -bread. She asked him if the message had been sent to her brother;--but -he was not the same constable who had made the round of the cells at -midnight, and therefore knew nothing about the matter. Moreover, he -was a stern, sulky man; and she dared not speak farther to him--much -as she longed to ascertain the real nature of the charge against her. -She drank the coffee, which seemed to do her good;--but she could -not force a single mouthful of the bread down her throat--though the -cravings of hunger now began to oppress her cruelly. But, to use a -common phrase, her heart heaved against food. A couple of hours more -passed away, and then the same policeman who had arrested her on the -preceding evening came to conduct her to the police-office. While -they were proceeding thither, Julia enquired the nature of the charge -against her; and she now learnt for the first time that the coin which -she had changed at the bakers, and which she had believed to be a -sovereign, was only a gilt counter, of the kind used at card tables -in genteel society. She was cruelly shocked at this information, and -frankly and candidly explained to the officer the manner in which she -had become possessed of it; but he only shook his head, and seemed -to put but little faith in her story. Julia was, however, too much -absorbed in the vexation and ignominy she had thus been subjected to, -and was still enduring, to notice the man’s incredulity;--but she clung -to the hope that her tale would be believed by the magistrate before -whom she was about to appear. It happened that the usual charges of -drunkenness were just disposed of, at the moment when the young female -entered the court; and she was accordingly at once placed at the -bar--the baker being already in attendance to prefer his charge against -her. This he did in a plain and straight-forward manner,--showing no -ill-feeling against the prisoner--but, on the contrary, alleging that -he had always believed her to be a highly respectable, industrious, and -praise-worthy young woman until the present transaction took place. He -added that he had given her into custody in a moment of irritation, -believing himself to have been duped; and that he should be truly -delighted if she could make her innocence apparent. Julia’s courage -was somewhat restored by the forbearing conduct of the baker--for her -own good sense told her that the case was really one involving much -unpleasant suspicion;--and she now told her tale with an artlessness -and sincerity that produced no inconsiderable effect upon the bench. -Nevertheless, as the magistrate observed, it certainly appeared strange -that a gentleman should have given her a gilt counter in mistake for a -sovereign,--strange also that a mere stranger should have intended to -bestow upon her a sovereign at all. The magistrate proceeded to state -that the prisoner must be remanded, in order that the gentleman of whom -she spoke--if her story were true--might come forward, upon seeing -the report of the case in the newspapers, and tender his evidence. -Julia burst out into an agony of weeping, when she heard that she -must go to prison for a week; and the baker requested the magistrate -to re-consider his decision. This appeal was, however, made in vain; -but it was intimated that bail would be received for the prisoner’s -re-appearance. The baker gave a whispered assurance to the unhappy -girl that he would get two of his friends to become security for her; -and this promise consoled her. When she was removed from the office, -on her way to a cell in the rear of the establishment, the baker told -her that his wife had taken care of her brother, who had passed the -night at their house: and he expressed his deep regret that he should -have proceeded against her, as he had learnt from her landlady that she -was a young woman of most exemplary character. To be brief, the baker -performed his promise of procuring bail for the prisoner; and at about -two o’clock in the afternoon she was enabled to return home. - -“Little Harry was speedily brought back to her by the baker’s wife, -who, it appeared, had bitterly reproached her husband on the preceding -evening for his conduct towards Miss Murray, and, with considerate -kindness, had at once sent for her brother, whom the good woman -consoled with some plausible tale accounting for his sister’s absence. -Julia was not however happy, even though restored to liberty; for the -charge still hung over her--and so much depended on the chance of the -appearance of her unknown benefactor, who, she still firmly believed, -had accidentally and most unintentionally given her the gilt counter -which had led to so much wretchedness and serious embarrassment. -Her first care was now, however, to proceed to the house of the old -Marchioness of Wilmington, with the silk-dress, which was completely -spoiled; and Julia’s heart was heavy as she hurried along Oxford -Street. The weather was dull and gloomy; but the rain had ceased, -and the two streams of people flowed on, in different directions, -without the hurry, bustle, and struggling that had prevailed on the -preceding evening. Julia’s bosom palpitated nervously when she reached -the spot where the accident had occurred--that accident to which -her present sorrows might be traced. On reaching the house of that -marchioness in Hanover Square, the poor girl was conducted into the -presence of the dowager--a proud, stately dame whose age exceeded -fifty, but who endeavoured by means of rouge, false hair, false teeth, -and the appliances of the toilette, to appear at least twenty years -younger. Her ladyship was seated in a small, but elegantly furnished -parlour, and was occupied in reading--no, in skimming--the last new -novel, which, according to the usual fashion, had been carefully spun -out into three volumes, though all the incidents it contained might -with advantage have been condensed into one. At a beautiful little -work-table, sate a lovely creature of two-and-twenty, with hair as -dark as jet, fine large black eyes, and a tall symmetrical, but rather -robust figure. On this fair young lady’s countenance there was a slight -shade of melancholy; and her cheeks were somewhat pale--but apparently -through a secret care, and not ill-health. This was Lady Caroline -Jerningham, the only daughter of the marchioness, and consequently -sister to the Marquis of Wilmington, her ladyship’s only son. - -“On entering the presence of these ladies, Julia, who had previously -arranged in her own imagination the precise terms in which she proposed -to tell her tale,--with a strict adherence to truth,--forgot all her -studied task, and became overwhelmed with confusion. The marchioness -looked so stately--so prim--so queen-like in her deportment, not to -say positively austere, that the poor girl was seized with vague -apprehensions and unknown terrors, as if she had committed a great -and grievous fault. Lady Caroline, however, cast upon her a look -of such kind encouragement, and also of such significance, that it -almost struck Julia at the moment that the young patrician lady had a -fore-knowledge of the disaster which had occurred to the dress. Yet how -was that possible?--and as the absurdity of such an idea forced itself -upon the girl’s mind the instant after the idea itself was entertained, -her confusion and embarrassment were increased, and she burst into -tears. The dowager uttered an ejaculation of surprise; and Julia, -hastily wiping her eyes, cast an appealing glance on Lady Caroline, -who, to her relief and amazement, she beheld gazing upon her with an -expression of reassurance and deep--almost tender interest. Encouraged -by the evident graciousness of the young lady, Julia proceeded to -open the parcel; and, while so doing, she began an explanation of -the accident which had occurred to the dress. The countenance of the -marchioness, to whom she glanced timidly, lowered and contracted;--but -Lady Caroline hastened to observe, in a kind and condescending manner, -‘Whatever has happened to the dress, Miss Murray, I am confident my -mother will attribute to a misfortune, and to no blameable neglect -on your part.’--‘Permit me to answer for myself, Lady Caroline,’ -said the dowager, in a tone of haughty remonstrance to her daughter, -and with an austere look at the trembling Julia. ‘Young woman,’ she -continued, now addressing herself direct to the poor girl, ‘you were -recommended to me by Lady Lumley, as an efficient, honest, careful, -and deserving person,--one, who, having been brought up tenderly and -by parents moving in a genteel sphere until the time of their decease, -was suddenly compelled to have recourse to the needle to earn a -subsistence. Under such circumstances, and with this recommendation, -I sent for you--I agreed to give you a trial--and, as I perceive, you -have spoilt for me a dress that will cost me ten guineas to replace -it.’--‘I admit, my lady,’ said Julia, ‘that you have great cause to be -dissatisfied. But heaven is my witness that it was an accident; and if -your ladyship will permit me, I will toil day and night until I shall -have obtained the wherewith to make good the loss.’--‘No, young woman,’ -observed the marchioness, somewhat mollified by the artlessness and -respectful demeanour of Julia Murray; ‘I cannot, being rich, oppress -you, who are poor. All that I can do in the case is to decline giving -you any farther employment. You may retire:’ and, having thus spoken -with a sententious pomposity that would have become a statesman, the -noble lady waved her hand authoritatively. - -“Julia’s eyes filled with tears, which nearly blinded her--so that she -observed not how peculiar was the interest with which Lady Caroline -Jerningham was surveying her:--but, having vainly endeavoured to -stammer forth a few words imploring a continuance of the patronage of -the marchioness, she hurried from the room. On the landing outside she -paused for a few moments to wipe away the traces of tears from her -countenance and somewhat compose herself; for she shrank from the idea -of attracting unpleasant notice on the part of the lacqueys lounging in -the hall through which she must pass to reach the street-door. Suddenly -she felt a gentle touch upon the shoulder; for she had seated herself -in a chair on the landing, being overcome with grief and physical -exhaustion;--and starting up, she beheld Lady Caroline standing by her -side. ‘Hush!’ said the fair patrician, placing her finger upon her -lip, and glancing towards the parlour-door, as much as to imply that -she had stolen away from her mother’s presence and would not have her -motive suspected: ‘here, my poor girl, take this--and, when you require -a friend, fear not to apply to me--but by letter, remember, in the -first instance!’--Thus speaking, Lady Caroline thrust five sovereigns -into Julia’s hand, and instantly returned to the parlour, not waiting a -moment to receive the thanks of the astonished and delighted girl. - -“Julia Murray now hurried home, and found little Harry anxiously -expecting her return;--for, although he was too young to comprehend the -nature of the alarms which she had experienced, when sallying forth, on -account of the spoilt dress, yet he was fearful lest she might remain -away from him for several hours again. He had no cares--that poor -little fellow--when his sister was with him; and he now asked her, in -so sweet yet earnest a manner, not to leave him any more during a whole -night, that she felt as if she would go through fire and water for that -darling boy. But she had no work in hand; and though she possessed five -sovereigns,--real sovereigns, and no gilt counters this time,--yet she -could not bear the idea of being idle. She however promised to remain -at home all that day; and she prepared a nice little dinner, which -made Harry so happy that she wished--Oh! how sincerely she wished--she -could always provide for him in the same manner. She endeavoured to -appear as cheerful as she could;--but there was a weight upon her -spirits--for the accusation still hung over her head, and she was in -suspense whether the unknown would see her case in the papers, and -appear to justify her. Besides, would not the publicity given to the -affair injure her with those kind patronesses who had hitherto taken -such an interest in the orphan girl? and, should the stranger-gentleman -not be forthcoming, would not a stigma be affixed upon her character, -even though the magistrate (as the baker assured her must be the -alternative) should dismiss the case? Of all these things she -thought;--and when Harry noticed her not, a pearly tear would trickle -down her pale but beauteous face. For Julia _was_ very beautiful. Her -hair was of a rich dark brown--her eyes of melting blue--her teeth of -pearly whiteness--and her shape elegant, graceful, and sylph-like. - -“On the ensuing morning, after breakfast, Julia had just put on her -bonnet and shawl to go out for the purpose of calling upon her various -patronesses and enquiring whether they needed her services, when the -landlady of the house in which she lodged, entered the room and said, -‘Miss Murray, a gentleman wishes to speak to you: he will not walk -up to your apartment, as he does not know whether you may choose to -receive him here; and he is accordingly waiting in my parlour.’--A -ray of hope flashed to the mind of the young woman: what if it were -the unknown who had given her the gilt counter? The suspicion was -strengthened by the delicacy of his behaviour in not ascending to her -chamber; for, during the brief discourse which she had with him on -the night so fatal to her, he had manifested a disposition quite in -accordance with the propriety of conduct and considerate proceeding -adopted by the individual who now waited to see her. Telling Harry that -she should not be long, Julia hurried down stairs; and in a few moments -she found herself in the presence of the individual who was uppermost -in her thoughts. Yes:--it was indeed he--the unknown,--the same tall, -handsome man,--and enveloped, too, in a cloak richly lined with sables. -He was about eight-and-twenty years of age; and there was something -noble and commanding, though gracious and encouraging, in his air and -demeanour. The moment Julia made her appearance, he rose from the chair -in which he had been seated, and taking her hand, said in a tone of -the most earnest sincerity, ‘Miss Murray, I know not in what terms to -express the shame and grief which I experience at the misfortune that -has overtaken you. It was not until I saw this mornings newspaper, -that I even dreamt of the mistake--the dreadful mistake I had made: and -the instant the case met my eyes, I hurried hither. The explanation -which I have to give, you can of course anticipate:--I had purchased -some gilt counters only half-an-hour before I met you in Hanover -Square, and I put them loose into the same pocket which contained my -money.’--‘I never for an instant imagined, sir,’ said Julia, ‘that -you had purposely trifled with my feelings.’--‘Generous young woman, -to put such a construction upon a matter which has caused you so much -suffering!’ exclaimed the unknown. ‘But it is now my duty to accompany -you at once to the police-court, and place your character in the same -honourable light in which it originally stood.’--Julia was overjoyed -at this announcement; and the gentleman, giving her his arm, escorted -her to the police-court, calling however on the baker in their way to -desire him to attend immediately before the magistrate. During the -walk, the stranger asked the young woman a great many questions--not -of an impertinent nature, nor denoting an idle curiosity,--but rather -evincing an interest in the orphan girl. It however struck Julia as -somewhat singular that he did not put a single query to her relative to -the spoilt dress: it seemed as if he had quite forgotten that incident! - -“On their arrival at the police-office, the gentleman immediately -handed his card to the magistrate, to whom he whispered a few words at -the same time; and his worship became all civility and politeness. The -case was called on without a moment’s delay: the gentleman concisely -but effectually explained the affair of the gilt counter; and the -magistrate, on declaring Julia to be discharged, assured her that she -would leave the court without the slightest stain on her character. -The stranger placed ten pounds in the magistrate’s hands for the -use of the poor-box, and then departed in company with Julia, whom -he escorted back to the house in which she dwelt. On reaching the -door, he paused, and taking her hand, said, ‘Miss Murray, I shall not -insult you by offering a pecuniary recompense for the mortification, -annoyance, and distress you have undergone through that gilt counter. -But I shall endeavour to serve you in another way. Farewell for -the present: you will shortly see me again; for, be assured,’ he -added, gazing earnestly upon her for a moment, ‘I shall never forget -you.’--Thus speaking, he pressed her hand and hurried away;--and it -was not until he had disappeared from her view that she remembered she -was still in profound ignorance of who or what he was. It, however, -struck her that the case would be again reported in the newspapers; -and she therefore hoped that the morrow would clear up the mystery. -But it was with some degree of anxiety and painful suspense that she -thus awaited the publication of the journals of the ensuing day;--and -she could not account to herself for the feelings that thus agitated -her. Although her character had been completely cleared from the -imputation thrown upon it, and her innocence was made unquestionably -apparent,--although she had ample funds, through the generosity of Lady -Caroline Jerningham, to provide for all present wants,--and although -a secret voice seemed to whisper in her soul that she possessed a -good friend in the stranger-gentleman,--yet, somehow or another, poor -Julia was not entirely contented. Was it that the handsome countenance -of her unknown benefactor had made any impression on her heart?--was -it that his kind and sympathising conduct had touched a tender chord -in her pure and innocent bosom? It is impossible to answer these -questions at present: but it is very certain that Julia experienced a -disappointment almost amounting to a positive shock, when she found -that the morning papers seemed to be in as much ignorance as herself -relative to her unknown benefactor. The report merely alluded to him -as ‘_a gentleman whose name did not transpire_;’--and this mystery in -which her friend evidently wrapped himself, became a source of secret -trouble to the young dress-maker. Wherefore had he not revealed his -name to her? Disreputable that name could not be; else how could it -have produced so magical an effect upon the magistrate? Was it, then, -a great--a famous--or a noble name? Julia sighed--and dared not hazard -any conjectures: but in her heart there suddenly appeared to arise a -hope--a secret wish, that the stranger was _not_ so very highly exalted -above her own social sphere! - -“Again was Julia preparing to sally forth and visit the various ladies -for whom she was accustomed to work, when her landlady brought her up a -note. It was from Lady Caroline Jerningham, requesting Miss Murray to -call upon her in the evening at a stated hour, as her ladyship had a -quantity of work to place in her hands. The young maiden was overjoyed -at the receipt of this missive, which not only promised her employment, -but likewise seemed to be an assurance of the tender interest which -the charming Lady Caroline had taken in her. She did not therefore -stir out until the evening;--and little Harry was delighted that his -sister remained at home with him. But when the appointed hour drew -near, she tranquillised her brother with a promise of a speedy return; -and away she sped, with a heart full of hope, towards Hanover Square. -On reaching the splendid mansion occupied by the Dowager-Marchioness, -Julia was received by Lady Caroline’s own maid, and was forthwith -conducted to the chamber of her fair patroness, who treated her in -the most kind and condescending manner. ‘I regret, Miss Murray,’ she -said, ‘that I am forced to admit you thus stealthily into the house; -but my mother is of a peculiar temper, although in reality possessed -of a good heart.’--‘I understand your ladyship,’ returned Julia: ‘the -Marchioness cannot forgive me for what she considers neglect. I am -however deeply grateful to your ladyship for thinking otherwise, and -for giving me such substantial proofs that you entertain so favourable -an opinion.’--‘My dear Miss Murray,’ observed Lady Caroline, ‘I will -do any thing I can to serve you; for I can well imagine how grateful -must be the sympathy of a friend to one who is acquainted with -sorrow!’--These words were uttered with almost a mournful emphasis, as -if the fair speaker craved that sympathy and friendship for herself -which she proffered to another;--and Julia could not help regarding her -with mingled surprise, gratitude, and tender interest. They were alone -together--that elegant patrician lady and that beautiful milliner,--the -maid having retired; and it appeared as if a species of sisterly -feeling suddenly sprang up between them, inspiring them with mutual -confidence, and for the time annihilating the barrier that social -distinctions had raised up between them in the eyes of the world. -Thus was it that when Lady Caroline saw Julia’s looks fixed upon her -in so earnest and plaintive a manner, she felt herself irresistibly -urged to respond to that tacit yet eloquent proffer of sympathy and -affection. ‘Ah! my dear Miss Murray,’ she said, ‘you must not imagine -that unhappiness exists only with those who have to toil for their -daily bread. Perhaps, indeed, their lot is preferable to that of the -rich who have causes of grief;--for _you_ have a constant occupation -which allows little leisure for disagreeable reflection; whereas _I_ -have so much time----’.--Lady Caroline checked herself, turned away, -and hastily passed a handkerchief across her face. She had perhaps -said more than she intended: for, from speaking of the richer and -poorer classes in general terms, she had been carried into personal -illustration of the truth of her remarks by pointedly placing herself -and Julia in juxta-position. Miss Murray, though totally devoid of -artfulness, was yet endowed with an intellect keen enough to perceive -this fact: and she now learnt, then--as indeed she had previously -suspected--that Lady Caroline was unhappy. But it was not for her -to invite a revelation of the fair patrician’s cause of sorrow: she -therefore remained silent. - -[Illustration] - -“‘Julia,’ said her ladyship, suddenly turning towards her again, and -taking her hand as she thus spoke,--‘Julia,’ she repeated, in an -earnest, appealing tone, ‘I will be a friend to you; but it may happen -that I also shall require the aid and sympathy of a friend----’; and, -once more checking herself, she sighed profoundly.--‘I would serve -you night and day, dear lady!’ exclaimed the young milliner, pressing -to her lips the hand which still grasped her own.--‘I have not read -your disposition inaccurately, dearest girl,’ responded Lady Caroline: -then, assuming a more cheerful tone, she said, ‘Be it understood, we -are friends! And now you must leave me, as my mother will be enquiring -after me.’--Julia received a parcel containing a variety of costly -stuffs, which she was to make up into dresses for her fair patroness, -and which would furnish her with work for at least a month; and, -as she was leaving the room, Lady Caroline said, ‘My own maid will -call upon you every Saturday evening and bring away whatever you may -have finished, until the whole be complete.’--They then separated, -Lady Caroline pressing Julia’s hand warmly at parting; and the young -dressmaker hurried homeward, her heart beating with joy at the kindness -which she had experienced and the friendship she had formed. ‘After -all,’ she murmured to herself, as she ascended the stair-case to her -chamber, where little Harry was sitting up to await her return.--‘after -all, the adventure of the spoilt dress has proved a service, rather -than an injury, to me: and perhaps,’ she added,--but it was her heart, -and not her lips, that now spoke,--‘the affair of the gilt counter may -likewise bring me good luck!’ - -“Julia now addressed herself to the work of which she had such -profusion; and while she sate plying her needle, with little Harry -playing about the room, she often thought of the handsome unknown. -Every day, after the frugal dinner, she took her brother out to walk -for an hour, that a little exercise and fresh air might benefit them -both; and, of an evening, when she laid aside her work, she gave him -instruction in many useful branches of education. During the day, -too, he learnt his lessons; and never did she suffer him to go out -alone into the streets--no, not even on the slightest errand. In fact, -this excellent young woman took as much care of her little orphan -brother as if she had been his parent, instead of his sister; and it -was a charming as well as touching sight to behold them repairing to -the parish church on a Sabbath-morning,--each attired with so much -neatness, and yet in a plain and unobtrusive manner. Well, three -weeks had passed since the interview between Julia and Lady Caroline; -and on each Saturday evening her ladyship’s maid called to receive -and pay for the work that was finished. The domestic was sure to -have some pretty present from her mistress for Julia, and a handsome -toy--such as a transparent slate, or puzzle, or a miniature carpenter’s -tool-box--for Harry; and the grateful milliner sent back her kindest -but most respectful regards to her good patroness. But during those -three weeks she had neither seen nor heard any thing of the handsome -stranger;--and yet, had he not promised that he would shortly call -again? Wherefore should he call? Julia never paused to ask herself that -question;--but she did sometimes admit, within the secret recesses of -her own heart, that she thought it somewhat unkind he did not fulfil -his promise, after the distress she had endured in consequence of the -mistake he had made respecting the gilt counter. One day the landlady -tapped at Julia’s door; and, on being desired to enter, the good woman -informed her that ‘_the gentleman in the cloak_,’ was waiting in the -parlour below. A blush instantly spread itself over Julia’s cheeks; -whereupon the landlady said in a low but impressive tone, ‘you need -not be ashamed of an honest attachment, Miss; and I know you are too -good a girl to form any other. In fact, I told the gentleman what an -excellent creature you were, and how well you behaved to your little -brother.’--‘You told him all _that_?’ exclaimed Julia, looking up in -a surprise mingled with secret pleasure, while the blush upon her -beauteous countenance deepened.--‘Certainly I did, Miss,’ replied the -landlady: ‘but not to-day. It was when he called on account of that -unpleasant little affair, you know; and before he sent me up to fetch -you down, he asked no end of questions about you; and he seemed so -pleased when I told him that you were such a good, industrious young -person, and so kind to your orphan brother; and how you kept yourself -so quiet and respectable, having no acquaintances scarcely, and -certainly no visitors except your lady-customers or their maids.’--‘But -the gentleman did not ask all those questions?’ said Julia, in -a hesitating manner and with a tremulous voice, while her heart -palpitated with emotions of unknown pleasure.--‘Indeed he did, Miss,’ -returned the landlady. ‘But, dear me! now I think of it, he charged me -not to tell you that he had asked any thing at all concerning you: and -by the same token, he gave me a sovereign to hold my tongue in this -respect; and therefore, Miss, you must not even _look_ as if you knew -a syllable of what occurred on that occasion. I am sure he is some -great person in disguise; and I am also certain that he has fallen in -love with you.’--Julia’s countenance now became scarlet; and she was -about to make a remonstrative reply, when little Harry, who began to -grow impatient of so much mysterious whispering between his sister and -the landlady, approached them, saying, ‘Is any thing the matter, dear -Julia?’--‘Nothing, my darling boy,’ was the cheerful reply: ‘I shall -return in a few minutes;’--and Julia hastened down stairs, the landlady -remaining with Harry. - -“Though the young maiden endeavoured to compose herself as much as -possible, yet all that the landlady had told her rushed to her mind -with renewed force and stronger significancy just as she crossed the -threshold of the parlour and appeared in the presence of _the gentleman -in the cloak_. He observed her confusion--noticed the blush that -mantled on her cheeks--and, mistaking the cause said, as he took her -hand, ‘I am afraid, Miss Murray, that you consider it indiscreet for -me thus to pay my respects to you; and indeed, that fear has prevented -me from calling sooner.’--Julia started, cast down her eyes, and made -no reply; for in her artless innocence, it had never before struck -her that, an evil construction might be placed upon the visits of the -gentleman: but now the conviction that such was indeed the result to -be apprehended, was forced--yes, painfully forced--upon her sensitive -mind. The stranger read what was passing in her imagination; and if -he were delighted to observe that the danger which he had specified -was previously unsuspected by her ingenuous soul, he was not the -less gratified to acquire the certainty that her pure thoughts were -shocked by the idea of compromising her reputation.--‘Fear not, Miss -Murray,’ he continued, again taking her hand; ‘I should be the last -person on the face of the earth to do you a wilful injury in any way. -I have merely called, as in duty bound, to assure myself that you have -perfectly recovered from the effects of the distressing ordeal through -which you were compelled to pass in consequence of my carelessness. -But innocence, Miss Murray,’ he added, emphatically, ‘will invariably -triumph in the long run; and virtue will not ever languish unrewarded. -Your exemplary conduct, Miss Murray, must sooner or later be adequately -recompensed: your tenderness towards your orphan brother must ensure -for you the esteem and respect of all liberal and honest persons. May -I request, as a particular favour, that you will presently call on Mr. -Richardson, the solicitor, in Berners Street, close by; as I know that -he has some tidings, of rather an agreeable character, to impart to -you.’--With these words, the stranger pressed the young maiden’s hand, -and respectfully took his leave of her. - -“Julia hastened back to her own chamber, and related to the worthy, -well-meaning, but garrulous landlady, every thing that _the gentleman -in the cloak_ had said to her. ‘Ah! Miss,’ cried the woman, ‘I seemed -to have a fore-knowledge that something good was to happen to you; -and now I am sure of it. But pray make haste and see what the lawyer -wants with you.’--Julia did not require to be pressed upon this point: -she herself was too anxious to solve this new mystery to permit any -unnecessary delay to take place; and, having dressed little Harry in -his Sunday apparel, she put on her best bonnet and shawl, and away -the sister went with her little brother to the lawyer’s. They entered -an office in which there were a great many clerks, who all left off -writing to turn round and have a look at the pretty young lady--for a -lady did Julia really seem, as she actually was by birth, education, -and manners;--but when she timidly mentioned her name, she found -herself the object of the most respectful attention. The head clerk -ushered her and her brother into a handsome apartment, where an elderly -gentleman, with a benevolent countenance, was seated at a desk covered -with papers; and the reception which he gave Julia Murray was more -than courteous--it was cordial and, as it were, paternally kind. ‘Sit -down, young lady,’ he said, handing her to a chair: ‘and you, my little -fellow, place yourself near your sister. And now, Miss Murray,’ he -continued, raising his large silver spectacles from his eyes to his -forehead, ‘I have some good news to communicate to you; and I am sure, -after all I have heard of you, I am proud and happy to be the medium -of conveying any thing agreeable to your ears.’--‘You are very kind, -sir,’ murmured the young maiden, still in the deepest suspense.--‘Did -you ever hear your late father speak of any one who owed him a sum of -money?’ enquired the lawyer.--Julia reflected for a few moments, and -then replied in the negative.--‘Well, perhaps he did not mention his -private affairs before you,’ observed the lawyer; ‘it is nevertheless -a fact, that many years ago he advanced a certain sum to a friend who -was in difficulties; but these embarrassments continued, ending in -bankruptcy or something of the sort; and so your poor father lost the -whole amount thus advanced. The friend went abroad; and he has latterly -returned to England, a rich man--having retrieved his fortunes in a -foreign clime. He made enquiries after your parents, and to his sorrow -learnt that they were no more; but he could not succeed in tracing you -out. At length he saw a report of a certain case in the newspaper, and -ascertained that you were the young lady therein mentioned. His sorrow -at the first appearance of the affair was only equalled by his joy when -he beheld the result; for he has your interest deeply at heart. He has, -however, been compelled to leave London in a great hurry;--but before -he went away, he gave me certain instructions, which I have fulfilled -with all possible despatch. The sum which he borrowed of your father, -with compound interest, amounts to six hundred pounds; and this money -I have laid out for you in the purchase of a neat little house, with -good, serviceable furniture, in Camden Town. There is an excellent -young gentlemen’s school close by; and my client has paid a year in -advance for Master Harry’s tuition. He also intends that you shall be -at no expense for the boy’s education. Over and above all this, I am -instructed to place these fifty pounds in your hands; and if my client -has thus done more than his actual liability to your father required, -it is simply as a recompense for the long delay which has occurred -in refunding a loan so generously advanced and so vitally necessary -to him at the time. Now, my dear young lady, I have no more to say, -farther than that this card furnishes the address of your house, of -which I likewise present you the key; and may this little gleam of good -fortune encourage you to pursue the course which has hitherto won for -you so much esteem, and which may yet lead you to the highest pinnacle -of happiness and prosperity.’--With these words, the kind-hearted man -shook Julia warmly by the hand; the young maiden endeavoured to express -her heart-felt gratitude for the unexpected benefits thus showered upon -her: but tears--tears of happiness flowed down her cheeks--and her -bosom was so full of strange and conflicting emotions, that her powers -of utterance were suspended. Even as she took up the bank notes, the -key, and the card, and thrust them all together into her little silk -bag, her hands trembled so that she could scarcely perform those simple -acts; and when in a few minutes she found herself walking along the -street, with little Harry by her side, she could not remember leaving -the lawyer’s office. She fancied that she had been giving way to some -wild hallucination--some absurd delusion of the brain: but when she -felt in her bag, _there_ were the proofs of the reality! - -“It was no easy task to make little Harry comprehend the altered -nature of their circumstances. He could not conceive how his sister -had possibly obtained a house of her own, and fancied that she was -joking with him; for he had not been able to understand very much of -what the lawyer had said to Julia. However, all doubts on the boy’s -part vanished, when he heard his sister explain to their landlady -every thing that had taken place at Mr. Richardson’s, and conclude by -requesting that good woman to accompany her forthwith to Camden Town. -This desire was complied with; and away they all three went in a cab to -the address designated upon the card. In due time the vehicle drew up -opposite a neat house forming one of a terrace recently built; and the -little party entered the dwelling with the least possible delay. It was -all new from top to bottom,--the furniture, which was substantial and -good, was new likewise;--the hangings to the windows and the carpets -had been selected with admirable taste in reference to the colour and -pattern of the paper on the walls:--in fact, the abode was fitted up -in the most comfortable manner! ‘I congratulate you, my dear Miss -Murray,’ exclaimed her companion; ‘and I am sure I am as delighted -as yourself, although I shall lose you as a lodger. But you do not, -then, think that it was _the gentleman in the cloak_ who has done all -this?’--‘No,’ answered Julia; ‘that cannot be, because I am sure the -gentleman you speak of never knew my father; and moreover the kind -friend who has thus handsomely repaid the money my father lent him, -has gone out of town.’--‘Then how came _the gentleman in the cloak_ -to call and tell you, Miss, that the lawyer wished to see you?’--‘Ah! -I never thought of _that_!’ exclaimed Julia. ‘And yet,’ she added, -after a few moments’ serious reflection, ‘Mr. Richardson said that my -father’s debtor had found me out through the medium of the newspaper -report; and this circumstance may have brought him and _the gentleman -in the cloak_ together.’--‘True!’ ejaculated the garrulous woman. ‘Oh! -what a sweet place this is, to be sure!’--‘It is too good for me,’ said -Julia, in a mournful tone, the first feelings of delight now yielding -to sober reflection: ‘the occupant of such a house as this requires a -servant, and should possess a certain income; whereas I cannot afford -the former, not possessing the latter.’--‘Oh! Miss, are you blind to -all the advantages now spread before your eyes?’ demanded the woman. -‘Here you are in your own house, rent free, and with fifty pounds -in your pocket--Harry’s schooling to be paid into the bargain! All -your kind patronesses will give you as much work as you can possibly -manage, now that they will see how you are getting on in the world; -and the number of your customers must increase. Then you can have the -assistance of one or two respectable young girls; and you will not -only obtain a good living, but be able to save money.’--Julia saw the -truth of these observations; and her heart was relieved from a heavy -load.--‘Besides,’ said the talkative but well-meaning woman, ’it would -seem like flying in the face of Providence not to be thankful for -such bounties.’--‘Yes,’ ejaculated Julia, touched more profoundly by -this remark than by the worldly reasoning previously advanced by her -companion: ‘I _do_ sincerely and firmly believe that HE, who watches -all our ways and knows all our steps, has taken compassion upon me and -my darling brother; and I receive in thankfulness the blessings thus -showered upon me!’--Thus speaking, the young maiden turned aside for -a few moments; and heart-felt though short was the prayer which she -breathed in silence to the Almighty Ruler of the Universe! - -“On the following day Julia and her little brother removed to their -new house. It would be vain to attempt to describe the joy and delight -experienced by little Harry at this change, the more so inasmuch as -there was a large piece of ground attached to the back part of the -dwelling, where he could play when the weather was fine. Through the -agency of her late landlady, a poor widow-woman, of middle age, steady -habits, and great respectability, was recommended to Julia as servant -or housekeeper; and thus commenced the economy of the little household. -Julia’s first care was to address a note to all her kind patronesses -to acquaint them with her removal; and Lady Caroline Jerningham was -not forgotten. Harry commenced his attendance at the neighbouring -school, the master of which called upon Miss Murray and informed her -that he had received from Mr. Richardson a year’s payment in advance -for the boy’s tuition; and the preceptor being a kind, worthy man, -Harry soon became a great favourite with him. Several weeks passed -away; and it was astonishing how Julia’s business increased. Carriages -were constantly stopping at her door, the number of her patronesses -rapidly augmenting; and, on enquiry, she usually found that the -new recommendations emanated from Lady Caroline, who appeared, by -these results, to be constantly thinking of her friend, the young -milliner. In fact, Julia had so much work upon her hands that she was -compelled to give a great portion out to respectable needle-women -in the neighbourhood; for she preferred this mode of fulfilling her -engagements, rather than by taking assistants into the house. - -“Four months had thus passed away; and during this interval Julia had -never once seen _the gentleman in the cloak_; nor had she received a -visit from her father’s debtor, to whose honesty and generosity she -owed so much. She called once upon Mr. Richardson to express a hope -that the individual thus alluded to would give her an opportunity -of thanking him personally; but the lawyer assured her, and, as she -thought, somewhat abruptly, that he had left the country on a long -voyage; and she returned home, much vexed at the tidings she had -received. One evening--it was a Saturday evening, and at about nine -o’clock--a cab stopped at the door, and a double-knock immediately -announced some visitor. It happened that the housekeeper was absent on -a visit of two or three days to some relations in the country--the girl -who had been temporarily hired to do her work, and who did not sleep -in the house, had gone for the night--and Harry was in bed in his own -little room adjoining his sister’s bed-chamber up-stairs. Julia was -accordingly compelled to answer the door herself; and her surprise was -only equalled by her delight, when she found that her visitress was -Lady Caroline Jerningham, who had arrived thus mysteriously in a common -street-cab, which she had dismissed on alighting at her young friend’s -house. Miss Murray received her with the most sincere manifestations -of joy, and conducted her into the parlour, where a cheerful fire -was burning in the grate; for though it was now the month of April, -yet the evenings had not entirely lost the chill of winter. You must -remember that Julia had not seen Lady Caroline since that evening when -the latter sent for her to the mansion in Hanover Square, and on which -occasion they had exchanged vows of friendship. Nearly five months -had passed since that date; and it struck Julia, as the light of the -candles flashed upon the fair patrician’s countenance, that she was -much altered. Her face was pale and care-worn; and her eyes beamed -not with their wonted fires. ‘My dear Julia,’ she said, seating her -self near the fire, ‘I had intended to call upon you long ago; but I -have been ill and suffering, in mind and body. However,’ she added, -hastily, ‘I have never once forgotten you; and I am delighted to find -that your business has prospered so well.’--‘I am under obligations -to your ladyship which I can never repay,’ exclaimed Julia, taking -the patrician’s hand, and conveying it to her lips.--‘Do not address -me in that formal style, Julia,’ said Lady Caroline. ‘My God!’ she -cried, bitterly, ‘would that I were _not_ of noble birth: would that -I were a daughter of toil; for _then_ I should not have the thousand -Argus-eyes of _the world_ upon me!’--and she clasped her hands in a -manner indicative of deep mental anguish.--‘Dearest Lady Caroline,’ -exclaimed Julia, ‘what ails you? Oh! tell me, and show me how I may -minister to you in your sufferings!’--‘You once assured me, Julia, -_that you would serve me by day and by night_,’ said Lady Caroline, -speaking in a low and almost hollow tone, and casting anxious glances -around as if she were afraid of being overheard.--‘Yes, dearest lady,’ -returned Julia, emphatically; ‘and I renew that pledge! By day and by -night can you command me.’--‘Are we in danger of intrusion?’ demanded -Lady Caroline anxiously.--‘Not in the least, dear lady: excepting my -little brother, who is asleep in his own chamber, we are alone in the -house.’--‘Heaven be thanked!’ ejaculated Caroline Jerningham, speaking -as if at least some portion of the heavy weight that lay upon her -heart, were removed by this assurance.--‘My generous friend,’ said -Julia, ‘I see that you have a terrible but secret cause of grief; make -me your confidant, I implore you! If I can aid you, I shall rejoice -indeed to have the opportunity of proving my gratitude for all the -kindness I have received at your hands; and if I cannot assist, I may -at least be able to console you!’--‘Dearest Julia, I do indeed require -a friend at this moment; for surely never was wretched woman in such -dreadful embarrassment as myself! For the last few weeks I have lived -only like one distracted--keeping my chamber, and affecting an illness, -though steadily refusing to receive the advice of the family physician! -And now, fortunately my mother has gone on a visit for a few days to -some friends in the country; and my own maid is in my confidence and -is trustworthy. Thus my absence from home will not be suspected; and -in this is now my only hope! O Julia, Julia--can you not understand my -meaning?’--then, casting herself at the feet of the young milliner, the -almost heart-broken Lady Caroline exclaimed, in the wildest paroxysm -of bitter, bitter grief, as she joined her hands imploringly, ‘Save my -honour, Julia--save my reputation,--and by so doing you save my life: -for I would perish by my own hand rather than endure exposure!’--‘My -God! dearest lady, what do you mean?’ demanded Julia, fearful lest her -friend’s senses were leaving her, and that she was uttering meaningless -phrases in the incipient aberration of the intellect: ‘tell me, how can -I save you in any way? for you know that you may depend upon me to the -utmost!’--‘How can you save me!’ repeated the agonising young lady, in -a voice of the most plaintive appeal: ‘Oh! do you not comprehend my -condition, Julia? And yet I am about to become a mother!’ - -“These words fell with stupefying, astounding effect upon the ears of -Julia Murray: indeed, she could scarcely believe that she had rightly -interpreted their meaning. The unhappy Caroline mistook the cause -of the young milliner’s silence and amazement; and, rising from her -suppliant posture, she exclaimed, while the proud patrician blood -rushed to her cheeks, ‘I understand you, Miss: you are shocked at the -announcement I have made, and you are indignant that I should apply to -you to screen me. I will drag myself away from your house, therefore; -imploring you only to keep the secret which I have been so foolish, -so inconsiderate to reveal to you.’--‘Just heaven! what do I hear? -reproaches from your lips!’ cried Julia; and embracing the unhappy -lady with sisterly warmth, she said, ‘No, no: you have misunderstood -me! Grief and surprise for a moment sealed my lips: but you find -me ready to succour you, dearest benefactress, to the utmost of my -power!’--‘Thank you, kind friend,’ murmured Lady Caroline, falling -back exhausted into her seat; for the agitated state of her feelings, -and the harrowing emotions which the dread of Julia’s coldness had -just caused her to experience, produced effects of a most perilous -nature. The young milliner knew not how to act: she was bewildered; -and, wringing her hands, exclaimed, ‘Oh! what shall I do? how can I aid -her?’--Lady Caroline partially recovered her presence of mind as these -words fell upon her ears; and giving a few hasty instructions, these -were instantly obeyed. Julia conducted, or rather supported her to her -own bed-chamber; and then, throwing on her bonnet and shawl, hurried -away to fetch the nearest surgeon. The medical man whom she sought -was at home; and he accompanied the milliner to the house, where he -arrived just at the moment that his services were required. In a word, -Lady Caroline Jerningham that night became the mother of a fine boy, -although the birth was premature by nearly a month, and she had risked -much by the necessity of adopting the indispensable means in regard to -dress to conceal her situation for many weeks past. - -“The surgeon, who had every reason to be satisfied with the liberality -of Julia on behalf of her unhappy friend, and who was moreover a -discreet man, perceived that his patient was a young lady of superior -grade in society, and therefore volunteered his aid in ensuring the -concealment of the affair. In fact, he stated that he was acquainted -with a poor woman in the neighbourhood, who, having just lost her own -infant, would be delighted to take charge of the newly-born babe. -Lady Caroline was so far recovered as to be able to take part in this -conference; and, without suffering the slightest hint to transpire as -to who she was, she nevertheless intimated her readiness and ability to -remunerate in the most liberal manner those who might be instrumental -in completing the arrangement suggested. The surgeon accordingly -undertook the settlement of the business; and, after an hour’s absence, -he returned, accompanied by a young, good-looking, healthy woman, who -was willing to embrace the proposal that had been made to her. She was -married to a labouring man; her name was Porter; and she lived at the -distance of about half a mile from Julia’s house. Lady Caroline had -a well-filled purse; but even if the contrary had been the case, her -friend the milliner could have supplied the funds required. As it was, -the young mother gave Mrs. Porter twenty pounds in advance; and having -mentioned a feigned name and address, when questioned on that point, -Lady Caroline parted with her babe--though not without many a bitter -pang and a torrent of heart-wrung tears! - -“That was a wretched night for poor Julia Murray. In the warmth of her -gratitude and friendship, she had become an accomplice in what she -fancied, when she had leisure for sober reflection, to be something -bordering upon the nature of a crime. Her pure soul shrank from the -idea of the unnatural abandonment by a mother of her child to the mercy -of a stranger, rendered necessary even though the proceeding were by -the peculiar circumstances in which that mother was placed. Moreover, -the readiness with which Lady Caroline had given a false name and -address had somewhat shocked the truth-loving Julia;--and then she -feared lest the whole matter should by any possibility become known, -and compromise her own reputation. All these thoughts and apprehensions -swept across her mind, after the surgeon and Mrs. Porter had taken -their departure, and while Lady Caroline slept. But the generous girl -strove to banish from her mind reflections which tended to diminish -her respect for the patrician lady who had manifested so much kindness -towards her: moreover, the natural feelings of a woman towards one -of her own sex placed in such interesting though embarrassing, not -to say _alarming_ circumstances,--the sentiments of commiseration, -deep sympathy, and tender friendship, soon triumphed over all other -considerations;--and when Caroline awoke, just as the grey dawn of -morning was breaking into the chamber, she found the young milliner -watching by her bedside. The suffering lady was considerably refreshed -and strengthened by the long sleep she had enjoyed: her mind was -moreover relieved from the most excruciating anxieties:--and she poured -forth her gratitude to Julia Murray in the most sincere and heartfelt -manner. Then, in the fulness of the tender confidence which had arisen -between them, Caroline told her friend how she had loved her cousin, -a young lieutenant in the Navy,--how their union was forbidden by her -proud mother though assented to by her generous brother, the Marquis -of Wilmington,--how her mother had used her interest privately to get -the young man appointed to a ship and sent to sea with only a few days’ -warning,--and how, in the anguish of parting, she--Lady Caroline--had -fallen a victim to her fatal passion! This narrative moved Julia to -tears;--for the young milliner now comprehended what love was--and -she felt that she also loved,--and that when she sorrowed in secret -at the protracted absence of the stranger who had given her the gilt -counter, it was in consequence of the impression which he had made upon -her heart! Thus did Julia Murray at length obtain the reading of the -mysterious sensations that stirred within her own soul. - -“Fortunately there was a means of egress from little Harry’s room, -without the necessity of the boy’s passing through his sister’s -chamber; and thus was the presence of Lady Caroline retained a -profound secret from him. You must also recollect that the incidents -just related occurred on the Saturday night; and Harry had by chance -received an invitation to pass the Sunday with his schoolmaster’s -family. Every circumstance thus appeared to favour the complete -concealment of Lady Caroline’s confinement. But it was now necessary -that Julia should repair to the mansion in Hanover Square, and -acquaint the young lady’s confidential maid with the event which had -taken place, as well as to arrange for Caroline’s unobserved return -home on the Monday evening;--for though at the risk of her life, -she was resolved to remain away no longer than the time specified. -This commission Julia faithfully performed; and after an absence -of upwards of two hours, she reached her own abode once more. The -patient was improving rapidly; and when the surgeon called a second -time on that Sunday, he was astonished to find her so strong and in -the possession of so much physical and moral energy. To be brief, -on the Monday evening, according to agreement, Lady Caroline, well -wrapped up, disguised in the attire of a daughter of the middle class, -and with a dark green veil drawn carefully over her countenance, -accompanied Julia in a hackney-coach to Hanover Square; and the two -were admitted into the mansion, the hall-porter believing his young -mistress to be a friend and equal of the milliner. In this manner -they reached Caroline’s own chamber without the truth being for an -instant suspected; and the confidential maid was in readiness to -receive her lady. Julia remained there until the maid had ascertained -that the hall-porter had been relieved by another domestic during the -supper-hour; and then the milliner took her departure, accompanied by -the fervent gratitude and blessings of the fair patrician whom she had -thus extricated from a maze of the most frightful difficulties. - -“The very next morning, while Julia was seated at work in her parlour, -reflecting upon the incidents of the three preceding days, she heard -the iron gate in front of the house groan upon its hinges; and, -looking up, she beheld from the window the tall, handsome gentleman -approaching the door. The day was fine; and he no longer wore his -cloak;--and his garb was plain, unpretending, and perfectly genteel. -The housekeeper having returned home that same morning, Julia awaited -with a beating heart in the parlour the presence of her visitor; and -when he entered, she felt so confused--for a variety of reasons--that -she could not utter a word. In the first place she knew that she loved -him;--secondly she remembered all the enquiries he had put to her -late landlady concerning her;--and thirdly, she recalled to mind the -gentle, good, and almost paternal way in which he had addressed her -when last they met; and she fancied that in her conduct respecting -Lady Caroline she had deviated somewhat from the strict line of -integrity, truth, and virtue for pursuing which he had so emphatically -commended her, and in which he had with equal earnestness enjoined -her to persevere. Taking her hand, he said, ‘Miss Murray, have you -completely forgotten me?’--‘Oh! no, sir,’ she cried, with a start as -if at an imputation of ingratitude: ‘that were impossible!’--‘And -yet why should you remember me?’ he asked, gazing intently upon her: -’have I ever done you any service that deserves a thought? The only -incident which is likely to dwell in your mind respecting me, is the -wretchedness and embarrassment to which my thoughtless conduct exposed -you. But for all that you then endured, have I ever made you the -slightest recompense?’--‘Oh! sir,’ cried Julia, the blood rushing to -her cheeks, ‘do you think for a moment that I ever sought or looked -for a pecuniary indemnification? Heavens, how have you mistaken my -character!’--and she burst into tears. The stranger gazed upon her, -and even smiled as if in satisfaction: but he said nothing.--‘No, -sir,’ resumed the young milliner, hastily passing her handkerchief -across her countenance and wiping away the traces of her grief; ‘I -am not a mercenary person, such as you appear to suppose me. I _did_ -remember you _with gratitude_,’ she continued, her voice becoming -mournful and plaintive in spite of herself; ‘because you spoke -kindly to me on that evening when the accident occurred to the silk -dress--because you proffered me assistance at a moment when I and my -little brother really needed it--because I always believed and still -believe that it was on your part entirely an error which led me into -such a serious difficulty--because you _then_ told me that you would -not insult me by offering me any pecuniary recompense--and because, -when you called again, you spoke kindly to me as before, gave me -good advice, and also brought me intelligence from Mr. Richardson, -which has led to my present prosperity. For all these reasons, sir,’ -she added emphatically, ‘I have thought of you often and often; and -I considered myself to be deeply your debtor.’--‘Excellent girl!’ -exclaimed the gentleman, surveying her with mingled admiration and -interest: ‘not for worlds would I insult your feelings, nor wound -your generous heart! And it was precisely through delicacy in those -respects, that I never did openly proffer you any pecuniary assistance, -since that one unfortunate occasion in Hanover Square. Again, let me -observe, that if I have not visited you for four long months, I have -not been unmindful of your welfare. I have, as it were, watched over -you from a distance; and I have learnt with supreme satisfaction, -that your conduct _has_ continued most exemplary. Miss Murray, I am -perhaps singular and eccentric in my notions; and, though highly -placed in the social sphere, yet I have determined to consult only my -own happiness, at least for the future, in the most important step -which a man can adopt in life. I allude to marriage.’--Julia started, -blushed, and cast down her eyes; and this confusion on her part seemed -to encourage her visitor to proceed.--‘I must candidly inform you,’ he -resumed, ’that I have been a husband already, and that the alliance -which I formed almost in my boyhood, and in obedience to the dictates -of an imperious mother, was an unhappy one. My wife was a heartless -coquette--vain--frivolous--and possessing no _mind_. I sought by -gentleness and kindness to render her attached to her home, although -I never really loved her; but all was useless. At last she caught a -severe cold when returning from a rout, early on a winter’s morning; -and a rapid decline soon carried her to the tomb. This occurred two -years ago. I then vowed that if I should ever contract a second -union, it must be where the heart alone was interested. This resolve -I declared to my mother; and it has in a measure, I regret to say it, -incensed her against me. The very first time I ever saw you, I felt -myself suddenly and mysteriously attracted towards you. All that I -have since heard or seen of you has tended to confirm that favourable -impression; and I am come this morning to offer you my hand, as you -already possess my heart.’ - -“A faintness--an indescribable sensation of mingled joy and -apprehension came over Julia, as these last words met her ears,--joy -in the hope that she had heard aright, apprehension lest she were the -prey of a delightful vision which was too soon to be dissipated. But -when she felt her hand pressed to the lips of that handsome suitor who -now knelt at her feet, and listened to the tender assurances of an -honourable and lasting affection which he breathed with manly sincerity -in her ears, she exclaimed, under the sudden impulse of her heart’s -emotions, ‘Is it possible that so much happiness can be in store for -me?’--Her suitor received those words as an assent to his proposal; -and, pressing the young maiden to his bosom, he said, ‘Then without -knowing my name you have loved me, dearest Julia?’--She murmured -an affirmative; and a rapid interchange of questions and replies -convinced him that the young maiden had all along remembered him not -_with gratitude_, but _with affection_! Thereupon, seating himself -by her side, and retaining her pretty hand in his, he said, ‘Then -henceforth, Julia, there need exist no mystery on my part. I am the -pretended debtor to your deceased father; and Mr. Richardson, my own -attorney, followed my secret instructions in providing for yourself and -your brother. My object was to place you in comfort, yet still leave -you in a condition that rendered you to a certain degree dependant -on your own honest industry; and I have been overjoyed to find that -prosperity has not induced you to relax your energies, nor led you into -extravagances, nor in any way proved injurious to your fair fame, your -amiable disposition, and your steady perseverance. With delight, then, -shall I accompany so worthy a woman to the altar; and with pride shall -I present you to the world as the Marchioness of Wilmington!’--‘Oh! my -lord,’ murmured Julia, a greater faintness than before now coming over -her, as the lofty rank of her suitor was thus announced to her, ‘is it -possible that you can be the brother of that young lady to whom I owe -so much?’--and then she blushed deeply, and a cold shudder passed over -her frame as she remembered what a tremendous secret she had retained -in her bosom, and must retain inviolably concerning the sister of him -who offered to make her the partner of his rank and fortune.--‘Yes,’ -said the marquis, attributing her emotions to the happiness as well -as the maidenly confusion which it was natural for her to experience -under existing circumstances; ‘that Lady Caroline whom you know, is -my sister. You may judge my surprise when, on the night that I first -encountered you in Hanover Square, you informed me that the spoilt -dress was my mother’s. The very next morning I called at her residence -and privately acquainted Caroline with the little adventure, casually -saying that I had been a witness of the accident which was occasioned -through no neglect nor carelessness on your part, and desiring her -when you presented yourself to mitigate as much as possible my -mother’s certain resentment against you. Since that period my sister -has frequently spoken to me concerning you, and has recommended you -extensively to her numerous fashionable acquaintances. But, much as -I love and would trust Lady Caroline, I have never informed her of -the attachment I experienced for you, nor of the fact that I was your -father’s pretended debtor. This reserve originated merely in the -determination to watch your conduct,--I may tell you all this now, dear -girl,--from a distance; so that time might decide whether I should lay -my coronet at your feet, or renounce all farther idea of an alliance -with you. Thank, heaven! the former is the happy destiny; and now I -have explained all that may have seemed strange or mysterious in your -estimation.’ - -“Julia could scarcely find words to express her gratitude for all -the delicate attentions and generous acts of which the nobleman had -thus been the hitherto unknown author: but he sealed her lips with -a fond kiss, and then proceeded to address her in the following -manner:--‘I propose, dearest girl, that our union shall take place -in six months from the present time. The reason that I suggest so -long a delay is that I may visit you occasionally, in company with -my sister, be it understood, so that you may learn to know me better -than you now do; and as I shall at once make a confidant of Caroline, -and am well acquainted with the generosity of her disposition, you -need not apprehend any coolness or hostility on her part. Quite the -contrary: she will love you as a sister. Ah! I observe that you sigh -and experience an agitation of feeling, my Julia; but you have no -cause to dread any exhibition of foolish pride with Caroline. Relative -to my mother, I say nothing--promise nothing: at the same time I -cannot permit her will to rule my happiness. And now I shall take my -leave of you for the present, Julia; and I shall at once hasten to -Hanover Square, to confide all that has occurred between us to my -sister, who, I regret to state, has been confined for some days past -to her own chamber. Alas! she, poor girl, has suffered in her best -and holiest affections through her mother’s pride; but I rejoice to -say that happiness awaits her yet. By the sudden death of a young -cousin, Lieutenant Quentin has become Lord Hartley, and his ship will -return in a few months to England. This most unexpected succession -to title and wealth, will smooth down all the difficulties which my -mother has hitherto interposed in the way of her daughter’s happiness; -and who knows, Julia,’ added the marquis, smiling, ‘but that the two -marriages may be celebrated at the same time?’--‘God grant that they -may!’ exclaimed the young milliner, with a strange emphasis; then, -immediately afterwards she observed, ‘For, believe me, I have your -sister’s happiness most sincerely at heart.’--‘I shall not fail to tell -Caroline all you say,’ returned the marquis; ‘and she will be prepared -to love you the more tenderly. And now, dear Julia,’ he added, rising -to depart, ‘I must bid you farewell for the present. The next time -I call I shall give you due notice beforehand, so that you may have -little Harry here to see me. But permit me, before I depart, to request -you to divest yourself by degrees of the business and occupations which -have accumulated upon you. To speak plainly, you need receive no more -work from any person; and you will permit my solicitor, Mr. Richardson, -to supply you monthly with such sums as you may require for your -expenditure.’--All this was said by Lord Wilmington in so delicate yet -tender a manner, that it increased Julia’s attachment to him, as well -as her high esteem of his character; and they parted, more than ever -pleased with each other. - -“In the afternoon, Julia was sitting at her work, pondering upon all -that had occurred, and scarcely able yet to convince herself that -she was not a prey to some delusive vision, when Lady Caroline’s -maid called with a note from her mistress. In this _billet_ the fair -patrician said, ‘_My brother has told me all, dearest Julia; and -believe me when I assure you, that it will afford me unfeigned delight -to hail you as a sister. Never, never can I forget all your goodness -towards me in the hour of my bitter extremity. But, for heaven’s sake! -guard well my secret! This injunction, however, I need scarcely give -you. And yet, there is one thing which now affects me; this is----shall -you not blush to acknowledge_ ME _as your sister-in-law, since you are -acquainted with my disgrace? My heart tells me that you commiserate and -sympathise: but my fears--Oh! until I receive from you an assurance -that may calm them--those fears are truly painful!_’--The generous -Julia hastened to pen a reply, conveying in the tenderest terms the -assurance solicited; and, having ascertained that the young lady was -progressing rapidly towards complete convalescence, she dismissed the -maid with the letter entrusted to her. Three weeks, however, elapsed -before Lady Caroline was sufficiently recovered to call upon her friend -Julia; and then she came alone--for her mother’s heart yearned to visit -her child. Under the influence of this feeling, she was moved to tears -when she learnt that every alternate day Miss Murray had made it a -point to call at Mrs. Porter’s residence and assure herself that the -poor babe was duly cared for. ‘This is another proof of your goodness, -Julia!’ exclaimed Lady Caroline, falling upon her friend’s neck and -weeping with mingled gratitude and joy. They presently proceeded -together to the good woman’s abode; and the young mother was charmed -to find her child thriving to her heart’s best satisfaction. On the -following day Lady Caroline revisited Julia; but this time it was in -company with her brother the Marquis;--and little Harry was at home -to see them. You may suppose that the party was a happy one; and it -gave the nobleman ineffable delight to observe that his sister and his -intended wife were on the best possible terms with each other. But he -little suspected the tremendous secret that had thus cemented their -friendship;--and it cost poor Julia many a pang when she reflected that -she was compelled to retain any secret at all from the knowledge of the -generous man who reposed such confidence in her! There was however no -help for it;--and yet Julia felt as if she were acting with blameable -duplicity in veiling a circumstance which for her friend’s sake, she -would nevertheless rather die than reveal: and after her noble visitors -had taken their departure, she did not experience that amount of -happiness which, with her present brilliant prospects, she knew she -ought to enjoy. - -“I must not dwell upon this portion of my narrative. Let us suppose -five months to have passed away; during which period the marquis had -been constant in his visits to Julia, but always in the company of his -sister. So delicate was his behaviour in respect to the reputation of -his intended bride, that he avoided every chance of compromising her; -and although the neighbours saw a gentleman, whose name they did not -know, call three times a-week upon the beautiful milliner, they never -beheld him repair thither alone. Thus there was no scope for scandal; -and Julia’s conduct was always so circumspect as to prove a complete -antidote to calumny. I should observe that during the five months -mentioned, the attachment subsisting between the pair increased, and -warmed into the most ardent love; and I must not forget to state that -Lady Caroline visited her child at Mrs. Porter’s house as frequently -as she was able. But Julia seldom failed to call there every alternate -day; and thus the rearing of the poor infant was strictly watched by -its mother, and that mother’s bosom friend. Sometimes Harry accompanied -his sister in her walk to Mrs. Porter’s cottage; but the little fellow -was always made to wait in one room while Julia was shown the baby in -another--and thus the real motive of her visits there was unsuspected -by him. Not that she feared he would reveal any thing which he was -enjoined to keep secret; but Julia believed--and rightly believed--that -it was alike more prudent and delicate to leave him in total ignorance -of the object which took her to the cottage. Thus time wore on, as I -have already mentioned; and now I must remark that in compliance with -the wishes of Lord Wilmington, Julia had by this time altogether ceased -to receive work; but instead of drawing on the funds placed at her -disposal in the hands of Mr. Richardson, she subsisted upon the savings -which she had been enabled to accumulate. I mention all these little -circumstances, to afford you as good an idea as I can convey of the -excellence of her disposition, and the total absence of selfishness -from her character. In fact, the more the marquis saw of her, the more -enamoured of her did he become, and the greater grew his admiration of -her amiable qualities. It was therefore with joy the most unfeigned -that he at length considered himself justified in fixing the day for -the bridal; and this ceremony was settled to take place precisely on -the completion of the six months from the hour in which he had offered -her his hand. - -“While Julia was occupied in preparing her own wedding-dress, the -Marquis busied himself in rendering his splendid mansion in Belgrave -Square as suitable as possible for the reception of his bride. In the -meantime he had communicated to the Dowager-Marchioness his intended -marriage; but, as he had feared, his design experienced the most -decided disapproval on her part. Vainly did he reason with her on the -subject--uselessly did he represent that his happiness was seriously -involved: his mother refused to listen to him;--and he had the -mortification to incur her most serious displeasure. The bitterness of -her hostility to the match he however concealed from Julia; and, much -as he deplored the breach which now existed between himself and his -only surviving parent, not for a moment did he entertain the thought of -yielding to her tyranny. Thus the time passed on; and it was now within -three days of the one fixed for the bridal ceremony, when an incident -occurred which produced a terrible change in the aspect of affairs. - -[Illustration] - -“It was a fine summer morning, and the clock was striking eight just -as Julia and little Harry were sitting down to breakfast, when the old -housekeeper entered to inform her mistress that a woman by the name of -Porter desired to speak to her without delay;--for you most remember -that the housekeeper was entirely ignorant of the transaction which so -nearly concerned Lady Caroline Jerningham, and to some extent involved -Miss Murray, at least as an accessory, in the mysterious business. -Mrs. Porter was instantly admitted into the parlour; and when she -appeared, and the housekeeper had retired, Julia approached her in an -agitated manner and with an enquiring look,--for it struck her that -this visit--the first which the woman had ever paid to the house since -that night when the infant was entrusted to her--augured something -unpleasant. In her excitement she forgot the presence of her brother -Harry--whom the woman herself likewise overlooked; and, to the anxious -glance darted upon her, Mrs. Porter verbally replied by exclaiming, -‘Oh! Miss, the dear child has been suddenly taken dangerously -ill!’--‘The child dangerously ill!’ repeated Julia, who had learnt to -love the infant almost as much as if it were her own: ‘I will accompany -you directly;’ and, hurrying from the room, she presently reappeared -with her bonnet and shawl. Then, noticing Harry, it flashed to her mind -that he had overheard what had been said: but a second thought told -her that more harm would be done by attempting to explain away any -impression that might have been made upon his mind, than by leaving the -matter as it then stood;--and, having merely observed to him that she -should return shortly, Julia hastened away in company with Mrs. Porter. -Harry finished his breakfast, not thinking much of the few words which -had caught his ears, but which he could not rightly understand; and, -as it was holiday-time, he was about to repair to play in the garden -at the back of the house, when a double knock at the front door made -him hasten to the window. Perceiving that the visitor was the Marquis, -he ran to give him admittance; and the nobleman entered the parlour. -‘Where is your sister, Harry?’ he asked, caressing the boy in a kind -manner.--‘She is gone out, my lord,’ was the reply.--‘This early!’ -exclaimed the Marquis; ‘and I had promised myself the pleasure of -breakfasting with you both. The morning was so fine, and as I am a very -early riser, I rode out as far as the turnpike, and have sent my horse -back with the groom.’--The nobleman spoke this rather in a musing tone, -than actually addressing himself to the boy; and, after a pause, he -observed, ‘I suppose your sister will not be long?’--‘I do not know, -my lord,’ answered Harry. ‘A woman came just as we were sitting down -to breakfast, and Julia seemed much vexed at what she told her.’--‘I -hope that nothing disagreeable has occurred?’ cried the Marquis, in a -tone of alarm.--‘The woman, whose name is Porter, informed Julia that -the child was dangerously ill,’ responded Harry; ‘and then they went -away together.’--‘Oh! I understand,’ said the Marquis: ‘the child of -some poor woman named Porter is unwell, and your sister has gone to see -it.’--‘No, my lord, I don’t think the child is Mrs. Porter’s,’ returned -Harry, ingenuously, and with boyish communicativeness; ’for I have -often called at her cottage with Julia, and I have heard Mr. Porter -say that his wife’s own baby died last winter.’--‘And Julia has often -called there?’ exclaimed the Marquis, a horrible suspicion suddenly -arising in his mind.--‘Very often indeed,’ answered Harry, totally -unconscious of the tremendous amount of mischief he was occasioning. -‘When we have been out walking together, we have come round that way, -and stopped at the cottage; and then I have waited in the kitchen with -Mr. Porter, who used to give me cakes or marbles, while Julia went up -stairs with Mrs. Porter.’--‘And did you ever see the child?’ asked the -nobleman, assuming as much composure as he could possibly call to his -aid.--‘No; Julia never told me a word about it.’--‘And how did you -first hear of it?’--‘Just now, when Mrs. Porter rushed in and said that -the child was ill’--‘And was Julia very, very sorry?’ demanded the -Marquis.--‘Oh! yes, indeed!’ cried the boy, who saw nothing strange nor -unusual in the nobleman’s tone or manner, and regarded this dialogue -as mere chit-chat.--‘And whereabout is Mrs. Porter’s cottage?’ asked -Wilmington, in whose bosom a perfect hell was now raging.--‘Shall I -show your lordship the way?’ said Harry. The nobleman nodded his head -affirmatively; and the little fellow hastened to fetch his cap. They -then proceeded in silence until they came within sight of the cottage, -which Harry pointed out.--‘You may now go home again,’ said the -Marquis; and Harry obeyed the hint, still totally unsuspicious of the -harm which his candid garrulity had accomplished. - -“The nobleman, when thus left alone, could no longer restrain the -emotions which agitated within him. Turning aside from the path -leading towards the cottage, he rushed into the fields, exclaiming -aloud, ‘Just heavens! on what an abyss was I hovering! But can such -diabolical perfidy exist on the part of one so young? Oh! yes--it is -too apparent; and my mother was right when she counselled me never to -bestow my hand on a woman moving in a sphere beneath my own!’--Having -thus given vent to his excited feelings, Wilmington grew more composed; -and he now approached the cottage. The door stood open; and, entering -without any ceremony, he saw a woman at the same instant descend from -a staircase. ‘Is your name Porter?’ he enquired, speaking in as mild -a tone as possible.--‘Yes, sir,’ she answered.--‘And it is here that -a child who has been, as it were, abandoned by its unnatural mother, -is lying dangerously ill?’ he said, fixing his eyes keenly upon the -woman’s countenance.--‘Thank God, the dear innocent is better!’ -exclaimed Mrs. Porter, taken completely off her guard, and even -entertaining a suspicion that the gentleman himself might be the father -of her nursling.--‘Now, confess every thing,’ cried the Marquis, ’or -it will be the worse for you! Was it not Miss Murray who engaged your -services----’.--‘No, sir: it was the surgeon who attended the lady in -her confinement,’ interrupted Mrs. Porter, terrified by the stern tone -which her querist had suddenly adopted; ’but it was at Miss Murray’s -house----’.--‘Enough! enough!’ ejaculated. Wilmington; and he hurried -away from the cottage. - -“In the meantime Julia had returned home, having assured herself that -the child was out of danger; and as she retraced her way by means of -a bye-path, it happened that she did not encounter her brother and -the marquis. But little Harry was light of foot; and he, having been -dismissed by the nobleman in the way above stated, reached the front -door at the same instant as his sister. She was surprised to find that -he had been out--still more so when she learnt that Lord Wilmington -had called so early. But a frightful sensation seized upon her, when -Harry ingenuously observed that the nobleman had taken him to lead -the way to the cottage. Subduing her emotions, however, as well as -she could, she proceeded to question her brother; and in a short time -she ascertained all that had passed between him and the Marquis. Each -answer that he gave--each detail that he mentioned, increased the -horrible fears which now oppressed her; and, at last--comprehending the -full extent of her misfortune,--perceiving the nature of the suspicions -which were sure to have seized upon her intended husband,--she uttered -a piercing cry, pressed her hands in anguish to her throbbing brow, -and exclaimed in a piercing tone, ‘Oh! Harry, Harry, you know not what -you have done!’--The boy was frightened; and, darting towards his -sister, he threw his arms around her neck, imploring her to forgive him -if he had acted improperly. Even in the midst of her bitter, bitter -anguish, she could not find it in her heart to continue angry with -her little brother, who had not wantonly nor wickedly inflicted this -appalling injury upon her; and, assuming an appearance of calmness, -she became the consoler. In the depth of misery there is a crisis that -makes even despair the immediate precursor of hope; and Julia began to -reason to herself that all might not be so dark as she had feared. But -while she was thus endeavouring to persuade her inmost soul to render -itself accessible to consolation, a note was put into her hand by the -housekeeper. She glanced at the address which was hurriedly--almost -illegibly written, and the ink of which was scarcely dry,--so that -she knew it had been penned somewhere in the neighbourhood. With -trembling hands she tore it open; and her strength and mental energy -sustained her sufficiently to permit the entire perusal of the letter. -Its contents ran thus:--‘_I have discovered your frailty, your guilt, -your hypocrisy, just in time to save myself from an alliance which -would have brought dishonour on my name, and heaped endless miseries -on my head. I shall not attempt to reproach you at any length for your -conduct towards me: my generous confidence has been met by the blackest -duplicity--the most diabolical ingratitude; and your conscience will -punish you more--oh! far more severely than any words that I may -address to you. Neither shall I adopt the mean and petty revenge of -exposing you: but if you ever dare to boast that you were once engaged -to be married to the Marquis of Wilmington, then shall I consider that -it would be a sin to spare you._’ - -“The letter dropped from Julia’s hand; and, with a wild shriek, she -fell senseless on the floor. The housekeeper administered restoratives, -while little Harry, who was himself a prey to the liveliest grief he -had ever yet known, hurried to fetch the surgeon. It was the same -medical man who had attended upon Lady Caroline Jerningham; and he was -prompt in repairing to a house where his former services had been so -liberally rewarded. Julia had somewhat recovered in the meantime; but -he pronounced her to be in a dangerous state--and, indeed, she seemed -quite unconscious of every thing that was passing around her. She was -conveyed to her chamber,--medicine was prescribed,--and the surgeon -recommended the housekeeper not to leave her mistress alone more than -was absolutely necessary, inasmuch as he feared that her brain was -affected. Little Harry was inconsolable at his sister’s illness--the -more especially that he reproached himself with having been the cause -of it all; though how he had done the harm he could not by any means -understand. Seated by Julia’s bed-side, he fixed his tearful eyes on -her pale countenance, as she slumbered uneasily; and when hours had -passed, and evening came, and still she awoke not, he was afraid that -she was dead. The housekeeper, however, assured him to the contrary; -and then he bent softly over his sister, to whom the surgeon had -administered an opiate, and gently kissed her lips. She murmured a -name--it was his own name--and opened her eyes. Complete consciousness -returned in a few minutes; and as she rapidly surveyed her misfortune -and calculated its extent, she shuddered at the idea of even attempting -to meet it with resignation. But for that little brother’s sake--the -sake of him whom she had found bending over her, and whose name was -the first that her lips breathed on her waking,--for _his_ sake she -nerved herself to wage war with the world once more. Though a word -of explanation--the mere revelation of Lady Caroline’s secret would -at once restore her to that position so full of hope which she had -occupied in the morning,--still her generous heart would not allow her -to betray her friend. No: she would sooner pine away and go down to -an early grave, heart-broken and spirit-crushed, than proclaim to the -Marquis the secret of his noble sister’s dishonour! - -“It was about seven o’clock in the evening of this dreadful day that -a hasty and impatient double-knock at the front door was heard; and a -few moments afterwards Lady Caroline Jerningham was ushered into the -chamber where Julia was lying. The moment she entered, the patient made -a signal for the housekeeper and little Harry to withdraw; and when the -two friends were alone together, a most affecting scene took place. -It appeared that the marquis had that afternoon written a letter to -his sister, of which the following were the enigmatical contents:--‘_I -am almost heart-broken, my dearest Caroline, and cannot see you at -present. I shall retire into the country for a few weeks--perhaps -months--to hide my grief from every eye, and endeavour to regain -somewhat of that mental composure which has been almost completely -wrecked this day. Julia is unworthy of my love and of your friendship: -what the proof of this may be, ask not--seek not to learn;--but I -charge you to visit her no more. Your afflicted brother_,’ &c.--On the -receipt of this note, Lady Caroline, who could not help suspecting that -this suddenly wrought change in the sentiments of the Marquis arose -from some fearful misunderstanding or some partial discovery respecting -the child, had hastened, almost distracted and a prey to intolerable -suspense, to Julia’s abode; and there she was shocked to find her -generous-hearted friend stretched upon a bed of sickness. Embracing -each other affectionately, they gave mutual explanations; and Lady -Caroline perceived that her worst fears were confirmed. The Marquis had -indeed made a discovery relative to the infant; but he was deceived -with regard to its maternity. And now who can describe the admiration -which Lady Caroline experienced for the character of her friend, -when she learnt that the poor girl would rather lie under the dread -suspicion of the Marquis--rather resign all her brilliant prospects, -and see her heart’s fondest affections blighted,--rather, in fact, -resign herself to immolation than betray her whose secret she deemed so -sacred! - -“‘No--no!’ exclaimed the fair patrician, throwing herself upon Julia’s -bosom, and weeping plenteously; ’this may not be! Never can I permit -you, noble-hearted girl, to endure infamy, reproach, and wretchedness -for my sake! I will at once follow my brother into the country, throw -myself at his feet, confess all, and bring him back to you!’--‘And then -what will become of _you_, Caroline?’ asked Julia, mingling her tears -with those of her friend.’--‘Oh! I shall retire from the world, and -bury myself, with my innocent babe, in some solitude--in some far-off -village, perhaps, where, under a feigned name, I may escape the world’s -scorn for this fatal weakness which has caused so much misery!’--and, -as she spoke, Lady Caroline’s voice indicated the most acute anguish -of heart. ‘Unless,’ she added, her tone suddenly becoming hoarse and -hollow, and her manner unnaturally subdued,--‘unless, indeed, my -brother, in the first ebullition of his rage should stretch me dead -at his feet; and that is the most probable result!’--‘Then, dearest -Caroline,’ exclaimed Julia, speaking in a tone of mingled alarm and -earnest entreaty, ‘for heaven’s sake renounce this mad project! Do not -think of seeking your brother and thus exposing yourself to his rage. -I owe you a deep, deep debt of gratitude; and now let me pay it by -enduring that weight of suspicion against which I may haply bear up, -but which would crush and overwhelm you. For never, never can I forget -that when I appeared, full of terror and trembling, with the spoilt -dress in your mother’s presence, your looks gave me encouragement, and -your kind words reassured me. Then, when I was leaving your dwelling -without the means of even procuring a loaf for my dear little brother -and myself, you put gold into my hand. Oh! dear lady, these are -manifestations of generosity which never can be forgotten; and, noble -as you are by name, you are nobler in heart. It will be my joy--my -pride to screen _you_, who have proved so kind a friend to me; and -there is no sacrifice that I am unprepared to make in order to save you -from unhappiness and shame!’--‘It is an angel that speaks!’ murmured -Lady Caroline, overpowered by this generosity on the part of Julia -Murray. ‘But nothing, nothing,’ she continued, with reviving energy, -and after a few moments’ pause, ‘shall induce me to yield to your -desire. I recognise all that is great and noble in your conduct; and -so long as I remain possessed of intellect and memory, I shall pray -night and morning for the Almighty to bless you, my dearest Julia. I -have been frail, and I must bear the consequences. Seek not to wean -me from this intention: I should never know a happy moment, were I -to permit _you_ to become the victim of _my_ shame!’[9]--‘One word!’ -exclaimed Miss Murray, after a minute’s profound reflection: ‘I will no -longer urge you to act contrary to your heart’s dictates; but promise -me that you will not take a single step towards revealing every thing -to your brother and exculpating me, until four-and-twenty hours shall -have elapsed. During that interval we shall both have time for serious -and calm meditation; and no advantage will result from precipitate -haste.’--‘Yes; I make you this promise, Julia,’ returned Lady Caroline; -‘on the condition that when we meet again to-morrow evening, it shall -not be to argue whether I am to confess or not, but in what manner the -confession can be most suitably and safely made.’--‘Agreed!’ cried Miss -Murray: ‘and to-morrow evening, at seven o’clock, you will visit me -again?’--‘I will,’ answered Lady Caroline Jerningham; and she then took -her leave of her friend, whom she embraced with the warmth of the most -sincere affection. - -“On the following day, at about three o’clock in the afternoon, a -letter, addressed to Lady Caroline Jerningham, was delivered at the -mansion in Hanover Square by a porter, who hurried away the moment he -had placed it in the servant’s hands. The contents of this note ran -as follow:--‘_Dearest Caroline, it is useless for you to call this -evening at the house which I have occupied for so many months, and -which was purchased by your excellent brother’s money. I shall no -longer be the occupant of that house, when this note reaches you. My -mind is made up to endure every thing for your sake; and I therefore -this day withdraw myself, in company with Harry, into a retirement -and an obscurity whither you cannot follow me. It will therefore be -unnecessary and ridiculous--I may almost say_ wicked--_for you to make -any revelations to your brother. By sacrificing yourself, you would -confer no benefit upon me; as nothing shall induce me to alter the -plans I have formed respecting the future. Retain profoundly secret -all those circumstances the confession of which can have no useful -result; and think sometimes of me--for I shall often, often think -of you, my well-beloved friend,--although we may never, never meet -again!_’--This letter, on which were the traces of weeping, produced -a stupefying sensation on the part of Lady Caroline. Was it possible -that Julia, in the zeal of her ardent friendship, had outwitted the -fair patrician, and had won the generous game at which they were -playing? No wonder that Miss Murray had requested Caroline to suspend -all proceedings for twenty-four hours: in that time, the noble-hearted -girl had consummated the sacrifice of herself! And now nothing could -exceed the sincerity and the depth of that grief which seized upon -the lady: for an hour after she received the note, she was as one -demented; and her confidential maid experienced the utmost difficulty -in restraining her from manifestations of feeling which would have -excited the strangest suspicions in the household. At length, when she -had grown comparatively calm, Lady Caroline, attended by her maid, -repaired to Camden Town; but there they only beheld those appearances -which corroborated the statements contained in Julia’s letter. For -the house was shut up; and, on enquiry being made of a neighbour, it -was ascertained that Miss Murray, her servant, and her little brother -had taken their departure soon after mid-day, although, according to -the same authority, the young milliner was evidently suffering from -indisposition. The fair patrician’s last hope of seeing her friend and -weaning her from her intention, was thus destroyed; and the poignancy -of her grief was renewed. She proceeded to Mrs. Porter’s cottage, where -she learnt that Julia had called in the morning to assure herself of -the child’s convalescence and imprint upon its little countenance a -farewell kiss. This touching instance of Julia’s goodness of heart -moved Lady Caroline to tears; and she reproached herself bitterly for -having been the cause of all her friend’s present sorrows. - -“There, however, appeared to be a remedy which might yet be adopted; -and to this measure did the lady make up her mind. She resolved, in -fact, to write to her brother without delay, inform him of every -thing, and urge him to lose no time in discovering the retreat of -Julia, that justice--full and ample justice--might be done to her. -Accordingly, on the following morning she penned a long letter to the -Marquis of Wilmington, imploring him to forgive her for the dishonour -she had brought upon the family, and drawing such a picture of Julia’s -generosity in sacrificing herself for a friend, that she wept long and -plentifully over the pages as she perused them. When this epistle had -been despatched to the post, Caroline’s heart felt easier; and she said -to herself, ‘Even if my brother should wreak the bitterest vengeance -upon me, I can endure his resentment with resignation; for I now -have the consciousness of performing a sacred and solemn duty.’--The -Dowager-Marchioness, in the meantime, had been suffering through -indisposition which confined her much to her chamber; and she did not -therefore perceive any particular variations in the manner and aspect -of her daughter. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLIII. - -CONCLUSION OF THE HISTORY OF THE DRESS-MAKER: A LOVE STORY. - - -“Two days after Lady Caroline Jerningham’s letter had been sent, the -Marquis of Wilmington arrived in London; and, hastening to Hanover -Square, he obtained an immediate interview with his sister. Pale, -trembling, and unable to endure his glance, she awaited in torturing -suspense the first words that should issue from his lips; and never -was relief from agonising feelings more welcome or more complete, -than when the Marquis, taking his sister’s hand, said in a gentle -though mournful voice, ‘Caroline, I am not come to reproach you--much -less to add to your afflictions by the heartless cruelty and absurd -inutility of an exposure. No: I give you all my sympathy; and I thank -you most sincerely for having confessed every thing, that you might -restore your friend to my favour.’--Lady Caroline threw herself into -her brother’s arms, and wept upon his breast; but when the emotions -attendant upon this meeting had somewhat subsided, the Marquis said, -‘Heaven be thanked that Julia is innocent! Deeply, deeply as I deplore -the sad circumstances involved in your revelation, Caroline, yet it -is a relief to know that she--that poor, suffering, wrongly suspected -girl--is worthy of all my love! And if I before loved her--if I -before esteemed and admired her as the pattern of every thing great -and noble, generous and amiable in Woman,--Oh! now what strength have -those sentiments acquired! No time must be lost in finding her out; -and this moment shall I enter upon the search.’--The Marquis then -took a hasty leave of his sister, and in the first instance repaired -to Mr. Richardson to consult him upon the subject. Without in any way -compromising his sister, the Marquis related enough to let the worthy -lawyer know that Julia had been unjustly suspected--that her innocence -was completely established, and that he now longed to find out her -retreat, with the view to make her the fullest possible reparation. -Mr. Richardson then stated that three days previously a porter had -called on him, bringing the key of the house at Camden Town, with -an intimation that Miss Murray surrendered up the tenement to its -proprietor, with all the furniture it contained,--in fact, in the same -condition as when the property was made over to her. A tear stole into -the eye of the Marquis, as he received this proof of Julia’s strict -integrity; and Mr. Richardson advised that an advertisement, drawn -up in a manner calculated to strike Miss Murray’s comprehension, but -ambiguous to the public generally, should be kept standing in the -_Times_ and other widely circulated newspapers until her retreat should -have been discovered. The Marquis approved of this plan; and, leaving -his solicitor to execute it, he departed from the office to pursue -his search elsewhere. He now proceeded to Camden Town, and (having -the key with him) entered the house; but delicacy forbade him to -penetrate into any other rooms save the parlours; and there he found -not a letter nor a scrap of paper that might afford any clue to the -place whither Julia had retired. His heart was heavy--his grief was -profound; and frequent sighs rent his manly breast as he repaired to -the cottage where the child--his sister’s child--dwelt under the care -of Mrs. Porter. His strange manner on his previous visit did not obtain -for him a very welcome reception at the hands of that female; but -when she found that he spoke kindly and inquired anxiously concerning -the infant, her reserve began to dissipate, and she at last thought -him a very agreeable gentleman. The child was brought to him, and he -kissed it affectionately. An allusion which Mrs. Porter happened to -make to Miss Murray, enabled the Marquis to turn the conversation upon -that loved being who seemed lost to him; and now he heard the warmest -and sincerest praises uttered in regard to her; but not a syllable -affording a trace of her present abode. In fact, it was very evident -that Mrs. Porter was as ignorant as himself in that respect; and still -was it with a heavy heart that the nobleman turned away to prosecute -his search elsewhere. - -“He had learnt from his sister that Julia, her little brother, and the -old housekeeper had taken their departure together in a hackney-coach; -and he concluded that the vehicle was hired from some stand in the -neighbourhood. Behold, then, this rich and well-born peer visiting all -the stations of cabs and coaches in the vicinity, and pursuing his -enquiries amongst a class of men whom his liberality alone succeeded -in divesting of their habitual insolence. But still all his endeavours -to solve the painful mystery were fruitless; and, after a weary day’s -researches, he returned home, exhausted in physical energy and worn -down by mental depression, to his magnificent house in Belgrave Square. -His reliance was now in the advertisements which were to be inserted -in the newspapers; but even this hope was almost stifled within him -by the reminiscence that Julia seldom read the public journals. Day -after day passed--weeks glided by--these had swollen into months in -the lapse of time--and winter returned;--but still no trace of Julia! -In the interval, matters of importance had occurred in respect to Lady -Caroline Jerningham. The child had died in a fit of convulsions, to -which it was subject, and in spite of the tender care of Mrs. Porter -and the attentions of the medical man: the remains of the infant were -interred in the churchyard of Old Saint Pancras; and the Porters, who -were well rewarded for their kindness to the child from the moment -of its birth until that of its death, still remain in ignorance of -the real name and the rank of its mother. Not many weeks after the -removal from this earthly sphere of the evidence of Lady Caroline’s -frailty, Lord Hartley returned home from abroad; and his first act, -on arriving in London, was to hasten to Hanover Square. His heart had -remained constant to Lady Caroline; and he now boldly claimed her hand -of the Marchioness, who received him most graciously, there being, in -the Dowager’s eyes, a vast deal of difference between the noble and -wealthy Baron Hartley of Hartley, and the poor Lieutenant Quentin of -His Majesty’s Ship _The Tremendous_. The _Morning Post_ accordingly -announced the ‘approaching marriage in high life;’ and the ceremony -took place in November, 1835,--precisely one year after the date of the -commencement of our tale. - -“Thus Lady Caroline Jerningham became Lady Hartley: she was united to -the object of her affection;--but her happiness was not complete. Every -day--every hour did she think of poor Julia Murray; and her husband, to -whom she had confided every thing, shared in her deep anxiety to obtain -a clue to that excellent young woman. The Marquis of Wilmington had -put into execution every means which human ingenuity could devise to -procure that clue: but all to no effect; and he now gave himself up to -despair. His health began to fail him; and his appearance speedily grew -much altered. Vainly did his sister endeavour to console him: she also -required solace, and almost in respect to the same cause,--for if the -one mourned the loss of an intended bride, the other deplored that of a -dear friend! - -“I said that the incident of my tale had brought me down to the month -of November, 1835; and it now becomes necessary to make some mention -of Julia Murray. It was a night of pouring rain and gushing wind, as -on that when she first encountered the Marquis of Wilmington; and the -unhappy young woman was seated in a miserable garret in some street -near Covent Garden Market. The cheerless chamber was almost completely -denuded of furniture; and the little that was in it, belonged not to -her. Not a spark of fire appeared in the hearth;--the cupboard door -was opened, but no food was seen on the shelves;--and the candle that -shed a fitful light around the bare, damp walls, was every moment in -danger of being extinguished by the cold draught from the ill-closed -window. Leaning her head upon her hand, and her elbow on the table, -Julia sate, gazing down on the upturned countenance of her brother -who occupied a stool at her feet. Pale and wan were their faces: gone -was the bloom of health from the cheeks of the once happy, beauteous -boy,--gone, too, was the delicate tinge of carnation that had been -wont to enhance the loveliness of his sister. Misery was in that -garret--misery for _two_--misery for that almost heart-broken young -woman and that affectionate, grateful boy. The want of needle-work and -illness had plunged Julia into the direst poverty: she could have borne -it all had she been by herself--borne it almost without repining;--but -when she looked on the pale face of her little brother, saw that he -was famishing for want, and knew also that he endeavoured to conceal -his hunger from her for fear of increasing _her_ grief,--oh! it was -this--it was _this_ that crushed and overwhelmed her! She glanced -around: there was not an article of clothing that could be now spared -to pledge, save her scanty shawl--and then how could she go abroad -to ask for needlework without it? Heavens! twelve hours had the boy -already fasted--twenty-four hours had elapsed since Julia had tasted -a morsel of food;--for she had almost forced the last crust into his -mouth! And now how many hours more must elapse ere a chance might -present itself to afford them a meal? And if no work could be obtained, -what were they to do? What, indeed! - -“In the midst of all these bitter--harrowing reflections, a thought--or -rather a reminiscence flashed to Julia’s mind;--but it was only to -plunge her more deeply into the abyss of woe, and not to solace -her. Just one year had elapsed since she had first met the Marquis -of Wilmington,--just one year, day for day: and through how many -vicissitudes had she and her darling brother passed in that period! -They had known prosperity and happiness: they had also experienced -the bitterest misery, and yet they had not deserved the vengeance -of heaven: but, then, those whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth! -Still pure and guileless--still innocent and artless, Julia Murray’s -principles had remained unshaken by the rude contest which she had -been compelled to endure with the world’s ills; and her brother was -still the same affectionate, good, endearing boy as when I first -introduced you to him. Oh! it was cruel--it was cruel that _they_ -should suffer thus--those poor orphans who had never injured a living -soul, who clung to each other so tenderly, and who night and morning -put up their prayers to the Almighty that He would be pleased to change -their wretched, wretched lot. But, alas! those supplications--so -sincere, so earnest, so respectful and adoring towards the Majesty of -Heaven--remained apparently unheard; and on the particular night to -which allusion has been made, do we find that sister and brother on the -verge of perishing through sheer destitution! - -“‘Harry,’ said Julia, after a long pause, ‘are you not very -hungry?’--‘Not very, dear sister,’ he returned, while tears started -into his eyes.--‘Oh! my darling boy, you are starving!’ she cried -frantically, as she strained him to her breast: then, growing more -composed, she said, ‘But this must not be! Here, Harry, take this -shawl over to that shop which you see opposite, give it to any one -whom you may see behind the counter, and you will receive some money -and a small card in exchange. Then go to the baker’s and buy a loaf; -and return as quickly as you can.’--The boy hesitated; and at length -said, ‘But, Julia dear, what will you do without your shawl? You -cannot go out.’--‘And you cannot starve,’ she returned hastily; as -she almost thrust him, but not harshly, out of the room. Then, when -the door closed behind him, she reseated herself, and burst into an -agony of tears. It was the first time she had ever sent Harry to the -pawnbroker--the first time she had ever allowed him to go out into the -streets alone after dusk. And this was not all that pained her: Oh! -she was oppressed with the most direful apprehensions--for now she was -indeed a prisoner in that wretched garret--she could not go out to seek -for work, and work would not be brought to her. And again, and again, -and again--for the thousandth time that day--did she ask herself what -was to be done, and what was to become of them? While she was wrapt -up in these harrowing reflections, she heard certain well-known--too -well-known steps ascending the stairs; and now she felt that even the -crushing amount of misery which already weighed upon her, was not -complete. The door was thrown open; and a stout, elderly, red-faced -woman, who had evidently been drinking, walked unceremoniously into the -chamber. ‘Now, Miss,’ she cried, almost ferociously, ‘are you going -to pay me the three weeks’ rent that’s due? If not, be so kind as to -tramp, and make room for them as will pay; ‘cos I’ve a respectable -married couple which is ready to take the place this very night.’--‘If -you will wait a few minutes,’ answered Julia, in a faint tone, ‘I will -pay you as much as I can.’--‘Come, that won’t do for me,’ vociferated -the woman: ‘I see your brother go out with your shawl, and I know -what’s what. But if you’re obliged to spout your things to pay a trifle -this week, how will you be able to pay any at all next Saturday, much -less cash up altogether?’--‘Heavens! have patience, my dear madam, and -I will endeavour to pay you all, as soon as possible!’ said the poor -young woman, reduced to despair.--‘Patience, indeed!’ repeated the -landlady, contemptuously: ‘and who will have patience with me? There -is the Taxes will call on Monday morning; and the Water Rate has been -put off till he’s tired of coming near the place. So I can’t and won’t -wait no longer for such a beggar as you.’--At this goading insolence -Julia’s grief redoubled.--‘Oh! crying won’t pay no bills,’ ejaculated -the inhuman landlady. ‘And now I think on it, I’ll just look at the -bed-clothes and see that you haven’t pawned none of the blankets!’--‘I -would sooner starve--aye, and see my brother perish through want also, -than commit such an act!’ cried Julia, starting to her feet, while her -indignation actually tended to mitigate the acuteness of her grief. -‘Well, I ’spose you’re honest,’ said the woman, somewhat ashamed of -herself: ‘but I must have my money to-night all the same; if not, you -and your brother had better turn out at once.’--‘I repeat that it is -impossible for me to pay you all I owe this evening,’ exclaimed poor -Julia, now condescending to the adoption of a tone of appeal; ‘and -I implore you not to drive me and that dear boy homeless into the -streets.’--‘A pretty gal like you need never want money,’ said the -woman, fixing a meaning look upon the unhappy dress-maker; ‘and if -you would only take my advice----.’--‘Begone,’ cried Julia in a voice -so penetrating that it seemed to thrill through the brain of the vile -wretch who was about to develope the most infamous resources to the -view of that pure-minded girl--‘Begone, indeed!’ repeated the woman, -recovering her insolence: ‘that’s a pretty thing to say to me, that -you owe money to. However, once more I tell you that I _will_ be paid -to-night; or else, when my husband comes home from the public-house, -off you’ll bundle!’--Thus speaking, the wretch bounced out of the room, -leaving the door wide open behind her. - -“Julia wrung her hands in despair; and again she asked herself those -unanswerable questions--What would become of them? and what was to -be done? At this moment, when her brain appeared to reel and reason -was rocking on its throne, the sounds of hasty steps ascending the -stairs met her ear, and she heard Harry’s voice exclaim, ‘Up higher -still--to the very top!’ And up those hasty footsteps came:--good -heavens! were fresh miseries in store for her? But scarcely had this -thought traversed poor Julia’s imagination, when some one darted -into the room--and as she was sinking on the floor, through terror, -want, and exhaustion, she was received in the arms of the Marquis -of Wilmington!--‘Julia, dearest Julia!’ he cried, in an impassioned -tone, as he strained the insensible form of his beloved one to his -breast: and that voice, sounding on her ear as if heard in the midst -of a dream, recalled her to herself;--and opening her eyes slowly, -she encountered the tender looks that were bent upon her.--‘Is it -possible!’ she exclaimed, tearing herself from the nobleman’s embrace: -‘your lordship here?’--‘Yes: here to implore your pardon for the past; -to declare to you how profound is the regret and how bitter the remorse -I have experienced for the unfeeling haste with which I judged you -on the barest suspicion; and to offer you my hand, Julia,’ added the -Marquis, ‘if you will now condescend to accept it!’--But I need not -pause to describe in detail the discourse which now ensued: suffice it -to say that the nobleman gave the fullest explanation of all that had -occurred since he had last seen Julia--how his sister had confessed her -frailty, and thus cleared up the suspicion which had so unfortunately -fallen upon Julia--how the child had died--how Lady Caroline had -married Lord Hartley--and how every possible search had been made for -so many long, weary months, after Miss Murray. It must be added that -the Marquis, in his almost ceaseless wanderings about the metropolis in -the prosecution of that search, happened on this memorable evening to -pass through the very neighbourhood where Julia resided; and as Harry -emerged from the pawnbroker’s shop, the light flashed full upon the -little fellow’s countenance, which, in spite of its altered appearance, -was immediately recognised by the Marquis. - -“But little more remains to be told. A messenger was instantly -despatched to Hartley House with a note from Lord Wilmington; and in -less than an hour his sister Caroline, accompanied by her faithful -lady’s maid, who had charge of a box full of clothes, arrived in her -carriage at the door of the house where Julia occupied the miserable -garret! Affecting indeed was the meeting between the two friends; and -while the Marquis took Harry away with him to the nearest ready-made -clothes’ shop to equip the boy from head to foot in new apparel, Lady -Hartley hastily made such a change in Julia’s appearance, by means -of the contents of the box before alluded to, that when his lordship -returned he was charmed to see that, though pale, she was still -eminently beautiful. In the meantime the rumour had spread throughout -the house how a great nobleman and a great lady had come to take the -poor dress-maker away in their carriage; and now the vile woman who -only an hour before had menaced Julia with ejectment--who had insulted -her by offering to search the few miserable things in the room to see -if any had been made away with--and who had hinted at an infamous -proposal from which the young creature’s soul recoiled in horror and -loathing,--that same detestable wretch was now most assiduous in -offering the use of her parlour and rendering herself so officiously -busy, that Lady Hartley was forced to order her in a peremptory manner -to retire. In fine, all necessary preparations being made so that -Julia and her brother might appear in a becoming way at the splendid -mansion whither they were now about to repair, the happy party entered -the carriage, which drove straight to Hartley House, where Caroline’s -husband received Julia and Harry in the kindest possible manner. - -“Thus was the aspect of affairs signally changed; and from the cold, -cheerless garret, where want stared them in the face, were the sister -and brother suddenly wafted into the very bosom of luxury, comfort, -and happiness. Virtue met with its reward, after the many trials to -which it had been subjected, and the numerous temptations it had -triumphantly passed through. Mr. Richardson, the lawyer, was overjoyed -when the Marquis called upon him next morning and related all that had -happened; and the instant his lordship had taken his departure, the -worthy solicitor hastened to Hanover Square, resolved, if possible, to -accomplish a certain project which he had in view. Presenting himself -to the Dowager-Marchioness, he argued with her upon the inutility and -injustice, the folly and the cruelty of her opposition to an alliance -which so nearly regarded her son’s happiness; and he dilated so warmly -upon the good qualities of Julia Murray, that her ladyship, who had -at first heard him with impatience, began to listen attentively. In a -word, Mr. Richardson succeeded in persuading the Marchioness to have -the credit of assenting to an union which she had not the power to -prevent; and the policy of this step at last triumphed over her other -repugnances. She accordingly rang the bell, ordered the carriage, -and proceeded with the lawyer to Hartley House, where her presence -augmented the happiness already experienced beneath that roof. Thus -nothing was now wanting to complete the felicity of all those in whom, -I hope, you are interested; and it was astonishing how speedily the -bloom came back to the countenance of Julia, and the ruddy hues of -health to the cheeks of little Harry. - -“Six weeks after the discovery of the orphans in their wretched garret, -Julia became the Marchioness of Wilmington. Happy--happy was that -bridal, and beautiful was the blushing bride--so beautiful that a -stranger would not have suspected the privations and miseries which she -had undergone. And, as if heaven, in its justice, were determined to -afford a signal proof that though it can chasten, it can also reward -as fully--from the day that this union took place, Julia and her -brother have not known a care. Possessing the power to do good, the -Marchioness of Wilmington has been enabled to soothe many an afflicted -heart; and her experience of the past has taught her that the severest -misery is that which pines unseen and hides itself in garrets--not -that which obtrudes itself, in the shape of mendicity, upon the public -eye. Her _secret charities_ are therefore boundless; and the elevation -of such a woman to rank and the possession of immense wealth, has -proved beneficial to thousands. I must not forget to observe that the -housekeeper who had accompanied her on her departure from Camden Town, -and who had subsequently returned home, at Julia’s request, to her -friends, once more became an attendant in the household of the mistress -whom she loved; and every one who had in any way shown kindness to my -heroine when she was but the humble dress-maker, was sought out and -liberally rewarded, by her whose heart had undergone no change although -she had become the Marchioness of Wilmington.” - - - - -CHAPTER CXLIV. - -DOVER. - - -It must not be supposed that this long tale was related without an -interval of rest. When it broke off at the end of the hundred and -forty-second chapter, the travellers were just on the point of entering -Rochester, where they lunched; and, after this brief halt, they pursued -their journey, Charles resuming the thread of his narrative, to which -Perdita listened with deep interest. - -The young woman experienced an ineffable pleasure in drinking in with -her ears the rich tones of her lover’s voice; and the pathetic nature -of his story increased the tenderness which she felt for him. She, who -had defied the influence of the blind deity, was wounded by his shaft; -and the more she saw of Charles Hatfield, the less selfish became her -passion--the more sincere her attachment. - -Mrs. Fitzhardinge read, with a keen eye, all that was passing in -her daughter’s mind; and there were moments when she could scarcely -restrain her rage at the idea that Perdita had succeeded so skilfully -in throwing her into the back-ground. But the old woman resolved to -abide her time--in the hope that circumstances might yet enable her -to resume her sway, and compel the enamoured couple to bend to the -dictates of her will. - -The journey was pursued in safety, and in freedom from any unpleasant -interruption, until the post-chaise entered the town of Dover. Then the -travellers were to pass the night; and thence they were to embark on -the ensuing morning for Calais. - -They took up their quarters at an hotel, where an excellent dinner -was provided; and in the evening Charles Hatfield and Perdita rambled -together upon the beach, Mrs. Fitzhardinge remaining at the inn on the -plea of fatigue, but in reality because her daughter made her a private -sign to intimate that her company was not needed. - -It was a summer evening of surpassing loveliness: the sea was calm and -tranquil in its mighty bed, agitated only at its margin when wavelets, -so small that they might almost be denominated ripples, murmured on the -beach;--and the western horizon was gorgeous with purple, and orange, -and gold--the swathing robes of the setting sun. - -There were many ladies and gentlemen walking on the Marine Parade, and -enjoying the freshness of the air after the oppressive heat of the -sultry day. Amongst the loungers, several officers belonging to the -garrison were conspicuous by their scarlet coats; and giddy, silly -young ladies of sixteen or seventeen felt themselves supremely happy if -they could only secure the attentions of these military _beaux_. - -Here and there were long seats, painted green, and occupied by -ladies, their male companions standing in lounging attitudes; and the -conversation that occupied these groups was for the most part of a -frivolous nature,--for people at watering places only seek to kill -time, and not to use it for intellectual purposes. - -On one of the benches just alluded to, was placed a middle-aged mamma -with her three marriageable daughters, who were pretty, chatty, -agreeable girls, according to the general meaning of the epithets: -at all events, whenever Mrs. Matson appeared on the Parade with the -three Misses Matson, the officers were sure to steal away from other -groups or parties in order to join the new-comers--to the immense -gratification of the objects of this preference, and to the huge -mortification of the Jones’s, the Smiths, the Jenkins, the Greens, and -the Browns. - -“Were you at Lady Noakes’s last evening, Captain Phinnikin?” enquired -the eldest Miss Matson of a gallant officer of some four or five and -twenty, who was lounging near her. - -“No--not I, faith!” was the reply given in a drawling tone, as if the -gallant officer aforesaid were a martyr to that dreadful malady termed -_ennui_. “Lady Noakes’s parties are such slow affairs--I have quite -abjured them. Besides,” he added, suddenly recollecting that this -was an excellent opportunity to throw in a compliment, “I knew _you_ -weren’t to be there.” - -“Oh! dear, no!” exclaimed Miss Julia Matson--the second of the -marriageable sisters: “one does meet such strange people at her -ladyship’s, that we really could not think of accepting the invitation.” - -“Well, but you must recollect, my dear,” observed Mrs. Matson, in a -tone which seemed to be of mild reproof, “that poor dear Lady Noakes -is only the widow of a brewer who was mayor of Deal or Sandwich, I -forget which, and was knighted by William the Fourth for taking up some -address to his Majesty.” - -“That’s all!” said Miss Anna-Maria Matson, the third sister: “and -therefore I am sure no one need be surprised that Lady Noakes is glad -to fill her rooms with any body she can get.” - -“Well, I was there last night,” observed another young officer--a -lieutenant in the same regiment with Captain Phinnikin, and who formed -one of the group at present occupying our attention: “and I must say -that the supper was excellent.” - -“Oh! but, Mr. Pink,” exclaimed the eldest Miss Matson, reproachfully, -“it is so very easy to give a good supper--but not so easy to make the -evening agreeable.” - -“Granted!” rejoined the lieutenant: “and I must candidly admit that no -parties are so agreeable as those at your house.” - -“Flatterer!” cried Miss Matson, with a sweet smile. “I suppose the -Browns were at her ladyship’s last night.” - -“Oh! certainly. You meet them every where.” - -“And, faith! Miss Amelia Brown is a deuced pleasant girl--deuced -pleasant,” observed Captain Phinnikin. - -“Well, I really never could see any thing particular in her,” said the -eldest Miss Matson. “Besides--you know what her grandfather is?” she -added, sinking her voice to a confidential tone, and hastily glancing -around to assure herself that the object of her remark was not nigh -enough to overhear her. - -“’Pon my honour, I never heard!” responded Captain Phinnikin. - -“They _do_ say--but mind, I will not assert it on my own authority,” -continued Miss Matson,--“at the same time, I believe it is pretty well -ascertained----” - -“Oh! certainly--beyond all doubt,” exclaimed Miss Julia, tossing her -head contemptuously. - -[Illustration] - -“_I_ never heard it contradicted!” added Miss Anna-Maria. - -“What do they say the grandfather is?” demanded Captain Phinnikin. - -Again did Miss Matson look anxiously around: then, lowering her voice -to a whisper, and assuming as mysterious an air as possible, she said, -“A hatter!” - -“Oh! you naughty, gossiping girls!” cried Mrs. Matson, shaking her -head with an affected deprecation of her daughters’ scandal-loving -propensities, but in reality enjoying the tittle-tattle. - -“Well, ma,” said Miss Julia, “I am sure there is no harm in telling the -truth; and I thought that every one knew what Miss Brown’s grandfather -was--just the same as it’s no secret about the Greens being related to -a soap-boiler.” - -“Hush! my dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Matson, putting her finger to her lip: -“we really must not pull people to pieces in this way. At the same time -I candidly confess that it _is_ annoying to find so many low persons -at the very watering-place which we chose for the summer. I don’t wish -to be severe upon any body; but if Mr. Thompson, who is known to be a -retired draper, _will_ allow people to address their letters to him as -_Thomas Thompson, Esquire_, he must expect to be talked about.” - -“And then those Miss Thompsons who give themselves such airs!” cried -the eldest Miss Matson, with an indignant gesture. - -“I am sure they made quite frights of themselves last Sunday at -church,” added Miss Julia, “with their dresses after the latest -Parisian fashion!” - -“Besides, pink bonnets don’t at all become their dark complexions,” -observed Miss Anna-Maria. - -“Ladies must have very good complexions indeed, for pink bonnets to -suit them,” drawled forth Captain Phinnikin, smiling languidly at the -same time;--for the three Misses Matson all wore bonnets of a roseate -hue--a fact which they _appeared_ to have entirely forgotten while -speaking of the Misses Thompson. - -At this moment, Lieutenant Pink uttered an ejaculation of surprise; -and the rest of the group, turning their eyes in the same direction in -which his were bent, beheld a very handsome young gentleman to whose -arm hung a young lady of marvellous beauty. - -“They are strangers here,” observed Miss Matson the elder. - -“New-comers,” continued Miss Julia. - -“But nothing very particular, I dare say,” added Miss Anna-Maria. - -And having thus expressed themselves, the three sisters turned towards -the officers; but they were much piqued and annoyed to find that those -two gallant gentlemen were still surveying the attractive couple with -the deepest interest. - -“That face is familiar to me, Pink,” cried Captain Phinnikin. - -“And to me also. But where I have seen it before, I cannot recollect,” -observed the lieutenant. “Upon my soul, she is a magnificent woman!” - -“A splendid creature!” ejaculated the captain, forgetting his -habitual drawl for a moment. “Faith! I remember----and yet--no--it is -impossible!” - -“Yes--it _is_ impossible--it _cannot_ be!” cried Mr. Pink, as if -divining and echoing the other’s thoughts. “But I am sure I have seen -her before! And will you believe me, Phinnikin, when I assure you that, -at the first glance, I thought----” - -“Egad! it is her profile--her figure!” cried the captain, pursuing -the train of his own thoughts, as his eyes followed the young couple -who were passing leisurely along at a little distance, and quite -unconscious of the interest that one of them at least was creating. - -“Well--it strikes me that it is the same!” observed the lieutenant, his -amazement every moment becoming greater, and his uncertainty less. - -“Who do you take her to be?” demanded Phinnikin, turning abruptly -towards his brother-officer. - -“Perdita,” responded the lieutenant, without hesitation. - -“And yet--in England--so changed too, in circumstances--and in company -with that genteel young fellow----” - -“All those things occurred to me likewise,” interrupted Mr. Pink. - -“Let us convince ourselves!” cried the captain; and the military -gentlemen, with a somewhat abrupt and unceremonious bow to the Matson -family, walked away together, arm-in-arm. - -“Well, I never!” exclaimed the eldest Miss Matson, now tossing her head -more indignantly than on any previous occasion, yet looking wistfully -after the two really handsome and elegant, though conceited and -coxcombical young officers, whose fine figures were rapidly receding -along the parade. - -“I could not have supposed that Captain Phinnikin would have been -guilty of such rudeness!” said Miss Julia. - -“Oh! as for the captain--I was prepared for any thing with _him_,” -observed Miss Anna-Maria: “but it’s Mr. Pink that _I’m_ astonished at!” - -“I am sure the captain is the best behaved of the two,” exclaimed Julia. - -“That shows your ignorance, Miss,” said Anna-Maria, tartly. - -“I know what’s genteel as well as you, I should hope,” retorted Julia. - -“Don’t be cross, my love,” said Anna-Maria, affecting a soothing tone. - -“And don’t you pretend to know better than one two years older than -yourself,” cried Julia. “As for _you_,” she continued, addressing -herself to her eldest sister, “I was quite surprised to hear how you -went on about the Browns and the Thompsons. How foolish we should all -look if it were found out that Uncle Ben was a pawnbroker in Lambeth -Marsh----” - -“Hush! girls--hush! Drat your tongues--how they are going!” interrupted -Mrs. Matson, in a hoarse and hasty whisper. - -“I am sure, ma, Julia talked as much about the Browns and the Thompsons -as I did,” said the eldest daughter; “and now she is trying to quarrel -with me about it. But here come the Thompsons,” she added abruptly, as -her eyes wandered along the parade. - -Mrs. Matson and the three young ladies all smoothed their countenances -in a moment; and nothing could be more amiable, affable, or charming -than the manner in which they rose simultaneously to greet the Misses -Thompson--two tall, handsome, well-dressed, and really most genteel -girls, let their father have been what he might. - -“Oh! my dear Miss Thompson,” cried the eldest Miss Matson, “I am so -delighted to see you! How well you are looking, to be sure!” - -“We were talking about you only a few minutes ago, to Captain Phinnikin -and Mr. Pink,” said Julia; “and we were admiring those dears of bonnets -that you wore last Sunday at church.” - -“I am glad you liked them,” responded the elder Miss Thompson. “But how -happened it that you were not at Lady Noakes’s last night?” - -“Well--we don’t mind telling you, dear,” said Miss Matson the elder: -“the truth is that we were not invited; and I suppose it must have been -an oversight of her ladyship.” - -“Her ladyship was quite surprised that you were not present,” returned -Miss Thompson: “she assured me that a card had been duly forwarded to -you.” - -“Oh! how provoking!” cried all three Misses Matson at the same moment, -and as it were in the same breath. “The invitation must have miscarried -somehow or another. We would not have been absent for the world if we -had received the card.” - -“But, my dear Miss Thompson,” continued the eldest Miss Matson, “as -you and your dear sister are so intimate with Lady Noakes, perhaps you -would just hint that the invitation did miscarry----” - -“Oh! certainly,” replied the good-natured young lady thus appealed to. -“But we must say good bye now--for we promised papa not to stay out -late, and it is already near eight o’clock.” - -“How is that dear good soul, Mr. Thompson?” asked Mrs. Matson. “I was -speaking of him to Captain Phinnikin and Mr. Pink just now, and saying -what great respect we all entertained for him.” - -“Thank you, my dear madam--papa is quite well,” returned Miss Thompson. -“But we must really say good bye, for we expect the Greens to drop into -supper presently----” - -“Delightful girls, the Miss Greens!” exclaimed Mrs. Matson; “and very -well connected, I have heard.” - -“Oh! certainly--their uncle is a Member of Parliament,” responded Miss -Thompson. “But good bye.” - -“Good bye,” repeated her sister; and away they went--happy, joyous, -kind-hearted, and good girls, who would not have suffered their tongues -to utter a word of scandal,--thus proving a striking contrast with the -Matson family. - -“What a vulgar buoyancy of spirits the eldest Miss Thompson always -has!” exclaimed the senior of the three sisters, after a pause. “I -really can scarcely seem commonly polite to her.” - -“And the youngest is just like her in that respect,” observed Julia. - -“They are the rudest and worst-behaved girls in Dover, except the Miss -Greens,” added Mrs. Matson. - -“Well,” said Anna-Maria, “since I have heard that the Greens are -related to a Member of Parliament, I don’t fancy them to be so vulgar -as I used to do. Oh! what a thing it would be to get acquainted with a -Member, and have him at our parties next winter! Wouldn’t the Snipsons -be in a way?” - -“And the Styles’s!” added Julia. - -“Yes--and the Tubleys, who are so proud of their Irish Member!” -exclaimed the eldest Miss Matson. “Oh! ma, let us make up to the -Greens and get as friendly with them as possible; so that we may be on -visiting terms with them when we go back to London--and then we shall -be introduced to their uncle, the Member.” - -“By all means,” said Mrs. Matson, charmed with the suggestion. “I will -persuade your papa to allow us to give a party next week, on purpose -for the Greens.” - -In the meantime Captain Phinnikin and Mr. Pink had proceeded somewhat -rapidly along the Marine Parade, until they had reached the extremity, -when they turned, and walked more slowly, so as to meet Charles -Hatfield and Perdita. - -“To-morrow, at this time,” said the infatuated young man, as the syren -leant confidingly upon his arm, “we shall be far on our road to Paris: -and within three days from this moment, my beloved one, you will be -mine! Oh! I believe firmly that we were intended for each other--and -therefore happiness awaits us!” - -“To be with you, Charles, is happiness indeed,” returned Perdita, with -that melting softness of tone which gave her words so exquisite a -charm, and made every chord in her lover’s heart thrill with rapture: -then, casting upon him a sweet glance which drank in his own, she said, -“I am rejoiced that we have taken this decided step--for in London, I -was so fearful that your relatives might adopt means to separate you -from me!” - -“No--that could not be, dearest Perdita,” he observed: “for I am of an -age at which no parental despotism could be legally enforced; and I -have acquainted you with every thing that has already passed between -my father and myself. Were I a weak-minded boy, I should perhaps have -yielded to his threats or to my mother’s entreaties: but I have chosen -to act for myself and on my own responsibility--and I do not repent the -decision.” - -“And never--never shall you repent, my beloved Charles,” murmured -Perdita, with no affectation of feeling, but under the influence of -that passionate tenderness which she in reality experienced towards the -young man. “And, oh! how delightful is it to be your companion in such -a delicious evening walk as this--by the scarcely rippling sea--and at -the hour when the sun is sinking to its ocean-bed!” - -“Yes;--and while with you, my Perdita,” responded Charles, “I seem to -feel as if we two were alone together--sole witnesses of the scene! I -observe not the other loungers: I see only my Perdita--hear only her -voice!” - -At this moment his fair companion, to whom he was addressing those -words of heart-felt tenderness, appeared to start violently; for his -arm to which she clung was suddenly jerked by her hand with some degree -of force. Charles instinctively raised his head, which had been bent -partially towards her ear; and glancing straight before him, he beheld -two officers staring most rudely, as he thought, at his well-beloved -and beauteous Perdita. - -“What means this insolence?” he exclaimed, in a tone of irritation. - -“Let us turn back, Charles--dearest Charles” murmured Perdita, in a -faint and tremulous tone; and she wheeled him round, as it were, with -extraordinary alacrity. - -A load burst of laughter on the part of the officers met their ears; -and Charles, uttering an ejaculation of rage, was about to relinquish -his fair companion’s arm and rush back to demand an explanation, when -Perdita said, “In the name of heaven, molest them not--I implore you!” - -And she hurried him away. - -“My God! Perdita,” he said, when they were at some distance from the -spot where the officers had stopped short to gaze upon Perdita, and -where their complete recognition of her had betrayed them into an act -of rudeness which they almost immediately afterwards regretted--for -they felt that they had no right to insult the young woman by laughing -at her altered circumstances: “my God! Perdita,” said Charles, -labouring under a painful state of excitement; “what means this conduct -of those unmannerly fellows? and wherefore will you not permit me to -chastise them?” - -“Would you expose me to the ridicule of all the persons assembled on -the Parade?” demanded Perdita, who had now recovered her presence -of mind--at least sufficiently to feel the necessity of immediately -allaying her lover’s excitement. - -“But those officers insulted you--insulted you grossly, Perdita!” -cried Charles, who did not, however, entertain the remotest suspicion -prejudicial to the young woman, but merely felt deeply indignant at an -insolence which he could not understand, and which was so completely -unprovoked. - -“They insulted _us_--they insulted _you_ as well as myself, Charles,” -answered Perdita, hastily: “it was because you were bending, as it -were, over me while you spoke--because your head was approached so -close to my ear--and because I was listening with such unconcealed -delight to your tender words! They saw that we were lovers--that we -felt as if we were alone even amidst the crowd of loungers----” - -“Yes: it must have been as you say!” cried Charles, receiving Perdita’s -ingenious explanation as natural and conclusive, and now absolutely -wondering at his own stupidity in not penetrating the matter before. - -“You may conceive,” resumed the artful girl, “how ashamed and -bewildered I suddenly felt, when, on raising my eyes, I saw the two -officers standing still only a dozen yards in advance, and gazing upon -us in the rudest possible manner. I instantly understood the truth: -women, dear Charles, are sometimes more sharp-sighted than your sex. It -flashed to my mind that our manner had betrayed that we were lovers; -and hence my emotions! And can you wonder, my beloved Charles, if I -hurried you away from a scene where you incurred the chance of becoming -involved in a quarrel with those fire-eaters?” - -“In good truth, my Perdita,” said Hatfield, now smiling, “they seemed -to me--if I might judge by the short glimpse I had of them--to be -rather fitted for the drawing-room than to smell gunpowder.” - -“Oh! that may be,” exclaimed the young woman, her voice still -continuing tremulous and her manner imploring: “nevertheless, I would -not for the world that you should fall into danger! Consider, Charles, -how dreadful would be my feelings, were I to know that you were about -to fight a duel! Oh! my blood runs cold in my veins when I think of it! -But were you to fall in such hostile meeting----Ah! my God, what would -become of your unhappy, wretched Perdita?” - -“Dearest--sweetest girl!” cried the enraptured young man: “how blest am -I in the possession of such a love as thine!” - -And he gazed tenderly upon her as he spoke, pressing her arm at the -same time with his own: for now her countenance was flushed with the -emotions that agitated in her bosom; and, as the rays of the setting -sun played upon her face, she seemed lovely beyond all possibility of -description. - -They returned to the hotel; and, having partaken of supper, sought -their respective chambers at a somewhat early hour--for Mrs. -Fitzhardinge and Perdita complained of fatigue, and Charles knew that -the ensuing day’s travelling would prove even more wearisome still. - -The reader has seen how artfully the young woman contrived to find an -explanation for the untoward and menacing event which had occurred -upon the Marine Parade. The real truth was that while Charles was -pouring words of tenderness and love into the ears of Perdita, she -suddenly raised her eyes, and was horror-struck at beholding the -countenances--too well-known countenances--of Captain Phinnikin and -Lieutenant Pink. For their regiment had been stationed at Sydney; -and those two officers had enjoyed the favours of the beautiful and -voluptuous Perdita. She saw that she was recognised; and for a moment -the chances were equal whether she should sink beneath the blow, as if -struck by a thunder-bolt--or whether she should recover her presence -of mind. The latter alternative favoured her on this occasion; and her -sophistry, her demonstrations of tenderness, and the horror which she -expressed at the idea of a duel, succeeded in completely pacifying her -lover. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLV. - -A MYSTERIOUS OCCURRENCE.--THE JOURNEY CONTINUED. - - -Our travellers rose early in the morning; for the French mail steamer, -_Le Courier_, was to start for Calais at nine o’clock. - -Breakfast over, Charles Hatfield and Perdita walked down to the pier at -twenty minutes to nine--Mrs. Fitzhardinge, who was determined to make -herself as busy and also as necessary as possible, remaining behind to -see that the baggage was safely consigned to the porter in readiness to -convey it. - -The weather was delightful; and the fresh sea breeze, with its saline -flavour, seemed to waft invigorating influences upon its wing. Charles -and his beloved were in high spirits; although Perdita threw ever and -anon an anxious glance around, to assure herself that the dreaded -officers, who had caused her so much alarm on the preceding evening, -were not near to renew that terror. Every thing was satisfactory in -this respect; and never had the heart of the young woman been more -elate, than when she stepped upon the deck of the gallant steamer, -which was already puffing off its fleecy vapour with a snorting noise, -as if it were a steed impatient of delay. - -Seating themselves upon a bench, Charles and Perdita were soon absorbed -in a conversation of a tender nature; and, forgetful of every thing -save the topic of their discourse, they noticed not the lapse of time -until they happened to perceive the captain standing on one of the -paddle-boxes, and heard the orders which he gave to the busy French -sailors. - -These symptoms of immediate departure instantaneously aroused the -attention of Charles and Perdita to the fact that Mrs. Fitzhardinge had -not joined them. - -“Where is my mother?” demanded the latter, embracing with a rapid -glance the entire range of the deck, and unable to discover the object -of her search amongst the passengers scattered about the vessel. - -“Wait here one moment, dearest--and I will see,” said Charles; and he -hastened forward, thinking that perhaps the funnel might conceal the -old woman from their view. - -But she was not to be found; although a glance at the piles of baggage -in the immediate vicinity of the chimney showed him his companions’ -boxes, together with a portmanteau of necessaries which he had -purchased for himself on the preceding evening. - -Yes: there was the baggage--but where was Mrs. Fitzhardinge? - -What could have become of her? - -Perhaps she had descended to the cabin. - -This idea seemed probable; and Charles was about to hurry back to the -bench where he had left Perdita, when she joined him, saying, “I have -been into the cabin; and my mother is not there.” - -Before Charles had time to make any reply, a porter in his white frock -approached him, and, touching his hat, said, “Please, sir, are these -your things?”--pointing to the boxes. - -“Yes,” answered Hatfield: “but where is the lady who was giving you -instructions about them when we left the hotel?” - -“Please, sir, she came after me as far as the beginning of the pier,” -returned the porter; “and there, as I happened to look round, I saw -her speaking to two men. I went on--looked round again, and could see -nothing more of her.” - -“This is most extraordinary!” exclaimed Hatfield. - -“I cannot comprehend it,” observed Perdita: then, suddenly struck by -the idea that Charles might propose to land and search after the old -woman, she added hastily, “But we need not alarm ourselves: if any -thing has happened to detain my mother a short time, she will doubtless -follow us by the next boat.” - -At this moment the huge paddle-wheels began to turn--Charles hastily -tossed the porter half-a-crown--and the man leapt on the pier in -company with several others of his own calling,--while the steamer -moved away with stately steadiness of pace. - -Perdita and Charles Hatfield paced the deck, arm in arm, and conversing -on the unaccountable disappearance of Mrs. Fitzhardinge. The latter -could conjecture no possible key to the mystery: nor did Perdita offer -any suggestive clue--although she thought it probable that her mother, -having lost her despotic authority, had withdrawn, in a moment of -ill-temper, from the company of those whom she could not hope to reduce -to the condition of slaves. But the young woman said to herself, “She -will soon repent of her folly and rejoin us;”--while to Charles she -expressed an uneasiness and an apprehension lest any accident should -have befallen her mother. - -On sped the steamer: the harbour is cleared--and now she enters upon -the expanse of green water, over which she walks “like a thing of -life,”--the huge paddles raising a swell, which, covered with foam, -marks the pathway of the gallant vessel. - -On--on she went;--and now the white cliffs of Albion diminish and grow -dim in the distance,--while, still far ahead, the coast of France, like -a long brown streak in the horizon, appears in view! - -And, oh! may that green sea never waft a hostile navy from one shore -to the other;--may the peace which now subsists between the two -greatest nations in the universe, remain undisturbed! Let France and -England continue rivals,--not in the art of war,--but in the means -of developing every element of civilisation and progress. Such a -striving--such a race between the two, will be glorious indeed; and the -whole world will experience the benefit. - -Shame, then, to those alarmists who are now endeavouring to spread -terror and dismay throughout the British Islands, by their calculations -of the facility with which the French may invade us, and by their -predictions of the consequences of such an invasion. - -Well aware are we that were France to entertain the project, its -realization would be easy;--for with our navy dispersed over the world, -our coast-defences so few and far-between, and our totally insufficient -army, we have no means of resisting an invading force of eighty or a -hundred thousand men so admirably disciplined as the soldiers of France. - -But neither Louis-Philippe nor his Government entertains the remotest -idea of disturbing the peace of the world;--and it is madness--it in -wickedness on the part of the public journals and of pamphleteers to -write for the very purpose of creating an impression that an invasion -by the French is imminent. - -A terrible panic has been raised throughout the length and breadth -of the land;--and with sorrow do we record the fact that the DUKE OF -WELLINGTON has placed himself at the head of the alarmists! - -To consummate the folly, all that is now required is--what? - -_To give Prince Albert the command of the Army!_ - -----Or rather, O Englishmen! does not the apprehension of danger from -an invasion by a foreign power lay bare, in all its nakedness, the -monstrous folly--the astounding absurdity of suddenly elevating that -young and inexperienced man to the rank of a Field-Marshal? - -A Field-Marshal, who has never smelt powder save in the heartless, -inhuman cruelty of a _battue_ of game,--and who has never in his life -seen a shot fired in anger! - -England does not require such a Drawing-Room Field-Marshal: she wants a -Captain-General who, if need be, can compete with such a man as Bugeaud. - -But where will Royal Folly stop?--and when will any statesman have the -courage to resist the childish caprices of the Queen? - -In the same newspapers which are constantly telling us that the French -meditate an invasion--that if the Cuirassiers enter London on the east, -the best thing the Horse-Guards can do, will be to march out on the -west--that the conquerors will be sure to levy contributions upon us, -demand the settlement of old scores, strip us of our colonies, and -humiliate us in every way,--in the very same journals which tell us all -this, we read that _the Queen it anxious for Prince Albert to become -Commander-in-Chief, the Duke of Wellington retiring to make room for -him_! - -Merciful heavens! is such a monstrous absurdity to be consummated? -Is that grey-headed veteran, who won the field of Waterloo, to be -superseded by a mere boy? Much as we have disliked the Duke of -Wellington as a politician, yet we have felt proud of him as our -national hero;--and no words can convey an idea of the disgust with -which we perused the paragraph intimating that this mighty warrior was -to be put upon the shelf, to make way for a Prince who knows no more of -military matters than he does of the hieroglyphics on the Pyramids of -Egypt. - -If the Duke be desirous of withdrawing into private life, let him be -succeeded by some great Captain who knows what hard blows in the field -are--let his place be supplied by one of his own companions-in-arms. - -Have we none of the heroes of the Peninsular battles still alive?--have -we no names rendered glorious by victories achieved on the banks of the -Sutlej? - -It would be an insult the most glaring--the most flagrant, to all the -illustrious chieftains alluded to, were a young man who never saw an -angry shot fired, to be placed in authority over their heads! Already -have the great warriors of England been sufficiently humiliated by -the elevation of that young man to the rank of Field-Marshal:--but -really if the English Court be allowed to “play at soldiers” in this -disgraceful manner, it is no wonder that such men as the Duke of -Wellington should look with apprehension at the consequences of a -French invasion. - -Prince Albert may be very resolute and very determined in worrying a -poor otter with his dogs,--or he may be desperately brave in firing -vollies of small shot upon harmless birds: but as for his capacity or -his courage to lead an army----the idea is ridiculous! - -The English people have not gone stark, staring mad--even if some -few of their rulers have: and most sincerely do we hope that, if the -attempt to raise Prince Albert to the post of Commander-in-Chief -be persisted in, the country will oppose it by all moral and legal -means,--by memorial, petition, and remonstrance,--by public meetings -and the omnipotent voice of the public press,--in fine, by an universal -agitation such as that which knocked down the Corn-Laws! - -_For the consummation of so astounding an absurdity will prove the ruin -of the British Army!_ - -Surely it is not in civilised England, and in the middle of the -nineteenth century, that Royalty is to play its fantastic tricks, and -use all our grandest institutions as playthings? If so, we shall have -the Prince of Wales created on Admiral very shortly, and Dr. Howley may -resign the Archbishopric of Canterbury to little Prince Ernest Alfred. -And why not? Such appointments would be quite as rational as that of -Prince Albert to the post of Commander-in-Chief. - -Let not our readers suppose that we seek to bring Princes into -ridicule: they have a right to be Princes, if the people are foolish -enough to let them; but when they make themselves ridiculous by -grasping at offices for which they are totally unfitted, it is time for -us to speak out. - -We are inspired by no awe and entertain no solemn terror in dealing -with Royalty: for, after all, royal persons are only human creatures, -as well as we--and they seldom possess the good feelings and sterling -qualities which are to be found in honest, hard-working, enlightened -mechanics. - - * * * * * - -After a most agreeable voyage of two hours and a half, the French -steam-packet entered Calais harbour. - -Charles and Perdita proceeded to Dessin’s Hotel; and there they -determined to wait at least a few hours until the arrival of an English -steamer which was to leave Dover about a couple of hours later than -_Le Courier_. - -During this interval Charles bethought himself that, should Mrs. -Fitzhardinge not join them in the course of the day, Perdita and -himself would be compelled to continue their journey to Paris; and, -with a due sense of delicacy towards her who was to become his -wife, he saw the impropriety of their travelling alone together. He -accordingly intimated to Perdita the necessity of procuring for her a -lady’s-maid without delay; and though she would have much preferred -that herself and lover should be the sole occupants of the interior of -the post-chaise, she nevertheless comprehended that the expression of -such a wish on her part would give him but a poor idea of her modesty. -She therefore assented to his proposal with apparent cheerfulness, and -thanked him for his kind consideration. - -By the agency of Madame Dessin, the landlady of the hotel, a French -lady’s-maid, who understood English, was speedily obtained and engaged; -and Perdita was now by no means displeased to find herself elevated to -the position of a woman of some consequence. She, who but a short time -before had entered London in a butcher’s cart and clad in the meanest -apparel, was now provided with a special attendant and could choose -dresses of the latest fashion and the costliest material. - -The lady’s-maid was a pretty young woman of about three and twenty, -with fine hair and eyes, good teeth, and a beautiful figure; and -her attire was of the most tasteful, though quiet and unassuming, -description. Her manners were very agreeable, and would be termed -lady-like in this country: but, beneath a modest and innocent-looking -exterior, she concealed a disposition for intrigue and no small amount -of subtlety. At the same time, Rosalie--for that was her name--would -not for the world seek to lead a virtuous mistress astray; and to such -virtuous mistress she would doubtless prove an excellent, faithful, and -trust-worthy servant. But should she have to deal with a mistress given -to gallantry, then Rosalie would cheerfully exercise all her arts of -duplicity--all her little cunning machinations--and all her aptitude -for the management of an intrigue, and would take delight in enabling -her lady to deceive a husband or a lover. - -Such was the young person who now became Perdita’s attendant: but it -must be observed that the character of Rosalie, as far as it was known -to the landlady of the hotel, was unimpeachable:--that is to say, she -bore the reputation of honesty, cleanliness, a perfect knowledge of her -duties--in fine, all those qualifications which are sought and required -in an upper servant of her description. - -Having waited until the arrival of the English packet, and finding -that Mrs. Fitzhardinge did not make her appearance, Charles, to whom -her absence was unaccountable and bewildering to a degree, ordered -the post-chaise to be got ready; and, while this was being done, he -proceeded with Perdita to the British Consul’s to obtain passports. -Finally, at about five o’clock in the afternoon, our travellers took -their departure from Dessin’s Hotel in a chaise and four--Rosalie -occupying a seat inside, for the sake of appearances. - -Oh! had Charles Hatfield known that the young woman--his intended -bride--for whose reputation he manifested so much delicate care,--had -he known that she was so thoroughly polluted in body and mind,--could -he have heard the history which the two officers at Dover might -have told of her, had they chosen--he would have been shocked and -horrified,--he would have spurned her from him--and all his ardent, -enthusiastic love, amounting to an adoration and a worship, would have -changed into feelings of abhorrence, loathing, and hate. - -But he believed her to be pure and virtuous,--possessing some strange, -wayward, and eccentric notions, it is true,--and yet endowed with a -spirit so plastic and ductile as to yield willingly to good counsel and -to be ready to sacrifice any peculiarity of opinion to the man whom she -loved. - -It is likewise true that he remembered how she had permitted him, -in moments of impassioned tenderness, to toy with her--to press her -glowing bosom--to glue his lips to hers, as if she herself would -on those occasions accord even more: but he likewise recollected -how invariably she started from his arms--withdrew herself from his -embrace--and manifested a suddenly resuscitated presence of mind, when -he had grown too bold and, maddened with desire, had sought the last -favour which a woman, in amorous dalliance, can bestow. He therefore -reasoned that, although her naturally warm temperament had led her -to bestow upon him such unequivocal proofs of her love, yet that a -virgin pride and a maiden’s prudence had enabled her in every instance -to triumph over temptation;--and this belief enhanced his profound -admiration of her character. - -But from the moment that Charles had first beheld Perdita, his brain -had been in an incessant state of excitement,--an intoxication, an -elysian delirium which made Perdita on angel of beauty and almost of -excellence in his eyes:--and those fervent caresses which he had been -permitted to bestow upon her, and those slight foretastes of the most -voluptuous enjoyments which he had been allowed to snatch, had only -tended to sustain that excitement--increase the dreamy delights of that -intoxication--and enhance the bliss of that continuous delirium. - -Then, in addition to the fascinating influence of the syren--in -addition to the enthralling witchery which her charms, her arts, her -conversation, and the silver sounds of her dulcet voice exercised over -him,--were his ambitious hopes, his soaring aspirations! - -All these circumstances had combined to unsettle, if not altogether -change, in an incredibly short space, a disposition naturally good--a -mind naturally energetic and powerful: and then those unhappy scenes -with his father, when neither fully understood the meaning and drift of -the other’s observations, had aided to produce an excitement which was -thus hurrying the young man along apparently to his utter ruin! - -Unless, indeed, some good angel should yet intervene, ere it be too -late---- - -But we must not anticipate. - -On the contrary, let us return, from this partial though not -unnecessary digression, to the thread of our narrative,--so that -we may all the sooner be enabled to bring our readers back to that -metropolis--that mighty London, of which we have still so many -Mysteries to unfold! - -The travellers pursued their journey all night, Charles being anxious -to reach the French capital with the least possible delay, and Perdita -seconding him fully in the wish. - -Let us therefore succinctly state that in the morning they breakfasted -at Amiens--in the afternoon they dined at Beauvais--and at ten o’clock -in the evening they entered the splendid city of Paris. - -Did our limits and the nature of the tale permit us, we would here -gladly pause for a few minutes to describe that peerless capital which -we know and love so well: but this may not be;--and we therefore hasten -to state that Charles and Perdita, attended by Rosalie, proceeded -to a respectable family hotel, where they hired a handsome suite of -apartments. - -And now for an important event in this section of our narrative,--an -event which nevertheless may be related in a few words! - -For, at eleven o’clock on the morning following their arrival in -Paris, _Charles Hatfield, claiming to be Viscount Marston, and Perdita -Fitzhardinge were united in the bonds of matrimony, at the British -Ambassador’s Chapel in the Rue Saint Honoré, and by the Chaplain to the -Embassy_. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLVI. - -TWO UNPLEASANT LODGERS. - - -In the meantime certain little incidents had occurred in London, which -we must faithfully chronicle before we proceed with the adventures -of the newly married couple,--adventures, which, could Charles have -possibly foreseen---- - -But we were for a moment oblivious of the scenes that require our -attention in London, and which took place while Charles Hatfield and -Perdita were as yet on their way to Paris. - -Charterhouse Square--situate between Aldersgate Street and St. John -Street (Smithfield)--has a mournful, gloomy, and sombre appearance, -which even the green foliage in the circular enclosure cannot -materially relieve. The houses are for the most part of antiquated -structure and dingy hue--the windows and front-doors are small--and, -pass by them when you will, you never behold a human countenance at any -one of the casements. The curtains and the blinds,--and, in the winter -time, glimpses of the fires burning in the parlours,--these are, to a -certain extent, symptoms that the houses are tenanted: but no farther -signs of the fact can be discovered. Often and often as we have passed -through that Square, we never beheld a soul coming out of, nor going -into, any one of the gloomy abodes: we have observed a baker’s boy -and a butcher’s ditto hurrying rapidly round--but never could satisfy -ourselves that either of them had any particular business there, -for they did not knock at a single door;--and on one--and only one -occasion--when we met a two-penny post-man in the Square, he seemed to -be as much astonished at finding himself in that quarter as we were to -encounter him there. As for the beadle--his occupation seems to consist -of lounging about, switching a cane, strolling into the Fox and Anchor -public-house, and chatting for half-an-hour at a time with the very -sober-looking porter of the Charter House. - -There is a something really solemn and awful in the silence of that -Square,--not a silence and a repose which seem to afford relief to the -mind and rest to the ear after escaping from the tremendous din of -the crowded streets,--but a silence that strikes like a chill to the -heart. Whence arises this sensation?--is it because, while traversing -the Square, we are reminded that in the vast cloistral building to the -north are pent up eighty old men--the Poor Brothers of the Charter -House,--eighty denizens of a Protestant Monastery in the very heart -of civilised London,--eighty worn-out and decrepid persons who drag -out the wretched remnant of their lives beneath the iron sway of a -crushing ecclesiastical discipline! Does the silence of the Square -borrow its solemnity from that far more awful silence which reigns -within the Charter House itself,--a silence so awe-inspiring--so -dead--so tomb-like, that even in the noon of a hot summer-day, the -visitor shudders with a cold feeling creeping over him as he crosses -the cloistral enclosure! - -The reader will probably remember that, when Mr. Bubbleton Styles -had propounded his grand Railway scheme to Captain O’Blunderbuss and -Mr. Frank Curtis, he gave each of those gentlemen a ten-pound note, -desiring them to take respectable lodgings, and refer, if necessary, -to him. We know not precisely how it happened that the gallant officer -and his friend should have selected Charterhouse Square as the place -most likely to suit them with regard to apartments; but thither they -assuredly did repair--and in that gloomy quarter did they hire three -rooms: namely, a parlour on the first floor, and two bed-chambers on -the second. The landlady of the house was a widow; and, having some -small pittance in the shape of regular income, eked out by letting -a portion of her abode. She was an elderly woman--tall, starch, -and prim--and very particular in obtaining good references--or, at -least, what she considered to be good ones--respecting any applicants -for her apartments; and therefore, previously to admitting Captain -O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Frank Curtis into her house, she had sought all -possible information concerning them at the hands of Mr. Styles. His -account was satisfactory, and the two gentlemen were thereupon duly -installed in their lodgings at Mrs. Rudd’s, Charterhouse Square. - -The first two or three days passed comfortably enough, because the -captain and Frank, having ready money in their pockets, took their -dinner and supper--aye, and their grog too--at some convenient -tavern,--troubling Mrs. Rudd only in reference to their breakfast, -which she cheerfully prepared for them, because she thereby obtained -whole and sole controul over their groceries. She was a very pious -woman, and attended a Methodist Chapel regularly every Sunday; but -being, as she often expressed herself, “a lone widow,” she thought -there was no harm in using her lodgers’ tea, sugar, and butter for her -own repasts. “Heaven was very good to her,” she would often tell her -neighbours, “and enabled her to make the most of her little means:” she -might have added--“and of her lodgers’ also.” - -The captain and Frank, however, soon began to find that their evening -entertainments at the tavern were very expensive; and, as they could -not again draw upon Mr. Styles for some time--all his resources being -required for the promotion of the railway--they resolved to economise. -The best method of carrying this object into effect, was to take their -dinner, supper, and poteen at home; and Mrs. Rudd, on being sounded -in respect to the plan, willingly assented--for the excellent woman -felt assured that her lodgers would not miss a slice or two off a cold -joint any more than they noticed the marvellous disappearance of their -groceries. So the captain and his friend became more domestic; and as -Frank did not get particularly drunk on the two first evenings, Mrs. -Rudd had no complaints to make. - -But at last she began to suspect that she had some ground for doubting -the steadiness of her lodgers. It was on a Sunday evening, and the -worthy woman had just returned from chapel, where she had heard a most -refreshing and savoury discourse by the Reverend Mr. Flummery,--when, -on crossing the threshold of the house door, and while still ruminating -on the truly Christian manner in which the eloquent minister had -promised hell-flames to all heathens,--she was suddenly startled by -hearing a terrific noise proceeding from up-stairs. - -She paused--and listened! - -Yes: the sound _did_ emanate from above; and most strange sounds -they were, too. Deeply disgusted--nay, profoundly shocked at this -desecration of the Sabbath, Mrs. Rudd crept up stairs; and the nearer -she drew to the parlour-door, the more convinced did she become that -Captain O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Curtis were fighting a single combat -with the shovel and poker. The conflict was, however, only in fun: -for the clash of the fire-irons was accompanied by tremendous shouts -of laughter, and such ejaculations as these:--“There, be Jasus! I -have ye again, Frank! Blood and thunther, keep up your guar-r-d, man! -Now, would ye be afther a feint? Be the powers! and ye can’t touch -me at all, at all! Hit hard, me friend--niver mind the damned ould -poker-r-r--the ould woman is at chapel!” - -Mrs. Rudd was astounded--stupefied. Was it possible that these were -the lodgers whom Mr. Styles--a respectable “City man”--had recommended -as the very patterns of quietness and steadiness? Why, if she had let -her rooms to two Bedlamites, things could not have been worse! She was -positively afraid to go in to remonstrate; and, having recovered the -use of those limbs which wonder had for several minutes paralysed, she -hurried down stairs to consider what was best to be done, while supping -off her racketty lodgers’ cold joint. - -That same night Frank Curtis got so gloriously inebriated, that -he threw up his bed-room window and treated the whole Square to a -specimen of his vocal powers--singing some favourite Bacchanalian -song, and introducing the most terrific yells by way of variations. -The captain, who had also imbibed a little too much, soon after threw -up _his_ window, and exerted all the powers of _his_ lungs in chorus -with his friend; so that the deep, solemn, and awe-inspiring silence -of Charterhouse Square was broken in a fashion that seemed to surprise -the very echoes themselves. Without any figure of speech, it is -certain that the inhabitants were surprised; for their night, usually -passed in such death-like tranquillity, was unexpectedly and suddenly -“made hideous;” and several nervous old ladies, dwelling in the -neighbourhood, fancied that the frightful yells were warnings of fire, -and went off into strong hysterics. - -Vainly did Mrs. Rudd knock first at the captain’s door--then at -Frank’s: they heard her not--or, if they did, took no heed of her -remonstrances;--and when the beadle, who had been aroused from his bed, -came and thundered at the front-door, the two lodgers simultaneously -emptied their water-pitchers on his head. Then, satisfied with this -exploit, they closed their windows and retired to rest. - -When they descended to their parlour to breakfast in the morning, Mrs. -Rudd acquainted them, in a tone evincing the most violent concentration -of rage, that she could not possibly think of harbouring Captain -O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Curtis any longer. But, to her amazement, they -both swore that they were perfectly innocent of the disturbance of the -previous night,--alleging that they themselves were as much annoyed by -the row as the landlady herself. Mrs. Rudd could scarcely believe her -ears: had she been dreaming? No: the noise had really taken place--for -her lodgers admitted that they had heard it--though, to use a common -phrase, they swore “eyes and limbs” that they had not made it. However, -she gave them a week’s warning, and then calmly reminded them that a -week’s rent was already due; whereupon Captain O’Blunderbuss flew into -a terrific rage at the idea of “the maneness of the woman in spaking of -such a thrifle!” Mrs. Rudd was frightened, and turned in an appealing -manner to Mr. Frank Curtis, who declared point blank that the captain -was cashier, and that she must draw upon him: but, finding that the -gallant officer was a cashier without cash, Mrs. Rudd was compelled -to retire--muttering something about her being “a lone widow,” and -intimating a hope that the two weeks’ rent would be paid “all in a -lump” on the following Monday morning. - -The captain and Mr. Curtis now completely threw off the mask. They -no longer affected even to be “steady, quiet men of regular habits,” -as Mr. Styles had represented them; but they drank poteen “till all -was blue,” as Frank Curtis said--or, in the language of the gallant -officer, “till they couldn’t see a hole through a lath-er.” The -disturbances they created at night were hideous; and poor Mrs. Rudd -received from all her neighbours the most positive threats that they -would indict her house as a nuisance. At last, in the depth of her -despair, she had recourse to that excellent man, the Reverend Mr. -Flummery; and the Reverend Mr. Flummery, having heard her sad tale, -undertook to go in person and remonstrate with “these men of Belial.” - -Accordingly, one afternoon, just as the captain and Frank had finished -a couple of bottles of stout by way of giving themselves an appetite -for dinner, they were somewhat surprised when the parlour-door was -thrown open, and in walked a short, podgy, red-faced man, dressed in -deep black. Still more amazed were they when he announced himself -as the Reverend Emanuel Flummery, and stated that he had come to -remonstrate with them on their behaviour towards “a lone widow.” The -captain, winking at Curtis, desired the minister to be seated, and -proposed to discuss the business over another bottle of stout. His -reverence thought there was something so affable in the offer, that it -would be churlish to refuse it; and he accordingly gave his assent. The -stout was produced; and Mr. Flummery, being thirsty and hot, enjoyed it -excessively. - -He then began a long remonstrance with the two gentlemen--the gist of -which was that Mrs. Rudd would be very much obliged to them if they -would pay their rent and remove to other lodgings. The captain and -Frank pretended to listen with attention; and the reverend minister, -finding them in such a tractable humour, as he supposed, did not choose -to mar the harmony of the interview by declining a second bottle of -stout. Talking had renewed his thirst--and, moreover, if there were one -special beverage which the Reverend Emanuel Flummery loved more than -another, it was Guinness’s stout. Accordingly, he emptied his tumbler, -and then continued his remonstrance and his representations, in which, -however he was cut short by a sudden pain in the stomach--doubtless -produced by the effervescent malt liquor. The captain was prompt with -a remedy; and Mr. Flummery had swallowed a good dram of whiskey -before an eye could twinkle thrice. Thus cheered, and finding the -two gentlemen most docile and respectful, his reverence consented -to partake of a hot glass of toddy with them, just to convince them -that he was inclined to be friendly;--and this one glass led to a -second--and then Frank Curtis cunningly brewed him a third, while the -reverend minister was expatiating upon the good qualities of Mrs. Rudd. -In fine, Mr. Emanuel Flummery became so much disguised in liquor, -that, when he took his leave, he swore the captain and Frank Curtis -were two excellent gentlemen--begged them not to put themselves to any -inconvenience in moving--and assured them that he would make it all -right with the landlady. - -[Illustration] - -Mrs. Rudd, however, was mightily shocked when she beheld the condition -in which the reverend gentleman presented himself at her own -parlour-door; and she could indeed scarcely believe her eyes. But when, -after hiccupping out some unintelligible words, that self-same reverend -gentleman--the pastor of an admiring flock, and whose sermons were so -refreshing and so savoury,--when _he_,--the individual whom she had -looked upon as the essence of human perfection,--when _he_, we say, -cast his arms around her neck and administered to her somewhat wrinkled -cheeks a hearty smack,--_then_, what did she do? Why--she put up with -the affront--doubtless to save the reputation of the minister;--and, -perhaps with the same charitable desire to avoid the scandal of an -exposure, she permitted him to repeat his caresses as often as he chose -during the half-hour that he remained in her company. She even made -him some tea, which materially tended to sober him; and, when he had -at length taken his departure, she muttered several times to herself, -“Well--after all, this saint of a man is mere flesh and blood like any -other!” - -But when Mrs. Rudd’s more pleasurable reflections had ceased,--for -pleasurable they certainly were, both during the reverend gentleman’s -presence and for a short time after the door had closed behind -him,--she remembered that her disagreeable lodgers were, still in -the house, notwithstanding the remonstrances which, according to -his statement to the widow, the pious minister had most eloquently -addressed to them. And that they _were_ still in the dwelling, she -was very soon made to understand;--for the obstreperous behaviour of -those “dreadful men,” to use Mrs. Rudd’s own words, recommenced in -the form of the most hearty peals of laughter--and the clashing of the -fire-irons--and the stamping of feet, as if the two gentlemen were mad. - -“They have begun their booze,” said Mrs. Rudd to herself, looking -up in despair at the ceiling, as if she thought the captain and his -friend must inevitably come through upon her devoted head. “But -never mind!” she suddenly exclaimed aloud, as a thought--a very -bright thought struck her: “I will put up with it for this once--and -to-morrow--to-morrow----” - -Here Mrs. Rudd stopped short; for she would not even trust the empty -air with the lucid idea which had struck her. - -We may however inform our readers that this said idea was nothing more -nor less than to lock out the two gentlemen when they went for their -usual walk on the morrow. - -Tranquillized by the excellence of the scheme, Mrs. Rudd refreshed -herself with a small drop of brandy, and then spread her huge Bible -open on the table before her--not to read it, but merely because “it -looked pious-like,” as she thought, if any of her neighbours should -happen to drop in. For Mrs. Rudd delighted in the reputation for -sanctity which she enjoyed amongst her acquaintances in general, and -the frequenters of the reverend gentleman’s chapel in particular. - -Let us now return to Mr. Frank Curtis and Captain O’Blunderbuss, who, -as the landlady rightly concluded, were enjoying themselves in their -own peculiar fashion up-stairs. - -Having partaken of a cold joint, and the slip-shod girl of the house -having provided them with a jug of hot water, the two gentlemen -commenced the evening’s orgie. The whiskey-punch which they brewed was -of that kind which is libellously alleged to be peculiarly affected -by ladies--namely, “hot, strong, and plenty of it;”--and, under its -influence, they soon manifested their wonted exuberance of spirits. -First, Captain O’Blunderbuss would insist upon giving Frank a lesson -with the broad-sword--the one using the poker, and the other the -shovel;--and every time the gallant officer thrust his friend in the -ribs, a hearty shout of laughter burst from their lips--for they -considered it prime fun. - -When they were tired of this amusement, they resumed their -seats--replenished their glasses--and chatted on divers matters -interesting to themselves. Presently Frank started up, and leapt over -a chair in order to show his agility, although he had grown somewhat -stout of late years;--and as he acquitted himself in a clumsy manner, -the captain volunteered to teach him how to do it. But the gallant -officer only tumbled over the chair, causing a tremendous split in his -trousers--an accident at which they nevertheless both laughed more -heartily than ever. - -“Be Jasus!” cried the captain, “and it’s the only pair of -unmintionables that I possess! But niver mind: I’ll be afther telling -the gal to take them round to the tailor’s the first thing in the -morning; and so I’ll take my breakfast in bed, Frank. They’ll soon be -sent home again.” - -“Let’s see? we’ve got to meet Styles to-morrow at three in the -afternoon,” said Curtis; “and, by Jove! we must make him come down with -the dust.” - -“Be the power-rs! and you’re right, my frind!” exclaimed the captain. -“It’s eighteen-pince that’s left in my pocket at this prisint -spaking----” - -“And nothing at all in mine,” interrupted Frank, both his hands diving -at the same time down into the depths of the empty conveniences alluded -to. “Deuce take this railway affair! It gets on precious slow. I -remember when I was in Paris two or three-and-twenty years ago, they -were making a new path-way through my friend the Archbishop’s estate at -Fontainbleau; and if his Grace didn’t go and swear at the men all day -long, they never would have got on with it.” - -“Be the power-rs! if it’s a thrifle of swearing that would make Misther -Styles push a-head,” said the gallant officer, “I’m the boy to help him -on with that same.” - -“You see there’s been what they call a tightness in the Money-Market -lately,” observed Frank: “at least, that’s what Styles told me the -other day----” - -“And it’s an infer-r-rnal tightness that’s got hould of _our_ -Money-Market, my frind,” interrupted the captain. “Be Jasus! there’s -the potheen bottle empty--and no tick at the public!” - -“You’ve got eighteen-pence in your pocket, captain,” suggested Curtis. - -“Right, me boy!”--and he rang the bell furiously. - -The slip-shod girl answered the summons, and was forthwith despatched -for a supply of whiskey at the wine-vaults which the lodgers honoured -with their custom. - -“Now we’re altogether aground,” said Curtis, after a pause which had -followed the departure of the servant. “But we’ve every thing necessary -in the house for to-morrow morning’s breakfast, except the milk----” - -“And bar-r-ring my breeches, ye spalpeen!” cried the captain. “They -must be immediately menthed, any how.” - -“Oh! the tailor won’t think of asking for the money when he brings -them home,” said Curtis: then, beholding the comical expression of -his friend’s countenance, which was elongated with sore misgivings -respecting the amount of confidence the snip might choose to put in his -honour, Frank burst out into a tremendous fit of laughter. - -“Arrah! and be Jasus! and it’s all mighty fine for you, Misther Curtis, -to make a damned fool of yourself in that fashion,” exclaimed Captain -O’Blunderbuss, becoming as red as a turkey-cock: “but I can assure ye -that it’s no joking matther for me to contimplate the prospict of lying -in bed for a week or two till I get my breeches back again. And now, if -you’re not afther houlding your tongue, Frank, I’ll tip ye a small rap -on the head with the poker--by the howly poker-r, I will!” - -“Don’t get into a rage, captain,” said Curtis, putting a bridle upon -his mirth in consequence of the threat just held out--a threat which he -knew his amiable friend was perfectly capable of putting into force. “I -will go out the first thing in the morning and see Styles--and I have -no doubt he will give me some money. I shall be back again by the time -the tailor comes home with--with----” - -“The unmintionables!” vociferated the captain, his wrath reviving as -he saw that his friend was once more on the point of giving vent to -a hearty cachinnation. “But here’s the gal coming up stairs with the -potheen; and so we’ll be afther enjoying ourselves for the prisint, and -think of the tightness of the Money-Mar-r-rket in the morning.” - -“Well, what the deuce has made you so long?” demanded Frank Curtis, as -the slip-shod domestic entered the room. - -“Long, sir!” echoed the girl, as if in surprise. “Lor, sir--I ain’t -been a minit!” - -“Not a minute!” cried Frank, who always bullied servants--when they -weren’t footmen who could knock him down for his impudence: “I tell -you, you’ve been more than a quarter of an hour.” - -“Well, sir--and if so be I have,” said the girl, suddenly recollecting -something which had occurred to hinder her on her errand, “it was -because as I went out of the street-door a man come up and asked me if -so be as Mr. Smith lived here. ‘_No_,’ says I: ‘_he don’t.’--‘Well, -then_,’ says the man, ‘_Mr. Brown does.’--‘No, he don’t, though_,’ I -says, says I; ‘_nor yet Mr. Jones, nor Mr. Noakes neether.’--‘Well, who -does live here, then?_’ says the man; and as I thought it would teach -him not to be so precious knowing another time, I out and told him slap -as how two gentlemen lived here as was named Blunderbuss--leastways, -O’Blunderbuss, and Curtis.” - -“The devil you did!” ejaculated the two lodgers as it were in the same -breath, and exchanging significant glances which expressed the same -apprehension. - -“To be sure I did, sir,” responded the girl, not perceiving the alarm -which she had created in the minds of the gentlemen, but rather -attributing their excited ejaculations to an approval of her conduct: -“for I thinks to myself, thinks I, ‘_Now, my fine feller, you’ll -believe that there’s no Smiths or Browns here; and you won’t be quite -so positive another time._’” - -“Well--and what did the man say?” demanded Frank Curtis, darting -another uneasy glance at his friend. - -“He only said ‘_Oh!_’ and went away,” returned the girl; “and that’s -what kept me a little in going----” - -“What sort of a looking fellow was he?” asked Curtis. - -“He warn’t a gentleman, sir--and he smelt horrible of drink,” said the -domestic. - -“But what should you take him for?” demanded Frank, impatiently. - -“A thief, sir,” was the ingenuous response. - -“Be Jasus! and thin it’s a shiriff’s----” ejaculated Captain -O’Blunderbuss, starting in his chair: but, instantly stopping short -ere he completed the sentence, he added in a few moments and in a less -excited tone, “You may go down stairs, my dear; and if any one comes -and asks for Misther Frank Cur-r-tis or Captain O’Bluntherbuss, ye must -deny us, mind--or I’ll be afther skinning ye alive!” - -“Lor, sir!” cried the girl; and, horrified by the dreadful threat, she -hastened from the room as if the individual who had uttered the menace -were preparing to carry it into execution. - -For some few minutes after she had taken her departure, Captain -O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Curtis sate eyeing each other in silence,--the -same idea evidently occupying both--and both fearful to express it; as -if to give utterance to the thought were positively to meet the dreaded -misfortune half-way. - -“Well,” exclaimed Curtis, at length, “and what do you think of that?” - -“Be Jasus! and it’s what do _you_ think of it?” cried the captain. - -“For my part I think it’s Rumrigg and Kaysay the lawyers, who’ve found -out where we are, and mean to take us on that cursed cognovit we gave -them last Christmas for the discounter’s affair,” said Mr. Curtis, -who, having now fully expressed his fears, no longer hesitated to look -particularly blank upon the matter. - -“Faith! and that same’s my opinion also,” exclaimed the gallant -officer; then, grasping the poker very tight in his hand, he said, -“But if the thunthering villains of shiriff’s-officers crape into this -house, it’s myself that’ll sind ’em out again with a flay in their ear. -So don’t make yourself unhappy at all, at all, my frind; but let’s -dhrink bad luck to the bastes of the airth!” - -“With all my heart,” cried Frank, brewing for himself a strong glass of -toddy. “The only thing is----” - -“Is what?” demanded the captain, suddenly desisting from his occupation -of mixing a tumbler of grog for himself, and fixing his eyes sternly -upon his friend. - -“The breeches,” was the laconic answer. - -“Ah! now--and can’t ye be asy about those same unmintionables?” cried -the gallant officer. “I suspicted it was afther them ye was harping -again and again. It’ll become a sore subject in time, Frank. So -dhrink--and bad luck to the inexprissibles.” - -And the two gentlemen did drink, until the bottle was empty, when -they retired to rest--the captain having previously informed the -servant-girl that he should leave his trousers outside his chamber -door, and that she must take them round to the tailor the very first -thing in the morning, with instructions for him to mend and return them -as speedily as possible. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLVII. - -THE CAPTAIN’S LUDICROUS ADVENTURE. - - -Mr. Curtis arose at a very early hour--at least for him,--it being only -eight o’clock when he sallied forth with the intention of seeking Mr. -Bubbleton Styles, on whose purse he contemplated as deep an inroad as -that gentleman’s circumstances would permit. - -But before he quitted the house, he partook of breakfast, and -likewise carried in some tea and toast to his friend the captain, -who was compelled, “under painful circumstances,” as Frank observed, -to keep his bed for an hour or two. The gallant officer charged his -companion and ally to return without delay--the prudence of shifting -their quarters as soon as convenient, being strongly suggested by the -enquiries instituted regarding them on the preceding evening. - -Having disposed of his breakfast. Captain O’Blunderbuss turned himself -round in his bed and took a nap--in which luxurious state of light and -dreamy repose he remained for upwards of an hour, when he was suddenly -awakened by a low, sneaking, suspicious kind of double knock at the -street-door. - -He started up in bed; and, as he hastily collected his scattered ideas, -the affair of Rumrigg and Kaysay flashed to his mind. - -Leaping from his couch as a chesnut bounces from a shovel on the fire, -Captain O’Blunderbuss pulled on his stockings, thrust his feet into his -slippers, and stole out upon the landing, where he held his breath and -listened attentively. - -At that very instant the servant-girl, who invariably kept people -waiting at the door as long as possible, answered the summons; and the -captain overheard the following colloquy. - -“Is the genelmen at home, my dear?” asked a rough, harsh, grating voice. - -“Oh! you’re the one that stopped and spoke to me last evening,” -responded the girl. - -“Just so: but it was o’ny to make a few civil enquiries consarning your -missus’s lodgers. I ’spose they’re at home; and so me and my friend -will just walk up, my dear--‘cause our business is partickler.” - -“Well, then, it ain’t of no use to go up now,” said the servant-girl: -“for Mr. Curtis has gone out, and the captain isn’t out of -bed--leastways, he hasn’t left his room yet; and he brekfusted there.” - -“Never mind, my dear,” persisted the man with the hoarse voice: “we’ll -just walk up and pay our respeks to the captain, who is a wery nice -genelman no doubt.” - -From this conversation the gallant officer learnt that there were _two_ -persons enquiring for him, although _one_ only appeared to speak in -the matter. His worst suspicions were confirmed: they were bailiffs, -come to arrest him on the cognovit given jointly by himself and his -inseparable friend Mr. Francis Curtis to those astute gentlemen, -Messrs. Rumrigg and Kaysay. - -What was to be done? He must dress himself in all possible haste, and -fight his way desperately out of the house! - -This was his first idea. - -But it was so easy to think of dressing--and so difficult to carry the -scheme into execution: for, alas! the gallant officer’s unmentionables -were at the tailor’s; and he knew that Frank possessed not a second -pair! - -What, then, was to be done? - -Should he surrender himself into the hands of the officers, and be -borne ignominiously to Whitecross Street? The thought was ridiculous -with such a man as Captain O’Blunderbuss! - -Locking his own door, and taking the key with him, he scud up to -the top storey, and sought refuge in the bed-chamber of Mrs. Rudd, -who, he felt assured, had gone out to market as usual--otherwise she -would have been certain to emerge from her parlour below and join in -the conversation which had taken place between the bailiffs and the -servant-girl. - -The captain’s first thought, in thus flying to his landlady’s -bed-chamber, was merely to seek refuge there, and leave the officers to -suppose that he had gone out. It struck him that they would knock at -his door--would force open that door on not receiving any answer--and -would then conclude that he really was not at home. In the meantime -he should have leisure to decide upon the best means of ultimately -avoiding the bailiffs altogether. - -But scarcely had he entered Mrs. Rudd’s room when a new and truly -magnificent idea suggested itself--or rather, was suggested by the fact -that an open cupboard revealed the worthy landlady’s best silk gown, -while upon a chest of drawers stood the good woman’s Sunday bonnet, to -which she had been putting a new ribband that very morning before she -went out. The bonnet, which was of fine straw and of a large shape, was -provided with an ample blue gauze veil; for Mrs. Rudd liked to be smart -on the Sabbath--if it were only to compete with her female neighbours -who attended the “ministry” of the Reverend Emanuel Flummery. - -The appearance of the two articles of dress just specified, determined -the gallant officer how to act; and his arrangements were made with -almost lightning speed. - -The reader will recollect that he had no clothes at the moment to put -off before he put others on--he having sought the landlady’s room in -his shirt, stockings, and slippers. To slip into the silk dress was -therefore the work of an instant: to assume the Leghorn bonnet was -an affair accomplished with equal speed;--and to ransack the widow’s -drawers for a shawl was a matter scarcely occupying ten seconds. Then, -drawing the veil in thick folds over his moustachioed and whiskered -countenance with one hand, and grasping Mrs. Rudd’s parasol in the -other, Captain O’Blunderbuss took a hasty survey of himself in the -glass, and was perfectly satisfied with the result. - -We have before stated that Mrs. Rudd was very tall, starch, and -prim; and the reader is aware that Captain O’Blunderbuss was no -dwarf--neither was he particularly stout. Thus, although he certainly -appeared a very colossal woman, he might still pass as one at a -pinch--and surely need was never more pinching than on the present -occasion. At all events he was resolved to make the attempt; and -the exciting nature of the incident was just of the kind which he -particularly relished--though, perhaps, he would rather have had the -fun without the danger of the thing. - -In the meantime he had not been in a state of ignorance of what was -passing on the landing of the floor below; for the bailiffs, having -ascended to that height, stopped at his own chamber door, at which -they knocked. But receiving no answer, the one with the hoarse voice -exclaimed, “Captain O’Blunderbuss, I’ve got a message for you wery -particklar from a friend of your’n.” - -Still there was no response; and the man, addressing himself to the -servant-girl, asked her if she were sure that the captain was at home. - -“I’m certain he is,” was the reply; “because he’s sent out -his--his--trousers to be mended, and is lying a-bed till they come -back.” - -“But mayn’t he have another pair?” demanded the bailiff. - -“I don’t b’lieve he have,” said the girl: “leastways, I never see more -than one either on or off him.” - -“Then the captain _is_ at home,” growled the sheriff’s-officer; “and we -must do our dooty, Tom.” - -These last words were evidently addressed by the speaker to his -companion; and the captain comprehended that the forcing of the door -would be the next step. Nor was he wrong in his conjecture;--for, -before the servant girl could divine the intention of the two men, they -had effected an entrance into the chamber which the gallant officer had -only quitted three minutes previously. - -The captain, who had been listening at the door of Mrs. Rudd’s own -bed-room, now partly descended the stairs, and again stood still to -listen--his proceedings being conducted as noiselessly and cautiously -as possible. - -“Well--I’m blowed if he’s here!” exclaimed the bailiff with the hoarse -voice. - -“No more than a cat,” returned his companion. - -“How’s this, my dear?” continued the first speaker: “have you been -a-making fools on us?” - -“No,” answered the girl sharply: “I thought the captain was here--but -he ain’t. So I s’pose he’s gone out without my hearing or seeing him. -But now you’ve broke the lock of the door and must pay for it--or else -missus will blow me up finely when she comes home from market.” - -“Then she _is_ at market,” said Captain O’Blunderbuss to himself, -his hopes becoming more elated by the assurance thus conveyed to him -through the servant-girl’s remark to the bailiffs. - -“Pay for it, indeed!” growled the one with the hoarse voice. “That -won’t suit our books neither. S’pose we fix the lock on agin in such a -way that it won’t be knowed as how we ever busted the door open at all?” - -“Well--do what you like; but make haste about it, ’cause missus is -sure to come home in a minit or two--leastways if she’s raly out; for -I didn’t see her go. But I s’pose she is--or else she’d have been down -afore this to know what all the row’s about.” - -“We’ll see to it, my dear,” observed the hoarse-speaking bailiff. “But -I say, Tom--here’s the captain’s cap, and coat, and veskitt. Bless’d if -I believe he’s gone out arter all! Let’s search t’other rooms: this gal -is a-playing tricks with us.” - -“Come into Mr. Curtis’s chamber and see,” exclaimed the juvenile -servant; and the captain heard the party pursuing their domiciliary -visit in the quarter alluded to. “Well, now?” said the girl, with a -derisive laugh: “is he there? Oh! ah! you may look under the bed! Why -don’t you search the drawers--or get up the chimley and look out on the -tiles?” - -“Don’t be sarsy, my dear,” growled the bailiff. “Come--here’s a -shillin’ for you. Now tell us the truth--ain’t the captain somewhere in -the house?” - -“Yes--I’m sure he be,” returned the girl; “’cause his breeches is gone -to be mended, and his coat and wescutt and cap is in his own room--and -I know he ain’t got two suits of clothes. Besides,” she added, sinking -her voice to a tone of mysterious confidence--though not so low as to -be inaudible to the gallant officer on the stairs above, “his bluchers -is down stairs to be blacked--and I’ll swear he ain’t got two pair of -them.” - -“Then he is in the house,” said the bailiff. “Now, Tom, I tell’ee what -we must do. You stay here, and me and the gal will just toddle down -stairs and look in the kitchen, and scullery, and sich-like places.” - -“Oh! but you must put the lock right first,” exclaimed the girl; “for -if missus--Lor! here she is!” added the affrighted servant, in a -hurried whisper. - -The fact was that the captain, by some awkward and unintentional -movement, at that very instant rustled the silk gown loud enough for -the sound to catch the ears of the girl and the bailiffs; and he was -about to curse his folly, when, finding that all had suddenly become -still on the floor below, it instantly struck him that the juvenile -servant had imposed silence on the officers for fear her mistress -should stop to enquire the cause of their presence and thereby notice -the damaged lock. - -He was perfectly correct in his conjecture: and, perceiving that -the sudden stillness remained unbroken, he boldly descended the -stairs--imitating as well as he could the measured walk of the -sanctimonious landlady, and treading with feminine lightness in his -slippers. - -On reaching the landing--the dreaded landing whence opened the room -where the officers were concealed with the servant girl--Captain -O’Blunderbuss felt a violent inclination to make a precipitate rush -down the remainder of the stairs to the bottom: but, fearing that such -a proceeding would only lead to his capture, as it was certain to -excite an instantaneous suspicion of the truth and a vigorous pursuit -in consequence, he pursued his way with measured tread, taking good -care to rustle the silk dress as much as possible. - -The landing of the first floor was gained in safety: he was descending -the last flight--and his escape appeared certain,--when a loud double -knock at the front-door echoed through the dwelling. - -For an instant the gallant officer was staggered: but a second thought -convinced him that it was not his landlady’s knock--and he sped boldly -on. - -Drawing his veil as closely as possible over his countenance, and -tucking the parasol under his arm for the moment, he opened the -front-door. - -The visitor was the Rev. Mr. Emanuel Flummery. - -“Ah! my dear madam,” said that pious man, stepping into the passage -with all the unceremonious ease of a familiar friend, and not at the -instant noticing the extraordinary height of the person whom he thus -addressed; “I looked in just to ask you how you were--and--and,” he -added, sinking his voice to a low whisper, “for the purpose of tasting -in your arms a renewal of those favours which you yesterday----” - -But to the ineffable wonderment of the reverend gentleman, the -fictitious Mrs. Rudd dealt him such a sudden and violent blow with a -heavy clenched fist, just between his two eyes, that he was floored on -the spot; and the captain seizing the front-door key, darted out of the -house. - -Banging the door behind him, the gallant officer locked it, and marched -away with a haste and a manliness of step which, had any one been -passing at the time, would have betrayed his real sex in a moment. - -Suddenly, however, it struck him that he was playing a female -character; and, instantly relaxing his speed, he assumed a gait so -mincing, affected, and fantastic, that his appearance was most comical -and ludicrous. - -He put up the parasol, and held it so as to screen his countenance, -over which he likewise kept the blue gauze veil in many folds; and, -in this manner, the gallant gentleman pursued his way half round the -Square--not daring to take precipitately to his heels, yet fearful -every instant of hearing a hue and cry raised behind him. - -“Lauk-a-daisy me!” cried a female voice, suddenly breaking upon the -captain’s ears, and speaking close by. - -“Be Jasus! mim--and is it yourself?” ejaculated the gallant gentleman, -stopping short: “because it’s me that’s afther being Misthress Rudd -just at the prisint spaking!” - -“You Mrs. Rudd!” exclaimed the infuriated landlady. -“Here--murder--thieves----” - -“Hould, mim!” said the captain, in a tone so ferocious that it -silenced the woman in an instant: “if ye’re afther raising an alarm, -mim, I’ll bethray ye to all the wor-r-ld for having bestowed your -favours yesterday on that spalpeen of a methodist parson--that will I, -Misthress Rudd, and bad luck to ye!” - -The landlady was thunderstruck--astounded. - -“So now, mim, just walk on quietly to your own house, of which I hereby -prisint ye with the kay,” continued the captain; “and mind ye don’t -look once behind ye until ye reach your own door--and I’ll sind your -toggery back again this evening--and you’ll be sure to give mine to the -missinger that brings yours, paying likewise for my throusers, mim. And -bewar-r-r, mim,” added the gallant gentleman, with a terrific rattling -of the r’s, “how ye bethray me in any way--if ye valley the sacret of -your indecent proceedings with the methodist parson.” - -Thus speaking, the captain handed the bewildered Mrs. Rudd the key of -her house, and hurried on. - -From the moment that he had quitted the dwelling until the termination -of this scene, scarcely three minutes had elapsed: but the captain -was well aware that the bailiffs would not be much longer before -they discovered his flight, as the Rev. Mr. Flummery, whom he had -so unceremoniously knocked down in the passage, would speedily and -inevitably give them such information as would open their eyes to the -real truth of all the recent proceedings. - -Accordingly, the gallant gentleman’s object was to get away from -Charterhouse Square within the shortest space of time possible; and -the moment he parted from Mrs. Rudd he struck into the Charter House -itself, under the impression that there was a thoroughfare in this -direction. - -But before he turned under the gloomy archway of that monastic -establishment, he looked round and beheld the landlady still standing -on the spot where he had left her--motionless, and apparently petrified -with horror and astonishment at the threats which he had held out. Her -back was, however, turned towards him,--and he therefore felt more at -ease in his mind as he entered the Charter House. - -“Who do you want, mem?” said the porter, as he emanated from his crib. - -But Captain O’Blunderbuss affected not to hear the challenge, and -passed on--adopting that mincing affectation of gait which we have -before noticed, and which made him appear such a comical figure. - -“Well, I’m blowed if I ever see sich a o’oman!” mattered the porter -to himself, as he returned to his lodge. “Vonderful giantesses ain’t -nothink to her. And her petticuts--my eye! ain’t ’em short too? But she -hasn’t a wery bad leg neither--though her stockins might be a trifle or -so cleaner.” - -The captain continued his way,--still shading his head with -the parasol--still keeping the veil closely folded over his -countenance,--but not the less able to reconnoitre the place in which -he now found himself for the first time in his life. - -He beheld a wide, open space, laid out in grass plats, bordered -and intersected by gravel walks, and surrounded by low continuous -buildings, of uniform architecture and cloistral appearance. - -Here and there were scattered groups of old men--collected in knots -of threes and fours, and apparently basking in the summer sun, which -warmed their frames so attenuated and chilled by age. They did not -appear happy--scarcely comfortable or contented;--and could the captain -have overheard the remarks which they mumbled and muttered to each -other, he would have found that they loathed and detested--hated and -abhorred the monastic gloom, the rigid discipline, and the monotonous -course of life to which necessity had consigned them. - -When the gallant officer made his appearance in this enclosure, his -strange and ludicrous figure instantly attracted the notice of the -various groups alluded to; and the old fellows began to wonder whom the -tall, stately-looking dame was about to honour with a visit. - -But by this time Captain O’Blunderbuss had arrived at the unpleasant -conviction that there was no thoroughfare either into Goswell Street -or Wilderness Row; and he once more found himself, as he subsequently -observed, “in a divil of a pother.” - -The reader is, however, well aware that our gallant friend was not -precisely the man to turn back and surrender to his enemies, who, he -felt assured, must by this time be instituting an active search after -him in the vicinity--even if they had not become aware that he had -sought refuge in the Charter House. - -What was to be done? - -Nothing--save to enlist some kind inmate of the establishment in his -interests;--and on this proceeding he at once decided. - -From an upper window he beheld a good-natured, red, round, jolly face -looking forth, the casement being open;--and a rapid glance showed the -captain the staircase that led to the particular room in which the -proprietor of that face must be. - -He accordingly walked on with the steady pace and apparent ease of a -person who had the assurance of knowing his--or should we not rather -say _her_--way;--and entering the building, he ascended the stairs, -until he reached a door on which was a brass-plate bearing the name of -MR. SCALES. - -Without any ceremony, the captain walked into the room; and the -gentleman with the red face, turning away from the window, began to -contemplate his supposed visitress with the most profound amazement. - -But how much was this surprise enhanced, when the apparent lady threw -down the parasol, exclaiming in a voice of singularly masculine -power, “Bad luck to ye! ye damned spalpeen of an umbrilla!”--and -then immediately afterwards raised a veil which revealed a face -embellished with a fierce pair of moustachios and a very decent pair of -whiskers--to say nothing of a certain ferociousness of expression and a -weather-beaten complexion, which added to the unfeminine appearance of -the whole countenance. - -“What the deuce does all this mean?” demanded the Brother of the -Charter House, at length recovering the use of his tongue, and with -difficulty subduing an inclination to laugh;--for he was a jolly old -bird, as his face denoted, and doubtless fancied that some masquerading -amusement was in progress. - -“What does it mane!” ejaculated the gallant officer; “why, just this, -me frind--that I’m no more a woman than ye are yourself--but it’s -Capthain O’Bluntherbuss I am, of Bluntherbuss Park, ould Ireland. The -shiriff’s people are afther me--and I ’scaped ’em in this toggery. -So now it’s your own precious aid and assistance I want--and, be the -pow-r-rs! ye’ll not repint of any kindness ye may show to a genthleman -in timporary difficulties.” - -Mr. Scales--for such was indeed the name of the red-faced Brother whose -hospitality and aid the captain thus sought--now burst out laughing -in good earnest; and the gallant officer laughed too--for he dared -not show any ill-feeling on the score of his new friend’s merriment. -Besides, that very merriment seemed to augur a willingness to render -the assistance demanded: and therefore the two laughed in concert very -heartily and for upwards of a couple of minutes. - -At last Mr. Scales’s mirth subsided into a low chuckle, until it became -altogether extinct so far as its vocal expression was concerned;--and -then he enquired in what manner he could render his aid to Captain -O’Blunderbuss. - -The gallant gentleman very frankly revealed to him his real position: -namely, that he had been compelled to beat a precipitate retreat -from his lodgings, where he had left his cap, coat, waistcoat, and -boots,--that his breeches were at the tailor’s,--that he had nothing -on but his landlady’s garments, barring his own shirt, stockings, and -slippers,--that he had not a penny in his pocket, nor indeed any pocket -at all as he then stood equipped,--and that he was most anxious to get -into the City, where he could obtain funds in a minute. - -Mr. Scales indulged in another laugh, and then proceeded to comment on -the statement which had been made to him. - -“I have got a couple of sovereigns in my pocket,” he began, “and don’t -mind advancing them for your service if they will do any good.” - -“Faith! and they’ll pay the landlady and the tailor!” ejaculated the -captain, quite delighted at the prospect just held out. - -“Very well,” said Mr. Scales. “Then we can recover your clothes for -you. But how will it be if the officers are in the house, and, seeing -your landlady give me the garments, should follow me?” - -“Be Jasus! and Misthress Rudd is complately in my power-r!” cried -Captain O’Blunderbuss:--“just tell her that if she don’t manage the -thing slily for ye, that I’ll split upon her and the Riverind Mr. -Eminuel Flummery--and she’ll turn as make and as mild as a lamb. But I -must be afther sinding her back her own toggery.” - -“I’ve got a large band-box in my little bed-room adjoining,” said -Mr. Scales; “and I don’t mind carrying out the gown and the bonnet -and shawl in it. Never do things by halves--that’s my motto. In the -meantime, you can put on my dressing-gown:--I am sorry my own clothes -would be much too small for you--or else----” - -“Oh! be Jasus! and I’d sooner get back my own,” cried the captain. “I -niver should dar-r to prisint myself in any other toggery to my frind -in the City.” - -“Well and good: you can step into my bed-room and undress yourself,” -said Mr. Scales; “and I’ll be off as soon as you are ready.” - -“And them ould fogeys down stairs in the yard,” observed the -captain,--“they’ll be afther quistioning ye, my frind, about the tall -lady in the black silk gown that’s a foot and a half too shor-r-t for -her.” - -“Oh! leave them to me,” said the good-natured Brother of the Charter -House: “I’ll tell them it’s my sister. Bless your soul, they’re all -purblind, and never will have noticed any thing peculiar in your dress. -It’s the nurses that I most fear--the charwomen of the establishment, I -mean;--for if any of them saw you----” - -“I didn’t observe one of them, my dear frind,” interrupted the captain. -“But we’ve niver a ha’porth of time to lose--and so I’ll be afther -getting out of this infer-r-nal silk gown and Lighorn bonnet.” - -From the moderate-sized, but lofty and airy apartment in which -this colloquy took place, the captain passed into a little chamber -only just large enough to contain a bed, a chest of drawers, and a -toilette-table: and there he speedily extricated himself from the -feminine apparel, all of which he thrust pell-mell into the band-box -which his friend had pointed out to him for the purpose. He then -wrapped himself in Mr. Scales’s dressing-gown; and this being done, he -gave the good-natured Brother the necessary instructions how to proceed -with regard to the landlady and the tailor. - -Having tied a string round the band-box, so as to carry it the more -conveniently, and likewise with a better appearance of negligent -ease, Mr. Scales now set out on his mission--previously enjoining -the captain to keep the door carefully locked until his return, and -mentioning a signal by which his knock at the door might be known, so -that the gallant officer should not incur the danger of admitting any -other person. The moment the martial gentleman was left to himself, he -advanced straight up to the cupboard, which he unceremoniously opened; -and, to his huge delight, perceived a bottle containing a fluid which -was unmistakeably of that alcoholic species so widely known under the -denomination of gin. The captain took a long draught of the raw spirit, -and, much refreshed, sate down to await his new friend’s return. - -A quarter of an hour passed, during which he calculated the chances of -eventual escape from the bailiffs. - -If they had not discovered the trick which was played them, before the -captain had entered the Charter House, there was every prospect in his -favour; because he felt assured that Mrs. Rudd, even if she had seen -him take refuge there, would not dare to betray him. - -But if, on the other hand, they had ascertained the whole truth while -he was as yet outside the Charter House gates, then they had most -probably rushed to the windows and obtained a glimpse of his person in -the Square. - -And yet, recurring to the chances that were favourable to him, he -reasoned that when the noise attendant upon knocking down the methodist -minister had reached the ears of the officers, some time would then be -lost in receiving explanations from that reverend gentleman, and in -vain attempts to open the door--until Mrs. Rudd’s return with the key; -and in the interim his place of concealment would have been gained, and -would remain unsuspected by the bailiffs. - -On the other hand, once more, what if the officers had not waited -for Mrs. Rudd’s return at all, but had leapt out of the ground-floor -windows? - -“Oh! bad luck to the pro and con!” ejaculated the captain aloud. “I’m -safe here--and that’s enough. For if the spalpeens had suspicted that I -_am_ here, they’d have been afther me long ago!” - -Rising from his seat, he crept cautiously up to the window and took -a survey of the enclosures through which he had passed a short time -before; and this reconnoitring process was highly satisfactory. The old -Brothers were lounging about as he had just now beheld them; and not a -shadow of a sheriff’s-officer was to be seen. - -Highly delighted by the hopeful assurances which the aspect of things -thus conveyed to his mind, Captain O’Blunderbuss paid another visit to -the cupboard, and regaled himself with another refreshing draught from -the gin-bottle--after which potation, he smacked his lips in approval -of the alcoholic beverage, and resumed his seat and his meditations. - -The latter continued for another quarter of an hour; at the expiration -whereof the gallant gentleman paid his respects a third time to the -cupboard; and scarcely had he closed the door of that commodious -recess, when the concerted signal was given, announcing his friend’s -return. - -As Mr. Scales entered the room, a glance showed the captain that his -friend had succeeded in his mission; for the red countenance wore a -triumphant smile, and the band-box had not come back empty. - -“Be Jasus! and you’re a thrump!” exclaimed the gallant Irishman, as he -marked these indications of success. “But what news of them bastes of -the airth----” - -“Oh! you’re all safe, my dear fellow,” interrupted Mr. Scales, wiping -the perspiration off his rubicund countenance. “The clothes are in the -box--the landlady is intimidated, and therefore in your interests--and -the bailiffs have got entirely on a wrong scent. In fact, they had left -the house before I got there: but there’s no doubt they’re waiting -about in the neighbourhood--and therefore it will be better for you to -remain here until dark, if you possibly can. I will give you a bit of -dinner--and may be a glass of grog----” - -“Potheen--rale potheen!” ejaculated the captain, viewing with supreme -satisfaction the present prospect of affairs. - -“Well--whiskey, if you prefer it,” said the obliging Mr. Scales. “At -all events we’ll have a jolly afternoon of it, and drink to our better -acquaintance.” - -“Betther acquaintance!” cried the Irishman, who, in spite of his -adventurous kind of existence, possessed many of the truly generous -qualities of his much maligned and deeply injured fellow-countrymen; -“betther acquainted we can’t become, my frind: for when a man has done -all he could for another, and that other a tothal stranger to him, I -mane to say it makes them inthimate at once. And, be Jasus! Misther -Scales, if ye’ve an inimy in the whole wor-r-ld, tell me his name and -give me his address, and it’s Capthain O’Bluntherbuss that’ll be afther -paying him a morning visit, sinding up his car-r-d, and then skinning -him alive!” - -Mr. Scales expressed his gratitude for these demonstrations of -friendship, but assured the gallant gentleman that he had no enemy whom -he wished to undergo the process of flaying at that particular time. - -The captain now entered the little bed-room, and hastily equipped -himself in his own clothing--the breeches, which the good-natured -Brother had paid for at the tailor’s, being neatly mended: so that the -Irishman speedily re-appeared in the semi-military garb which became -him rather more suitably than the habiliments of Mrs. Rudd. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLVIII. - -THE CHARTER HOUSE. - - -Captain O’Blunderbuss, having made himself thus far comfortable, wrote -a note to Curtis, which Mr. Scales despatched by a messenger to Mr. -Bubbleton Styles’s office in the City;--for the Irishman calculated -that if Curtis should return to the lodgings in Charterhouse Square -before the said note reached him, he would, on hearing the adventures -of the morning, retrace his way to Crosby Hall Chambers--there to await -either the presence of the captain, or at least some communication from -him. This arrangement appeared to be far more prudent than to trust -Mrs. Rudd with either letter or message announcing the place where the -captain was concealed. - -The note being written, and the messenger despatched with it, Mr. -Scales proposed a luncheon of bread and cheese and porter, as it was -only eleven o’clock in the forenoon, and he intended to order dinner -for half-past two. A “nurse,” as the charwoman was called, making her -appearance about this time, the refreshments above mentioned were duly -procured; and Mr. Scales intimated to his attendant that he should not -dine in the common hall that day, but would entertain his friend with -steaks and potatoes in his own apartment. - -When the captain and the worthy Brother were again alone together, they -fell into a conversation upon the establishment to which the latter -belonged and in which the former had found so hospitable a refuge. - -“Ye seem to have a comfortable berth of it, my frind,” observed the -martial gentleman, after burying his countenance for nearly a minute in -a pewter-pot. - -“Well, the fact is,” returned Mr. Scales, “I manage to make myself -happy, because I am naturally of a gay and lively disposition, and I -have a great many friends who come to see me. Moreover, I have a few -pounds coming in from a snug little annuity--and therefore I can afford -those luxuries which the others have no chance of obtaining. But if it -weren’t for these circumstances, captain,” added Mr. Scales, sinking -his voice to a mysterious whisper, “I should never be able to endure -the place.” - -“Not endure the place!” repeated the captain, who manifested unfeigned -surprise at the observation. “Be the holy poker-r-r! and it sames a -broth of a place, it does!” - -“Ah! it’s all very well for people out of doors to be told of the -existence of the charity,” resumed the Brother; “and how it gives -an asylum to eighty poor men, who are widowers and past fifty -years of age: but it’s the discipline, my dear sir--the interior -discipline,--and then the manner in which we are treated by the -authorities of the establishment!” - -“Then there’s abuses in the Charter-r-r House as well as elsewhere?” -said the captain, interrogatively. “Blood and thunther! where the divil -aren’t there abuses, if this same is the case?” - -“No where, when the Church has any influence in the matter,” returned -Mr. Scales. “But I will explain myself more fully. This institution, -you must know, was founded for the purpose of affording an asylum to -poor and deserving men, chiefly of the literary or learned professions. -But will you believe it? There’s scarcely a literary man in the place; -and the only one of any repute at all is Mr. Valcrieff, the celebrated -dramatic author. The patrons put in their old and worn-out butlers or -lacqueys;--but this would not matter, so long as worthy, deserving, and -respectable characters were nominated--which is not the case----” - -“Then you have some quare characters among ye, I’ll be afther -guessing?” exclaimed the captain. - -“We have indeed, my friend,” responded Mr. Scales; “and that is what I -chiefly complain of. For instance, we’ve lately had a certain Colonel -Tickner thrust upon us--but who is no more a Colonel than I am. A short -time ago he called himself Major Tickner--and a little while before -that, he was Captain Tickner. So, you perceive, he rises rapidly--and I -have no doubt he will be a General next week.” - -“A Ginral, be Jasus!” cried Captain O’Blunderbuss. “It’s thrue I might -have been one myself by this time, if I’d only stuck to the service: -but I’ll swear by the holy poker-r, that your Colonel Tickner is -nothing more nor less than an imposthor--a vile imposthor,--and it’s -meself that’ll unmask him.” - -The gallant gentleman deemed it necessary to fly into a passion -relative to the pretences of the self-styled Colonel Tickner to a high -military rank; inasmuch as such a display of indignation on his part -at the assumption of another, seemed to justify his own right to the -honourable grade of Captain. - -“Well, it is shameful for men to pretend to be what they are not,” -observed Mr. Scales. “This Colonel Tickner sometimes bores me with his -company; and it is not at all improbable that he may look in after -dinner. If so, we will have some rare fun with him.” - -“If he dar-r-rs to have any of his impudence to me,” cried the captain, -looking particularly ferocious at the moment, “I’ll trate him as I -trated a French dhragoon at Water-r-r-loo. ‘_Come hither, ye spalpeen, -and let me cut ye down to the middle!_’ says I.--‘_Oui, Monsieur_,’ -says he; and on he comes with a rush.--‘_Blood and thunther!_’ says -I, ‘_is it fighting ye mane, when I’ve as good as taken ye prisoner -before-hand?_’--and griping him by the throat, I throttled him, sir, -in less time than ye’d be in tossing off a thimblefull of potheen. But -pray go on telling me about the Charter House, my frind--and let’s hear -all your little gravances. Ye were spaking of the discipline of the -place just now;--and sure it’s meself that knows what discipline ought -to be.” - -[Illustration] - -“Ah! my dear sir, the discipline of the Army and that of the Church -are two very different things,” said Mr. Scales. “We’re eighty -Poor Brothers in this establishment; and every night the curfew -rings--eighty strokes of the bell! When one dies, there are only -seventy-nine strokes until the vacancy is filled up;--and you may -believe me when I tell you that there is something horrid in sitting -in one’s lonely room of a dark wintry night, and counting the bell to -see whether a Brother has not died since we all met in the common hall -in the afternoon. For there are some very, very old men here; and old -men go off, you know, like the snuff of a candle. Then, when one does -die, and we hear the bell stop at seventy-nine, it sends the blood all -cold and icelike to the heart--and a shudder creeps over the frame, -from head to foot,--for there’s no saying whose turn it may be next. -Ah! captain, it may seem but a trifling thing to you--a very trifling -and paltry thing, this tolling of the curfew-bell: but I can assure -you that to us, who are pent up here, it is no such trivial matter. -For, in the deep, deep silence of this cloistral building, the dreary, -dull, monotonous tolling of that bell suddenly arouses the most painful -thoughts,--thoughts of approaching death, and coffins, and shrouds, -and new-made graves, and all the sombre ceremony of funerals. But to -hear that bell toll one _less_,--to know that a Brother has succumbed -to the icy hand of the destroyer--to feel that there is a gap in our -fraternity--a vacancy in our association,--even though we may not have -loved--perhaps not even respected the individual who is gone,--still to -have forced open us, by the deep-toned monitor, the conviction that he -_is_ gone,--this--this is terrible in our cloistral loneliness!” - -The captain made no observation; but he evidently listened with -profound attention;--and Mr. Scales, warming in his subject, went _on_. - -“I told you just now that I am naturally of a gay and cheerful -disposition, and that I can make myself happy under most -circumstances. But when I am alone here of an evening, and listen to -the curfew-bell, I--yes, _I_ also am seized with a cold shuddering, -and my blood creeps with an ice-chill in my veins. And if I hear the -strokes stop at seventy-nine, it suddenly appears to me that a shape, -dim, shadowy, and wrapped in a shroud, flits past me;--and I cast my -eyes around--almost dreading lest the pale and ghastly spectre of the -deceased Brother should be standing behind my chair. And, when there -_is_ one lying dead in the Charter House, I feel afraid at night--and -sleep visits not my pillow. I do not believe in ghosts--at least, I do -not believe in them when it is day-time; but in the deep, silent, and -dark night,--yes, _then_ I believe in them--and I tremble! Oh! you can -form no idea of the horrors endured in this place while the curfew-bell -tolls: for if it give forth a single note less than the eighty, then -every one shudderingly says within himself--aye, and in the solitude -of his own chamber--‘_Who knows but that it may be my turn next?_’ Is -it not cruel, then, to maintain that monastic custom of ringing the -nightly bell,--to alarm weak and trembling old men, whose intellects -are attenuated by the weight of years, and whose imaginations are -so susceptible of all influences likely to engender the gloomiest -forebodings: for such is the case with the great majority of the Poor -Brothers of the Charter House.” - -The captain made a brief remark to show that he was listening with deep -attention--as indeed he was; and Mr. Scales proceeded in the following -manner:-- - -“Yes--the greater portion of the Poor Brothers are very infirm old -men, who need companionship to enliven them, and little attentions to -cheer them, and indulgences to render their existence tolerable. But -every morning,--summer and winter--hot or cold--sunshine above, or -snow knee-deep below,--they must all turn out at an early hour from -their warm beds; and while still fasting, must repair to the chapel -to attend prayers. And in the performance of this duty, which is -rigidly enforced by fine, we are compelled to wear long, dark cloaks, -so that when thus muffled up we appear to be a procession of monks, -each wrapped in his cowl! Here again you may observe that there is -no harm in the custom;--but you must remember that there is a vast -difference between what one does spontaneously, and what he is forced -by a rigid, inexorable discipline to do. The fact that these poor old -men are thus compelled to wear the badge of monastic pauperism is -the iron that enters into their souls. They have been compelled by -their necessities to accept an asylum in this place--and they feel -that they are treated as paupers. Their old age, which the world -without believes to be passing in a serene and tranquil happiness -here, unruffled by mundane cares, is rendered miserable and wretched -by a thousand little vexatious points of discipline which make up an -aggregate sum of tremendous ecclesiastical oppression. In the deep -silence of the night--the awful silence that reigns throughout this -pile,--and in the solitude of his gloomy apartment,--each of those poor -old creatures broods upon what he deems to be his wrongs;--and you need -not be surprised when I tell you that they are often driven to the -very verge of despair--or to the threshold of madness! Ah! and it is -not only the curfew-bell--nor the compulsory attendance at chapel--nor -the long, dark cowls,--it is not all this alone,” continued the -Brother, now speaking with solemn earnestness;--“but it is that we are -watched by spies--watched in all our movements within or without the -walls,--watched to be caught tripping, be it never so lightly--in order -that we may be punished--or perhaps expelled, to make room for some one -whom the Master or any other authority is anxious to provide for. The -surgeon is a spy upon us--the porter is a spy upon us--all the nurses -are spies upon us; and what is worse,” added Mr. Scales, now sinking -his voice to an ominous whisper, and bending his head forward so as -almost to reach the captain’s ear with his lips,--“and what is worse,” -he repeated, bitterly but still in that low tone,--“we are spies upon -each other!” - -Captain O’Blunderbuss started, and surveyed his new friend with -astonishment. - -“I do not mean to say that I am a spy upon the rest,--nor will I -assert that we are all spies with regard to each other,” resumed -Mr. Scales: “but this I declare--that there are many inmates of the -place who do enact the part of spies against their fellows. Some -wish to curry favour with the Master, Archdeacon Hale--others carry -their tittle-tattle to the surgeon;--some gossip of their Brethren -to the manciple, or steward--others endeavour to worm themselves -into the good graces of even the cook;--and all the nurses, with -scarcely an exception, are the spies of the matron. I tell you, sir, -that there is a monstrous system of supervision and _espionnage_ -in existence within these walls;--and one Brother cannot talk as a -friend to another--because he is afraid that he may be all the time -making revelations to an individual who will betray him! We have no -confidence in each other--we are all afraid of one another. There is -not such a thing as a good-natured chat and harmless conversation -in the Charter House. If you make the most common-place observation -upon things the most indifferent, Brother Gray, or Brother Jones, or -Brother Jenkins will shake his head knowingly, as if he saw something -covert and mysteriously significant at the bottom of the remark. But -wherefore does such a state of things prevail in the Charter House, -you will enquire;--and perhaps you will observe that if the Brethren -enact the part of spies upon each other, they alone are to blame for -making themselves miserable. Pause, however--and reflect that it is -all the fault of the authorities. _They_ encourage this contemptible -tittle-tattle--_they_ show favour to the poor silly old dotards who -carry them tidings of all the complaints, expressions of discontent, -or occasional instances of convivial excess which occur on the part -of the rest. These spies are favoured by the authorities: the others -know it, and become spies themselves;--and thus they all spy upon each -other, even as the Jesuits do in obedience to the rules of their Order. -Oh! the mean and contemptible littleness of mind which such a state of -things engenders! I am sick--disgusted, Captain O’Blunderbuss, when I -think of it.” - -“Be Jasus! and well you may be, my dear frind!” cried the gallant -gentleman. “But who is the governor, d’ye say?” - -“Archdeacon Hale is the Master, as he is called--Archdeacon Hale, the -notorious pluralist who fattens upon the loaves and fishes of the -Church, without ever having done a single thing to render him deserving -of such fine preferment and such large emoluments. He it is who -presides over this Protestant monkery,--who enforces in the nineteenth -century the grinding discipline of the sixteenth,--who moves the whole -machinery of _espionnage_, and rules us as a mitred abbot was wont to -sway his Romish brotherhood. If a gentleman, reduced by adversity, -once enters those walls as an inmate, he must resign himself to the -treatment of a pauper. The authorities look upon us in that light; and -the servants behave to us accordingly. The very porter will sometimes -call us by our Christian or surnames, without the prefatory _Mister_. -If the surgeon visit us, it is evident that he considers himself to -be doing us a great favour--just as you may suppose that the medical -man belonging to an Union of Parishes behaves towards the pauper -invalids requiring his services. Should the Matron have occasion to -call upon us, it is with all the airs of a fine lady--she who curtseys -and does not dare sit down in the presence of the Archdeacon’s wife! -The manciple, or steward, is likewise a great man;--and woe to the -Poor Brother who does not receive _him_ with all possible respect. The -nurses attend upon us in a slovenly, negligent manner; and we dare -not complain nor remonstrate--for we know that they are spies ready -to report us for every incautious word that we may utter, or even to -_invent_ charges against us. It was but the other day that one of the -inmates--a poor old man of nearly seventy--_did_ venture to complain of -the shameful neglect which he experienced at the hands of his nurse. -What was the consequence? She made a counter-charge, to the effect -that he had taken liberties with her! The woman’s statement--her -unsupported statement was believed in preference to the denial and the -complaint of the old man, and he was expelled the Charter House for six -months--turned out upon the wide world to live how he could, or die as -he might![10] Oh! you have no idea of the tremendous tyranny that is -perpetrated within these walls, where all is so silent and all appears -to be so serene and tranquil! A short time ago a Brother, driven -to despair by the horrors of the place, went away--took an obscure -lodging--and put an end to his life by means of poison. The authorities -hushed up the matter as well as they could--prevented the interference -of the Coroner--and had the man buried within three days from the -moment of his self-destruction.[11] These are all facts, sir--stubborn -facts; and the public should know them. Yes--the public should learn -that there are eighty old men dwelling in a monastic institution in the -very heart of London--enduring a discipline as severe, and subject to -a system as despotic and oppressive as in the olden times and in those -very cloistral establishments which Henry the Eighth destroyed! The -public should be informed that then eighty old men are the victims of -ecclesiastical tyranny, and that they are compelled to endure neglect -and even insult at the hands of the very servants who are so liberally -paid to attend upon them.” - -“Be the power-r-s! it’s a bur-r-ning shame!” cried Captain -O’Blunderbuss: “and what’s worse of all, is that it’s the parsons -who are your governors and by consequence your opprissors in this -establisment. Bad luck to ’em, say I!” - -“A good parson is a most estimable, as well as a most necessary -character in society,” said Mr. Scales; “and this every sensible man -must admit. But an intolerant, illiberal, tyrannical parson is the -greatest curse that can be inflicted upon a community. Such is our -case--such is our misfortune. We have half-a-dozen parsons belonging -to the institution; and their main object is to get all the loaves and -fishes to themselves. Though they rule us with a rod of iron, they -do not mind breaking the regulations themselves. For instance, if a -Poor Brother remains away from chapel without the surgeon’s leave, or -returns home a little after hours in the evening, he is reported and -fined--fined out of the beggarly pittance of seven pounds ten shillings -a quarter allowed him to purchase tea, sugar, milk, and the many other -necessaries which the establishment does not supply. But though the -regulations specify in distinct terms that the Master is to reside -constantly upon the premises, he laughs at the enactments, and passes -weeks or months together in the country. No fine--no punishment for -him! Who would dare to talk of calling the Very Reverend Archdeacon -Hale over the coals? But who does _not_ hesitate to kick Poor Brother -Gray, or Poor Brother Jones, or Poor Brother Scales from pillar -to post, and from post to pillar, if he be caught tripping in the -slightest degree?” - -“Jist now, me frind,” exclaimed Captain O’Blunderbuss, looking -particularly fierce, “ye assured me that ye hadn’t an inimy in the -wor-r-ld: but it sames pritty clare to me that I must be afther -punching the head of your Archdeacon--or manciple--or porter--or some -one, jist to revinge your wrongs and create a little sinsation for the -Poor Brothers, as ye call yourselves.” - -“My dear fellow, do nothing mad or rash!” cried Mr. Scales, positively -believing at the moment that the formidable Irishman was about to -declare war against the authorities of the institution, and that -he would experimentalise with his fists upon the first of those -functionaries who might chance to come in his way. “All that I have -been telling you is sacred between you and me;--and as a man of honour, -I must appeal to you----” - -“Be Jasus! and if it’s to me honour-r-r ye appale,” interrupted the -captain, slapping his left breast with the palm of his right hand, -“I’ll not brathe a wor-rd to a sowl that I’m acquainted with any -gravances at all, at all. But, remember, if the time should come when -ye may feel inclined to administher a thrilling dhrubbing or so to any -of thim spalpeens of whom we’ve been talking----” - -“Hush!” cried Mr. Scale?, suddenly: “some one is ascending the stairs. -Let us pretend to be speaking on matters quite indifferent.” - -“With all my heart!” said the captain: and, elevating his voice for the -behoof of the person who was approaching the room from the stairs, he -exclaimed, “Yes--’tis a very fine mornin’, Misther Scales--a very fine -mornin’ indeed!”--just as if, in the natural course of things, he would -have made, after a visit of nearly three hours, the remark with which a -conversation is usually commenced. - -Mr. Scales burst out laughing at this display of his new friend’s -ingenuity; and the captain laughed heartily likewise--though he knew -not precisely at what. - -In the midst of this cachinnation, the door opened, and the nurse, or -charwoman, entered to lay the cloth for dinner. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLIX. - -A STRANGE NARRATIVE. - - -The nurse was a tall, middle-aged, powerfully-built woman, with -brawny arms, and a countenance that indicated a slight affection for -an occasional drop of “something short.” In fact, it was observed -by the Brethren on whom she waited, that she never looked sulky when -requested to repair to the public-house to order any thing in the -shape of beer or spirits; but if entrusted with an errand of another -kind--such as the purchase of half a quire of writing-paper or a stick -of sealing-wax--it was a very great chance if she would be seen any -more until the next day. Her manners were of the free-and-easy school; -and she was accustomed to address the Poor Brothers in a half-pitying, -half-patronising style, as if they were patients in a hospital or in -the infirmary of a debtors’ gaol. If wearied, she would unhesitatingly -seat herself without being asked, and glide imperceptibly into a -familiar kind of discourse, while wiping the perspiration from her -rubicund face with her blue checked cotton apron; and if it were in the -cold weather, she would wait upon her masters with a black bonnet, like -an inverted japan coal scuttle, on her head--the propriety of leaving -the tegumentary article in the passage outside, never for a moment -striking the ingenuous and simple-minded creature. - -If this excellent woman had any special failing,--besides such little -faults as drunkenness, inattention, slovenliness, cool impudence, and -deep hypocrisy,--it was a propensity to gossip and a love of scandal. -If she were only carrying a pail down the stairs, and met another nurse -with a pail coming up the stairs, they must both set down their pails -on the landing, and stop to have a quarter of an hour’s chat on the -affairs of their respective masters. Then one would whisper how Poor -Brother Smith was the meanest skin-flint on the face of the earth; and -the other would declare that it was impossible for him to be worse than -Poor Brother Webb, who was always complaining and yet never gave her -even so much as a drop of gin;--and in this manner the two women would -unburthen their minds, to the sad waste of their time and the neglect -of those whom they were well paid to render comfortable. But Mrs. -Pitkin--for that was the name of the nurse who waited on Mr. Scales -and the other gentlemen living in the chambers opening from the same -staircase,--Mrs. Pitkin, we say, was a more inveterate gossip than any -other charwoman in the place; and, as a matter of course, when she -had no trifling truths to retail or make much of, she deliberately -and coolly invented a pack of lies, purporting to be the most recent -sayings and doings of her masters. The consequence was, that a great -deal of mischief resulted at times from these playful exercises of Mrs. -Pitkin’s imaginative qualities; and more than one poor Brother was -looked upon as an habitual drunkard, or as a sad old fellow amongst -the women, without any other ground for the entertainment of such an -opinion than the mysterious whispers of Mrs. Pitkin. - -Well, it was this same Mrs. Pitkin who made her appearance, as already -described, to lay Mr. Scales’s cloth and get the dinner ready. - -“What o’clock is it, nurse?” asked Mr. Scales suspiciously. - -“Only a little after two,” she replied: but scarcely were the words -uttered, when the Charter House bell proclaimed the hour of three. -“Well, I’m sure!” she cried, affecting the profoundest astonishment; “I -never could have believed it were so late. Deary me! deary me! But it’s -all through that disagreeable Mr. Yapp, who would have his cupboard -washed out this morning--though I told him it wasn’t near six months -since he had it done last.” - -“Well--where have you put the potatoes to boil?” demanded Mr. Scales. - -“The taturs, sir? Lor, sir--did you order taturs?” asked Mrs. Pitkin, -now pretending to seem more astounded than ever. “Well, I’m sure I -thought as how you said you’d have your chops without any weggitables -at all!” - -“Chops!” repeated Mr. Scales, now waxing positively wroth: “I ordered -steaks----” - -“Steeks!” cried the woman, holding up her hands as if in amazement. -“Why--how could I ever have misunderstood you so? But it’s no matter--I -can just as well get steeks as chops; and one don’t take much longer -cooking than another.” - -“Then, am I to understand that you have as yet got neither chops nor -steaks?” asked Mr. Scales, subduing his anger as much as possible. - -“Lor, sir! how could I go to the butcher’s when there’s three of my -masters is inwalids and dines in their own rooms to-day? But I’ll be -off at once--and you shall have dinner in a jiffey, I can promise you!” - -Thus speaking, the woman walked lazily out of the room; and when the -door was closed behind her, Mr. Scales, turning to the captain, said; -“Now you perceive how we Poor Brothers are waited upon by these nurses. -You heard me give her specific orders to have a steak and potatoes -ready for us at two. She comes in at three, and has totally forgotten -all about the dinner--for _that_ is the English of it. And yet I dare -not complain against her: I dare not even speak harshly to the woman’s -face. But should you not imagine that, after her neglectful conduct, -she would make all possible haste to get the meal ready? No such thing! -Look there,” continued Mr. Scales, motioning Captain O’Blunderbuss -to the window: “she has fallen in with another nurse, and they are -stopping to have a gossip. Now they are going out together; and before -we shall see Mrs. Pitkin again, she will have paid a tolerably long -visit with her companion to the bar of the Fox and Anchor.” - -“Be Jasus! and shall I be afther her, my dear frind?” demanded Captain -O’Blunderbuss, rushing towards the door. - -“It is useless,” said Mr. Scales, holding him back: “we must have -patience. But do you see that old man, standing apart from the rest----” - -“And laning on a stick?” cried the captain. - -“The same,” returned the good-natured and communicative Brother. -“Observe how pensive--how melancholy he seems! That is Brother -Johnson--late Alderman and once Lord Mayor of London.” - -“Be Jasus! and I ricollict!” exclaimed the captain: “’tis the hero of -the Romford Bank affair.” - -“Precisely so,” responded Mr. Scales. “And now do you perceive that -short, stout, elderly gentleman, leaning on the arm of a friend from -outside----” - -“He walks as if he was blind,” interrupted the captain. - -“And blind he unfortunately is,” said Mr. Scales: “but not irremediably -so. There is every prospect that, with care and good medical advice, -he will recover his sight. He is a man who has made some noise in the -world--but with high honour to himself: in a word, he is Valcrieff, the -celebrated dramatic author.” - -“And a most rispictable-looking gintleman he is,” observed the captain. -“I’ve laughed many times at his farces, and little thought I should -iver have the pleasure of seeing the writer-r himself, even at a -disthance.” - -“There is one inmate of this establishment,” said Mr. Scales, quitting -the window and returning to his seat--an example followed by the -gallant officer,--“there is one inmate whose early history is very -peculiar; and the most extraordinary circumstance connected with -the matter is that he believes the events of his younger days to be -entirely unknown and unsuspected within these walls. I should not point -him out to you, even were he amongst the loungers in the court at this -moment: neither shall I mention his name--or rather the name by which -he is here known. But I may state that thirty years ago I knew him by -the name of Macpherson. We met in Paris, shortly after the peace--and -he was living, with a beautiful French woman as his mistress, in very -handsome apartments. Her name was Augustine; and she certainly was the -most lovely creature I ever saw in my life. Macpherson adored her; and -while he believed that she worshipped him in return, her infidelity -was notorious amongst all his friends. He had succeeded to a small -fortune, by the death of an uncle; and, on visiting Paris, had fallen -in with this young lady, whose charms immediately enthralled him. She -was a banker’s cast-off mistress, and was glad to ensnare a handsome -English gentleman in her meshes. Her extravagance was unbounded; and -in less than a year Macpherson’s resources were completely exhausted. -It would appear that Augustine at that period introduced to him a -Frenchman whose real name was Legrand, but whom she passed off as -her brother. This Legrand was elegant in manners and agreeable in -conversation, as well as handsome in person; but he was unprincipled, -dissipated, and of broken fortunes. From all I subsequently learnt, and -from the knowledge I had of Macpherson’s character, I feel convinced -that Legrand made my English friend his dupe and victim; and that -Macpherson was entirely innocent of any intentional complicity. Certain -however it is that one morning I was thunder-struck by the tidings -that Macpherson had been arrested on a charge of forgery. I hastened -to him in prison; and he declared most solemnly that he was guiltless. -It was true that he had negotiated the instrument which was discovered -to be fictitious: but he assured me that Legrand had induced him to -do so. The examination before the Judge of Instruction led to the -arrest of Legrand; and it was confidently hoped by Macpherson and his -friends that the real truth would transpire at the trial. But when -the case came on, Augustine--the faithless, treacherous, ungrateful -Augustine--gave such evidence as entirely to exonerate Legrand and fix -all the guilt upon Macpherson. She committed perjury; but her tale -was believed,--for it was consistent, though false--delivered with -plausibility, though based on the most damnable deceit. In fact, the -vile woman sacrificed the Englishman whom she had ruined and never -loved, to the French paramour whom she had passed off as her brother; -and Macpherson, being pronounced guilty, was condemned to be exposed -and branded upon a scaffold on the Place de Grêve, and to be afterwards -imprisoned for a period of five years at the galleys at Brest. Myself -and another English gentleman drew up a memorial to the King, setting -forth a variety of circumstances in favour of Macpherson, and imploring -the royal mercy on behalf of our unhappy fellow-countryman. Louis -the Eighteenth referred the petition to the Judges who had condemned -Macpherson, and as they stated that they had taken every thing into -consideration when they pronounced his punishment, the Minister of -Justice and Grace could not hold out to the petitioners any hopes -of a commutation of the sentence. We had endeavoured to obtain the -remission of that portion of the sentence which condemned Macpherson -to be publicly exposed and marked with a red hot iron--but, alas! -this indignity could not be spared the unhappy sufferer. Well, the -fatal morning arrived, when this dread public ceremony was to take -place. Macpherson rose early, and devoted unusual care to his toilet. -His countenance was ghastly pale--his eyes were fixed,--his lips -compressed. He did all he could to appear calm, and endeavoured to meet -his punishment with firmness. But to be condemned for an offence of -which he was innocent;--to see the fairest years of his youth destined -to be passed in a horrible state of servitude;--to know that he was -about to be branded with an infamous mark, which he would carry with -him to the grave,--all this must have been beyond human endurance. -Had he been really guilty, his sufferings would not have been so -acute;--had he deserved his punishment, he would have bowed to those -destinies which he would have thus prepared for himself. But he was -innocent--innocent; and the world did not know it:--only a few faithful -friends consoled him by the assurance that they believed in his -innocence. On the fatal morning which was to consummate his disgrace, -I visited him early; but when I found him so apparently resigned and -calm, I did not offer those consolations which I would otherwise have -tendered, and which were all I had now to offer. - -“It was about eleven o’clock, in the forenoon,” continued Mr. Scales, -“when Macpherson was summoned to the lobby of the prison. Two gendarmes -were waiting there to conduct him to the Place de Grêve, where he -was to remain exposed for two hours, and then be marked. He resigned -himself to their custody, and, accompanied by myself, proceeded towards -the great square where the hideous ceremony was to be performed. -Immense crowds were collected in all the avenues leading to the Place, -which was itself thronged to excess. Two lines of soldiers kept a -pathway clear for the march of the prisoner up to the foot of the -scaffold. He did not cast his eyes downwards:--nor did he glance to the -right or to the left; but he kept them fixed upon the scaffold towards -which he was advancing. He ascended the ladder with a firm step, -accompanied only by the gendarmes; for I was compelled to remain below. -The moment he appeared upon the platform, a tremendous shout arose -from the thousands and thousands of spectators assembled to witness -his punishment; but no indignity of a violent nature was offered to -him. He cast a hurried and anxious glance around: the whole square -seemed literally paved with human faces, which were continued up every -street communicating with the Grêve, as far as he could see. The quay -behind him, the bridges, the windows and roofs of all the houses, and -even the towers of Nôtre Dame and the parapet of the Hotel-de-Ville -were crowded with human countenances. Macpherson remained exposed for -two hours, seated upon a chair on the scaffold, while the populace, -with hyena-yells and laughter, were contemplating him as if he were -a wild beast which they delighted to see, but of which they were -afraid. The idea, whether this penalty were deserved or not, never -entered the head of one single individual in that vast multitude;--all -that they cared about was the man and his punishment--and both were -there! At the expiration of the two hours, the crowd suddenly opened, -and the public executioner, attended by his two sons, appeared at -the foot of the scaffold. One of the lads carried a small iron pot, -at the bottom of which there was a grating: in this vessel was a -bright fire of red hot cinders and charcoal. The other boy carried an -iron implement in his hand. It was like a very small shovel, with a -tolerably long handle. The three wretches ascended the ladder, and the -shouts and the hootings of the mob recommenced with increased violence -as the public functionary bowed jocosely to Macpherson. A horrible -laugh issued from those who stood nearest, and who comprehended the -fashion of the executioner’s salute. This individual then arranged his -_paraphernalia_ in a convenient manner. He placed the brazier close -to the convict’s chair, and put the shovel-looking implement into the -fire. He next proceeded to inform Macpherson that he must take off his -coat and other vestments from his left shoulder. The prisoner obeyed -mechanically. He doffed his coat and his waistcoat on the left side; -and the executioner instantly cut a large square piece out of his -shirt, just above the left shoulder-blade, immediately above the curve -of the shoulder. The most breathless suspense now prevailed; and not -a cry--not a murmur was heard throughout the dense masses of people -wedged together around. ‘Take courage, my boy,’ said the executioner, -half ironically and half in pity; ‘it will only be the affair of a -few moments.’ I heard him make these remarks--for I was close by the -scaffold. He then proceeded to strap the convict tightly down in his -chair, confined his arms and legs, and twisted the cords in such a -manner around his body and the back of the seat that he was rendered as -motionless and powerless as if he were a statue. Ten minutes elapsed, -and the thick part of the iron was by that time red hot. This was the -crowning moment of the whole day’s amusement--an amusement provided -by the law that forbade bull-baits and punishes cruelty to animals! -The executioner stooped down, seized the iron, and applied it to -Macpherson’s flesh--to that bare part which the square cut out of the -shirt had left exposed. The iron hissed on the young man’s shoulder; -and a fearful yell escaped his lips. The iron remained upon the flesh -for two or three instants: the sufferer writhed in agony; but only that -one loud, long, and piercing cry escaped his lips. The implement was -withdrawn;--one of the executioner’s sons placed a cup-full of water -to the convict’s lips, and thus saved him from fainting in the chair. -The cords were then unbound,--the young man’s dress was adjusted,--and -the gendarmes told him that they were ready to convey him back to -prison. As he passed through the dense multitude that had witnessed -his punishment, he now hung down his head--abashed and ashamed. Even -had he not felt the smart of the burn upon his back, the knowledge -that he was branded with the mark of infamy would have been sufficient -thus to humble and subdue him. Women held up their children to gaze -upon him as he passed along;--he heard an old father bid his son take -warning from the example he had just witnessed; and as he emerged from -the crowd, and entered a comparatively deserted street, on his way -back to prison, he caught the following words which were uttered, with -a laugh, by one spectator to another,--‘Oh! there’s the man who has -just been marked!’--‘Marked! eh--and with a scar that he would carry -to his grave!’ thought I, shuddering from head to foot. He returned to -the prison of La Force; and the moment he entered the lobby, he fell -into my arms; for I had walked by his side from the Place de Grêve. -The courage of the man now failed him altogether; and he burst into a -violent passion of grief. The tears flowed in torrents from his eyes; -his breast heaved convulsively. I endeavoured in vain to console him; -and then I thought it best to allow his agony to have full vent, and he -would feel relieved. The truth of this opinion was speedily confirmed; -and, when Macpherson dried his tears, he exclaimed, ‘Now that the first -bitterness of my career of misery is over, I feel nerved and resigned -to encounter the ills which heaven has in store for me.’--‘My dear -friend,’ I said, ‘you must yet hope for many happy years: the term of -your incarceration will soon pass away, and you will then hasten to -England, where friends will be prepared to receive you with open arms, -and enable you to forget the sorrows that will then be over!’--‘Alas!’ -he cried--and the words still ring in my ears,--‘how can I forget all -this degradation and infamy? How can I ever again appear in the great -world, every member of which will have read my trial, and many of -whom have this day seen me writhing beneath the hot iron in the hands -of the public executioner? Even supposing my innocence be eventually -proved, and that all moral infamy be separated from my name, who will -remove the scar from my shoulder? who will not remember that for five -years I shall have herded with the refuse of mankind? who will believe -that, even if guiltless I went to the galleys, uncontaminated I have -been released from them? What father will entrust his daughter to -the convict? what mother will consent to the union of her child with -a man who has been publicly marked upon the scaffold? what brother -would allow his sister, pure and chaste, to link herself to one whose -outset in life has been so horribly characterised as mine? And lastly, -lastly,’ added he, sinking his voice almost to a whisper, and clenching -his fists and grinding his teeth as he spoke,--‘and lastly, who can -remove the deep, deep scar from my heart, even should there be a -physician skilful enough to efface the one upon my shoulder?’--I was -then compelled to take leave of him; and, on the following day, he was -removed to Bicêtre, and lodged with the other convicts who were about -to travel the same road together. He now found that his situation was -wretched indeed. Compelled to associate with men who had been guilty -of the most horrible crimes, and who gloried in their infamy, his -ears were offended with their obscene conversation and their fearful -blasphemies; and he was ill-treated by his fellow prisoners, because he -would not laugh at their jokes or join in their revolting discourse. -If he threatened to complain, he was reviled and mocked. But I shall -hasten to the end of my story--or at least to this part of it. The day -for the departure of the Chain of Galley-Slaves arrived; and I took -leave of my unfortunate friend. He was conducted to Brest, where he -worked on the port for a short time; and then, on account of his good -conduct, he was made a clerk in the office of the Governor. This was -the last account I heard of him while he was at the Galleys; for just -at that period the death of a distant relative called me to England, -and the inheritance of some property was accompanied with the condition -that I should change my name to that of the individual whose fortune -thus devolved upon me. - -“Six years had passed,” continued Mr. Scales,--“six years since the -events which I have just related to you, when accident enabled me -to obtain a complete assurance of that which I had all along fully -believed,--namely, the innocence of Macpherson respecting the forgery. -I was passing down Aldersgate Street late one evening, when a sudden -shower began to fall; and I entered a gate-way for protection, having -no umbrella with me, and there being no hackney-coach stand near. -Almost immediately afterwards, a gentleman in a cloak took refuge -in the same place; but as I was standing farther in the gate-way -than he, and as it was pitch dark there, we did not observe each -other’s countenance. Presently he stepped out into the street to -see if the rain continued; and I noticed that he was accosted by a -female, dressed in gaudy attire, and who murmured something to him -in French, to which he did not however pay immediate attention. But -an exclamation from her lips--an exclamation of surprise, which was -instantly followed by the mention of his name--aroused him from his -reverie. He gazed at the female who thus appeared to recognise him; -and, by the light of the adjacent lamp, the well-known but somewhat -altered countenance of Augustine was revealed to him and myself at the -same time. Amazement rooted me to the spot, and compelled me to become -a listener. ‘What, Augustine!’ cried Macpherson--for he it was: and -all the while my presence was unsuspected.--‘Yes, Augustine--that is -my name!’ said the young lady, somewhat flippantly, ‘But what are you -doing in London?’ she asked immediately afterwards, and in an altered -tone.--‘How can you ask me, Augustine, after my present pursuits or my -future prospects, when you were the principal agent in consummating -my ruin in Paris?’ demanded Macpherson. ‘Oh! you know not the serious -injury--the irreparable injury which you have inflicted upon me. All -my hopes, all my endeavours, have one after another been defeated -and destroyed by the consequences of that fatal period. My life is a -series of misfortunes, of strugglings against adversity, of ups and -downs, of long intervals of misery, with short and distant gleams of -happiness; and this career of sorrows and disappointments, was prepared -and marked out by the infernal schemes of yourself and Legrand. Oh! -inauspicious was the day on which I first became acquainted with you -and the miscreant whom you represented to be your brother?’--‘And will -you believe me when I assure you that I have never known a moment’s -peace since the fatal moment when I bore false evidence against you -in the French tribunal?’ exclaimed Augustine emphatically. ‘I was -compelled to take that step, although repugnant to my feelings; for -I had not then lost all principle,’ she added mournfully. ‘Legrand -possessed such power over me; and I also knew that he was as capable of -sacrificing me as well as yourself to his own interests, if I did not -fall into his views. That false step on my part has reduced me to my -present state of degradation; I became reckless and ceased to sustain -even the appearance of respectability which I had observed while I was -living with you. Legrand was killed in a quarrel at a gambling-house; -and I then became the mistress of----.’--‘Oh! distract me not with a -catalogue of your vices, Augustine,’ exclaimed Macpherson, interrupting -her recital. ‘Can I sympathise with you, who have caused my ruin? can I -commiserate with one whom, were I vindictive, I should crush beneath my -heel? Oh! could you speak to me of the means of redeeming my character, -which is lost--innocent though I am, as well you know,--could you give -me back my peace of mind, my self-respect, my confidence in myself, -the esteem and respect of men, and the enjoyment of an unsullied -name,--could you efface the mark from my shoulder, Augustine, and wipe -from my memory the dread impression of the exposure in the Place de -Grêve with the five long years’ sojourn at the galleys,--could you do -all this, Augustine, I would throw myself at your feet, I would forgive -you the wrongs I have endured, I would almost worship you!’--‘There is -something which may yet be done,’ said Augustine, after a long pause, -‘which would partially remedy the evil, and which would at all events -prove my contrition for the part that I enacted in the matter.’--‘And -what is it that you propose?’ demanded Macpherson: ’to what do you -allude?’--‘I would willingly make a confession which would establish -your innocence, and so far retrieve your character in the eyes of the -world,’ said Augustine.--‘But the world reviles me, and cries shame -upon me, without waiting to ask itself if I am really guilty!’ returned -Macpherson, bitterly.--‘The thinking portion of the community,’ began -the frail woman earnestly, ‘will ever----’.--‘That is a mere idle -phrase, Augustine,’ interrupted Macpherson. ‘There is no thinking -portion, as a complete section, of any community. Ask any individual -singly and alone, if he would scorn and shun a man who had endured an -infamous punishment, but who was innocent of the crime attributed to -him, and he would launch forth into an eulogium of the liberality of -his own views, and indulge in a tirade against the narrow-mindedness -of his neighbours. He would say, “_Prove your innocence, and I will -be your friend._” So would reply every one whom you thus questioned -individually. But take all those persons together--assemble them in one -room--invite them all to a banquet--and then introduce amongst them the -man concerning whom they had singly expressed so much liberality of -opinion; and collectively they would scorn--they would shun him,--they -would hunt him from their company--they would expel him as if he were -infected with a pestilence! Where, then, is the thinking portion of -society? of what men is it composed? who can separate the section from -the mass? Talk no more of proving my innocence, but let me now ask you -a question relative to your own position.’--‘My position!’ repeated -the young woman bitterly; ‘oh! I feel its degradation so thoroughly, -that it appears to me as if every body must see and appreciate it -also! My shame clings to me, like a mass of dingy cobwebs to a wall: -I cannot shake it off; I cannot divest myself of the sense of its -utter loathsomeness; for if I seek to brush it away with one hand, it -clings to the other. I dare not go to church to seek the comforts of -religion:--a prayer in my mouth would be pollution;--I dare not even -implore heaven to change my condition, so thoroughly degraded am I in -my own estimation! And there are some of us--and when I say of _us_, -you will fully comprehend to what sad sisterhood I belong--who are -young, beautiful, and even educated; and from their lips--their red and -inviting lips--issue imprecations and blasphemies at all hours. But -I am not so bad as that;--nor do I drink as they do! God only knows, -however, to what abyss I may fall!’--With these words the wretched -creature hurried away in one direction, while Macpherson slowly -pursued his path in another. I did not think it right to follow him; -for I fancied from the tenour of his bitter outpourings to Augustine, -that he wished to be forgotten by the world, and pass as a stranger -in the mighty city. Well, years and years elapsed; and misfortunes -overtook me. I lost all my property save a very small annuity--a mere -pittance insufficient to keep body and soul together;--and through -the interest of a friend I obtained a berth in the Charter House. To -my surprise I found, on my entrance, that Macpherson was already a -Brother;--and thus, after a separation of five-and-twenty years--for it -is five years ago that I came hither--our destinies cast us into the -same asylum. But, though I recognised him, he knew not me. You must -remember that I had changed my name, and my personal appearance had -undergone an immense alteration; and therefore it was not singular that -he should fail to perceive in me the friend who had consoled him in -his misfortunes at Paris in 1816. I have never revealed myself to him -within these walls--and never shall. It would doubtless embitter his -sorrowful existence were he aware that his secret was known to a living -soul in the establishment which his necessities have compelled him to -make his home, and from which he will remove to no other abode--save -the tomb. Here, then, we dwell--he brooding over the undying sorrow -that fills his heart,--I not daring to call him friend and console him.” - -At this moment the clock struck four, an hour had elapsed since Mrs. -Pitkin had departed with a promise to return “in a jiffey;”--and she -now reappeared, her countenance much flushed, and her breath exhaling -the strongest perfume of the juniper berry. - -She however had her excuse: the matron had sent for her on particular -business! - -“If so, it must have been at the Fox and Anchor,” muttered Mr. -Scales: but perceiving that she had brought up a cooked steak in a -covered dish, he suffered himself to be appeased by the prospect of -dinner;--and it was agreed both by himself and the captain to dispense -with potatoes, Mrs. Pitkin having again quite forgotten that they were -ordered. - -The repast was now served up; and it must be taken as a proof of -contrition for previous neglect on the part of the worthy woman, that -when she sallied forth for the beer and spirits she only remained a -short half-hour away--it being usually calculated in the Charter House -that a commission which one might perform for himself in five minutes, -occupies a nurse exactly fifty-five to accomplish. - -At last Mr. Scales and the captain were enabled to make themselves -comfortable; and when the dinner-things were cleared away, hot-water -was speedily procured by the aid of a batchelor’s kettle. The poteen -was first-rate;--the two gentlemen were in excellent spirits; and the -hilarity of the evening was soon increased by the arrival of Mr. Frank -Curtis, who had duly received his friend’s letter at Mr. Bubbleton -Styles’s office in the City. - - - - -CHAPTER CL. - -THE COLONEL AND THE CAPTAIN. - - -The captain related to Frank all the numerous and varied incidents -which had occurred during the forenoon of that eventful day; and the -listener not unfrequently burst into shouts of laughter, as the gallant -gentleman described the most ludicrous part of his adventures--we mean -the little episode of the escape from the sheriff’s-officers in Mrs. -Rudd’s garments. - -Frank, in his turn, gave his gallant friend a hurried but significant -intimation that Mr. Bubbleton Styles had “come down” with ten -sovereigns--a figure of speech implying that the City gentleman had -advanced that amount for the special behoof of Captain O’Blunderbuss -and Mr. Curtis. - -The first use the Irishman made of this subsidy, was then and -there--fairly and cheerfully--to refund to Mr. Scales the monies -advanced by the worthy Brother in the morning; and this little -arrangement increased the good feelings of that gentleman towards his -new friends, and enhanced the harmony of the evening. - -By degrees, as the good liquor produced its exhilarating effect, the -captain began to talk magniloquently of his Irish estates, “which were -unfor-rtunately locked up in Chancery,”--Mr. Curtis told a great many -wonderful stories of his intimacy with Princesses and Duchesses, “when -he was in France,”--and Mr. Scales related a number of interesting -anecdotes connected with the Charter House, and which had a signal -advantage over the narratives of his companions, inasmuch as the former -were all true, and the latter all false. - -In the midst of the conviviality a knock at the door was heard; and -on Mr. Scales exclaiming “Come in,” the invitation was obeyed by a -gentleman who was immediately introduced to the captain and Frank -Curtis as Colonel Tickner. - -The new-comer, who was an inmate of the Charter House, was a man of -middle height, and was much older than he thought fit to appear to be; -for by the aid of false teeth, a handsome wig, and whiskers well dyed, -he was enabled to pass himself off as “just over fifty”--whereas his -years had certainly numbered a good fifteen in addition to the amount -specified. He was well dressed, and had rather an imposing exterior: -but there was an unpleasant expression about the eyes, and in the lines -around the mouth, which gave his countenance a sinister aspect, and -denoted low canning, duplicity, and artfulness. - -“Sit down, colonel,” said Mr. Scales, when the ceremony of introduction -had taken place; “and mix a glass for yourself. I told the captain you -were sure to come--and he was most anxious to see you; for I know that -military men are particularly fond of meeting each other.” - -This remark was made with a sly touch of satire, Mr. Scales glancing -the while at the captain, as much as to say, “Now the ice is broken, -and you can unmask him;”--for as sincerely as the worthy Brother did -_not_ believe Tickner to be a military man at all, so in proportion was -he convinced that O’Blunderbuss _was_. - -The colonel looked uneasy for a moment, while the captain, whose -natural impudence was increased by his potations, put a bold face upon -the matter, and eyed Tickner with lurking ferocity. - -“And pray, sir, in what rig’ment had you the honour-r-r to ser-r-rve?” -demanded the Irishman at length, with a menacing reverberation of the -ominous r’s. - -“Oh! in several,” returned the colonel, mixing his toddy without -raising his eyes. “Might I ask the same question of you, captain?” - -“Be Jasus! and ye may ask, sure enough, my frind,” exclaimed -O’Blunderbuss: “but it would be more polite on your par-r-t if you was -afther answering my quaries first;--and thin it’s meself that’ll give -ye my whole pidigree from the beginning to the ind of that same.” - -“I should beg to observe, sir,” said the colonel, stirring up his -liquor, on which he still kept his eyes fixed, “that it would be more -in accordance with the rules of military etiquette if you were to give -the first explanations--seeing that I have the honour to hold a higher -rank than yourself in her Majesty’s service.” - -[Illustration] - -“And, be the holy poker-r!” ejaculated Captain O’Blunderbuss, flying -into a passion: “that remains to be proved! There’s many a discharged -cor-r-poral that dubs himself colonel, to my knowledge.” - -“And there’s many a discharged cad to an omnibus that calls himself----” - -But Colonel Tickner suddenly stopped short: for Captain O’Blunderbuss -started from his seat, and, grasping the poker, exclaimed, “Be this -holy insthrument, I shall be afther daling ye a gintle tap on the head, -my frind, if ye dar-r to utther a wor-r-rd derogatory to my honour-r-r!” - -Colonel Tickner stared in ghastly silence at the ferocious Irishman; -and to add to the dismay of the former, Frank Curtis, who relished the -proceeding hugely, whispered hastily in his ear, “For God’s sake, don’t -provoke him! He’s the most terrible duellist in all London; he shot the -Duke of Boulogne last year in Paris!” - -“I really----did not----in fact, it was very far from my -intentions----” stammered the discomfited colonel, casting a glance -toward the door, to ascertain if there were any possibility of escape: -but, alas! _that_ was out of the question. - -“Nothing but a mating, or the most abjict apology will suffice!” -vociferated Captain O’Blunderbuss, perceiving that he had completely -over-awed his antagonist. “Frank, my frind, run over to our lodgings -and fetch my pisthols--in the box covered with green baize, you -know--and, be the power-rs! we’ll fight it out across the table, each -houlding the ind of a handkerchief:--that is to say, with Mr. Scales’ -lave and, per-r-mission.” - -“Oh! I shan’t interfere,” said the red-faced Brother enjoying the scene -as much as Mr. Frank Curtis, who rose from his chair as if to depart -for the purpose of executing the little commission respecting the -pistols. - -“Really, gentlemen,” stammered Colonel Tickner, glancing in -bewilderment and dismay from one to the other: “I--I am sure--I did -not----” - -“Did ye mane to insult me?” demanded the captain, brandishing the -poker, while his aspect seemed to acquire increased ferocity every -moment. - -“No--no--certainly not,” responded the colonel, catching at the hope -of extricating himself from the deadly perils which appeared to hem him -in around. - -“And ye acknowledge yourself to be a liar and a scounthrel?” -vociferated the terrible Gorman O’Blunderbuss. - -“Why, my dear sir--as for that----” - -“Don’t ‘_dear sir-r_’ me!” interrupted the Irishman, fiercely, -“Acknowledge yourself to be a liar and a scounthrel--and on my part -I shall be ready to acknowledge in retur-r-n that ye’ve made such an -apology as a gintleman ought under the circumstances.” - -“Oh! yes--mutual concessions,” observed Frank with a wink at Mr. -Scales, who could scarcely keep, his countenance through a violent -inclination to laugh. - -“A liar and a scounthrel!” repeated the captain, as he advanced in -a threatening manner towards the wretched victim of this egregious -bullyism. - -“Well, my dear sir--if it will satisfy you--and, as your friend -observes, on the principle of mutual concessions--I--I----” - -“Out with it, man!” roared the captain: “don’t keep us waiting all -day--for the hot wather is getting could----” - -“You’d better not provoke him any more,” whispered Frank: “or I shall -be compelled to run and fetch the pistols--unless you prefer having -your brains dashed out with the poker.” - -“Oh! murder! ejaculated the miserable Tickner, turning deadly pale at -the awful alternative suggested: “give me time to breathe, Captain -O’Blunderbuss----” - -“Not a moment!” cried the ferocious gentleman thus appealed to: “I must -have complate satisfaction before ye brathe another puff!” - -“Well, then--I admit that I--I am--what you said,” returned the colonel. - -“Repate the words! A liar and a scounthrel!” - -“A liar and--and--a scoundrel,” echoed the humbled and trembling -wretch, wishing that the floor would open and swallow him up--or that -any other equally improbable casualty might occur, so long as it should -remove him from the presence of the ferocious Irishman. - -“Ye hear his wor-rds, my frinds?” cried the captain: “he declar-rs -himself to be a liar and a scounthrel. And now, as a man of honour-r, I -confiss myself completely satisfied. The apology is most handsome--and -such as reflicts the highest credit on him as a gintleman. Give me your -hand, sir-r!” - -The colonel diffidently extended the member thus demanded; and the -gallant Irishman shook it with such hearty good will, that its owner -winced and writhed with the pain of the iron pressure. - -“And now we’ll spake no more on milithary matthers,” said Gorman -O’Blunderbuss; “but dhrink potheen at our aise, and converse on all -kinds of things.” - -By this little arrangement the captain got rid of the necessity of -giving any explanation relative to his own military career; and Colonel -Tickner, speedily forgetting the deep humiliation to which the bullying -character of the Irishman and his own craven spirit had subjected him, -paid his respects with so much earnestness to the whiskey, that Frank -was soon compelled to sally forth and procure another bottle--Mrs. -Pitkin having returned to her own domicile under the plea of being -“very ill,” which in plain English meant “very drunk.” - -The conviviality was maintained until half-past ten, when Captain -O’Blunderbuss and Frank Curtis rose to take their leave of Mr. Scales -and the colonel. But before they departed, the Irishman renewed -his expressions of gratitude and his protestations of friendship -to the worthy Brother who had manifested so much kindness towards -him;--and, highly delighted with their evening’s entertainment, the two -“inseparables” walked off arm-in-arm together. - -Now how gloomy--how truly monastic appeared the Charter House, as -they traversed the spacious court, bounded by the low, uniform ranges -of buildings. Most of the windows were dark; but here and there a -flickering light was gleaming--feeble and faint as the spirit of the -old man for whose long lonely hours even that poor candle was a species -of companion. - -In spite of the natural liveliness of the two friends’ dispositions--in -spite of the whiskey they had imbibed--they shuddered as the aspect of -the place, in the more than semi-obscurity of the starlight, seemed -cold and cheerless to the view,--aye, and struck so to their very -hearts. - -Their footsteps raised echoes which sounded hollow and gloomy, as if -coming from the midst of tombs; and if they paused for a moment, the -silence was so deep--so profound, it seemed impossible that the place -was in the very midst of the mightiest metropolis in the world. - -The feelings of the two friends were such, that they could not have -uttered a ribald word nor given vent to a jest or a laugh, as they -traversed an enclosure where the stillness was so awful and the -cloistral aspect of the scene so coldly, sternly monastic. - -Had their way lay through a vast cathedral, at the silent midnight -hour, they could not have experienced a sense of more painful -oppression; nor would a deeper gloom have fallen upon their spirits. - -It was a great relief when the porter closed the wicket of the -massive gates behind them;--and as they hastily skirted Charterhouse -Square--keeping a good look-out for fear of unpleasant prowlers in that -region--the captain whispered to his companion, “Well, Frank--and, be -Jasus! I’d sooner be knocked about the wor-r-ld as you and I are at -times, me boy, than take up my quar-r-ters altogether in that place. -It’s all very pritty, no doubt, while one has his frinds with him; but -whin they’re gone, Frank, it strikes me that the loneliness becomes tin -thousand times more lonely.” - -“I’m just of the same opinion, captain,” returned Mr. Curtis. “And now -where shall we put up for the night?” - -“Be the power-rs! and we’ve cash in our pockets--aad it’s afther -pathronising some tavern we’ll be until the morning, whin we’ll take -fresh lodgings,” exclaimed the gallant gentleman, his naturally good -spirits reviving, as he found himself safe in Aldersgate Street, and no -suspicious-looking characters dodging him in the rear. - - - - -CHAPTER CLI. - -THE CALM.--THE TEMPEST. - - -Return we now to Charles Hatfield and Perdita. - -The gorgeous lustre of a Parisian summer morning streamed through the -muslin curtains of a handsome chamber in the hotel at which they had -taken up their abode: and the glory of that sun-light shone upon the -nuptial couch, where the newly-wedded pair still slept. - -The night of bliss had passed; and, wearied with love’s dalliance, -they had fallen into a deep slumber, the dreams of which were soft and -voluptuous, and gave no forewarning of a coming storm. - -The long, luxuriant, deep brown hair of Perdita flowed over the snowy -whiteness of the pillow; and the dark, thick, slightly curling fringes -of the closed eye-lids reposed on cheeks flashed with the ecstatic -nature of her visions. - -A gentle smile played upon her moist lips of richest red,--a smile that -subdued the expression of resoluteness which her countenance was wont -to wear, and gave an indescribable charm of serenity and sweetness to -features usually indicative of such strong passions and such fierce -desires. - -But those passions were now lulled to rest: those desires were for the -time assuaged;--and happiness filled the soul of the sleeping woman. - -One fine, white, and robust arm lay outside the coverlid: the other -supported the head, or rather half embraced the neck of her young and -handsome husband. - -The sunbeams seemed to kiss her flowing hair,--seemed to play with the -exquisitely modelled arm that lay completely exposed,--seemed also to -revel in the treasures of her naked bosom, so firm, so rounded, and so -regularly heaving. - -Sleep likewise sealed the eyes of Charles Hatfield: smiles likewise -played open his lips;--and his countenance appeared a perfect specimen -of god-like beauty incarnate in man. - -Yes: they were a handsome pair;--and so far there was a remarkable -fitness in their union--but in naught beside! - -In perfect happiness had they sunk into the profound slumber which -still enwrapped them;--for, on the one side, Charles Hatfield had -become possessed of that woman of glorious loveliness who had -enchanted--captivated--enthralled his very soul;--and, on the other, -Perdita believed herself to have gained the title of _Vicountess -Marston_ already, and to have that of _Countess of Ellingham_ in -perspective. - -It was nine o’clock in the morning--the morning succeeding the bridal -night: and thus were the newly-wedded pair still sleeping in the -nuptial couch. - -Presently the door opened, and Rosalie entered the room,--Rosalie, -naturally so gay, blythe, and full of spirits--but now with a cloud -upon her brow, and evident anxiety in her manner. - -Advancing towards the bed, she paused--gazed for a few moments upon -the sleepers--and murmured to herself in French, “How handsome and -how serenely happy they appear to be! What a pity it is to awake -them!”--then, after another short pause, she said hurriedly, “And yet -it must be--for _the stranger_ is imperative.” - -Thus speaking, she touched Charles Hatfield gently on the arm; and -he woke up, with a start. But Rosalie immediately put her finger to -her lip to enjoin silence; and the young man, now completely aroused, -surveyed her with mingled surprise and anger,--surprise at her -mysterious behaviour, and anger at her intrusion. - -“Hush!” she said, in a low but emphatic tone. “A gentleman insists upon -seeing you--and, as his manner is so curious, I thought I had better -awake you _first_, sir,” she added, glancing significantly towards her -mistress, who still slept on. - -“A gentleman!” repeated Charles, a suspicion--almost a certainty of the -real truth flashing to his mind: “describe him!”--and he also spoke in -a whisper, though with emphasis. - -Rosalie gave a hurried sketch of the individual who so imperiously -demanded an immediate interview with her master; and Charles found that -his conjecture was correct--too correct, indeed! - -“Go to him--and say that I shall be with him in five minutes,” he -observed, in a tone expressive of deep vexation;--and Rosalie retired. - -Charles immediately rose from the couch, but without awaking Perdita; -and, having hastily slipped on some clothing, he proceeded to the -sitting-room belonging to the suite of apartments which he had hired at -the hotel. - -He now found himself face to face with his father! - -Mr. Hatfield was pacing the parlour in an agitated manner, when -the young man entered;--his countenance was very pale, and wore an -expression of deep care: indeed, Charles was shocked when his parent, -turning round to accost him, thus presented to his view an aspect so -profoundly wretched--so eloquently woe-begone. - -The young man, during the few minutes which had intervened from -the time that Rosalie quitted his bed-chamber until the instant -when he repaired to the sitting-room, had nerved himself with all -his energy--braced himself with all his courage--mustered all his -resolution, to undergo what he knew must prove a painful trial; for he -expected accusations of disobedience and ingratitude--reproaches for -unmanly conduct towards Lady Frances Ellingham,--in fine, a repetition -of those scenes which had bitterly occurred at the Earl’s mansion in -Pall Mall, and which, characterised by so much misconception as they -had been, had materially tended to diminish the authority of the father -and the respect of the son. - -Yes: he had made up his mind to bear upbraidings and encounter the most -painful remonstrances;--he had even resolved to recriminate in the old -style--reproaching his father for the wrongs which he imagined himself -to have sustained at his hands relative to the secrets attendant upon -his birth and social position. But when he beheld the expression -of deep care and the ashy pallor which sate upon that father’s -countenance, his rebellious heart softened--his stern resolves gave -way--his better feelings once more stirred within him;--and all on a -sudden it struck him that there must be some reason for his parent’s -altered appearance, of a nature more grave--more serious, than the mere -grief which this runaway match could possibly occasion. - -The thought that evil had happened to his mother flashed to his -mind;--and in an instant all his imaginary wrongs were forgotten. - -“Father--dear father,” he exclaimed, in a tone of earnest appeal; “keep -me not in suspense! My mother----” - -“Is as well, I hope, as under circumstances she can possibly be,” -interrupted Mr. Hatfield, in a hollow and sombre tone. - -“Thank God!” cried Charles, fervently. - -“Is it possible that you still love your mother?” demanded Mr. -Hatfield, whose countenance brightened up in the faintest degree, but -in a manner as sickly as if the gleam of a dying lamp fell upon the -rigid features of a corpse. - -“Is it possible that you can ask me the question?” exclaimed the young -man. “Oh! you know that I love my mother--my dear mother,” he repeated, -as a thousand proofs of her affection for him suddenly rose up in -his mind--rapidly as the spell of an enchanter might cause flowers -to appear upon the surface of a stern and arid waste. “And you, my -father,” he continued, taking his parent’s hand, and pressing it to -his lips, “I love you also--in spite of what you may suppose to be my -disobedient conduct!” - -“No--no--you love me not!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, hastily withdrawing -his hand which for a few moments he had abandoned to his son: “else -never would you have acted thus. But tell me, Charles--tell me,--for -I did not condescend to question your flippant French servant,--tell -me--have I come too late to save you?--are you married to that young -woman----” - -“If you mean, father, whether Perdita Fitzhardinge is now my wife,” -began Charles, drawing himself up proudly, and speaking in a -resolute--almost indignant tone,--“I----” - -“Perdita Fitzhardinge!” repeated the unhappy man, staggering as if -from a sudden blow dealt by an invisible hand: “oh! then ’tis indeed -she--and all my worst fears are confirmed! Villiers was right--and -those officers were right also!” - -“What mean you, father!” demanded Charles, now seriously -alarmed--though knowing not what to think. “You speak of a young lady -of ravishing beauty--elegant manners--spotless character----” - -“Charles Hatfield, is she your wife?” asked the parent, now advancing -close up to the young man, and pressing his arm so violently with the -strong spasm which convulsed his fingers that Charles winced and almost -cried out through the pain inflicted; for his arm felt as if it were -grasped by fingers of iron! - -“Yes, father--I am proud to inform you,” he said, again assuming an air -of noble independence,--“I am proud to inform you----” - -“Fool--madman--senseless idiot!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, his rage -suddenly bursting forth with such volcanic fury that his son fell back -in terror and dismay and eyed his father as if he thought that _he_ -must be insane: “you know not what you have done--the misery, the -wretchedness you have prepared for yourself--the ashes you are heaping -upon your own head--the infamy and disgrace you have brought down upon -yourself and all connected with you----” - -“Father--father!” cried Charles, now becoming full of wrath in his -turn: “you exceed the license which belongs to a parent even when the -son is in his nonage! Remember that you are alluding to the marriage -which I have thought fit to contract----” - -“A marriage which will embitter the remainder of your days, sir,” -retorted Mr. Hatfield, turning sharply round upon his son, and speaking -with almost savage rage. - -“This is unworthy of you--and I shall hear no more,” said Charles, in a -haughty tone and with a dignified manner, as he made for the door. - -“Stop, sir!” cried Mr. Hatfield, rushing after him and detaining him -forcibly by the arm: “we may not part thus----” - -“Speak not evil, then, of my wife!” exclaimed Charles, turning round, -and darting on his sire a look of superb defiance. - -“Your wife!” repeated Mr. Hatfield, his manly voice suddenly assuming -the almost shrieking tone of a wild hysterical laugh: “your wife!” he -said, now echoing his own words. “Oh! my God, that I should hear you -call that woman--that vile, profligate woman, by the sacred name---- - -“Father!” ejaculated Charles Hatfield, now goaded to desperation, and -raising his arm in a menacing manner: “forbear--forbear, I say,” he -continued in a hoarse, thick voice,--“or, by the heaven above us! I -shall strike even _you_!” - -“Listen--listen, Charles--for God’s sake, have patience!” cried -Mr. Hatfield, the thought now flashing to his mind that in his -ungovernable passion he had dealt only in epithets and averments as -yet unintelligible to his son--whereas he should at once have revealed -facts, terrible and startling, crushing and overwhelming though they -might be. - -“I will hear you, father,” said the young man, now speaking in a tone -of dogged sullenness “but again I warn you not to provoke me beyond the -power of endurance.” - -“No--no--I will not anger you, my son,” rejoined the unhappy parent, -becoming comparatively calm and even mournful in his manner and aspect; -“for, alas! I have tidings to reveal to you which will pierce like a -dagger to your heart’s core. The woman whom you have wedded as your -wife----” - -“Again that contemptuous name of ‘_the woman_!’” ejaculated Charles, -fire flashing from his eyes. - -“Patience!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, firmly: “that woman has deceived -you--duped you--entangled you, heaven alone knows how! to your utter -undoing--for she is the profligate and abandoned daughter of a vile and -tainted wretch--a returned transport!” - -“’Tis false--false as hell!” thundered Charles, the workings of his -countenance rendering him, handsome though he naturally was, hideous -and horrible to behold. - -“’Tis true--’tis true!” cried Mr. Hatfield, as if catching up the -terrible emphasis with which his son had spoken. “Perdita Slingsby--for -that is her name--is a wanton, beauteous though she may be: and it was -but two days ago that I accidentally heard the full narrative of her -profligacies in Sydney, from two officers quartered at Dover.” - -When the dreadful accusation that his wife was a _wanton_ had fallen -upon the young man’s ears, his boiling rage was on the point of -bursting forth, with all the violence of language and clenched fist, -against the author of his being: but when the allusion to the officers -at Dover immediately followed, the scene on the Parade suddenly flashed -to his memory, and a faintness--a sensation of sickness came over -him,--and he staggered to a sofa, on which he sank as if exhausted and -overcome. - -“Father--father,” he murmured, horrible suspicions now rising up one -after another, with lightning speed, in his soul: “your words are -terrible--they will kill me! And yet,” he added, in a firmer tone,as -a ray of hope gleamed in upon his darkening thoughts,--“I am a fool -to believe this tale! No--no--it is impossible! Perdita is pure and -virtuous--and there is some dreadful mistake in all this.” - -But even as he uttered these words, a secret voice seemed to whisper -in his ears that he was only catching at a straw, and that he was in -reality drowning in the ocean of truth which was pouring in with such -sweeping rapidity and overwhelming might upon him. - -“There is no mistake, my son,” said Mr. Hatfield, in a voice of -profound melancholy. “Would to heaven that there were!” he added, with -such deep conviction of the misery which his words implied, that all -hope perished suddenly in the breast of his son. “You have become the -prey to two designing women: for I heard terrible things at Dover, I -can assure you! The officers to whom I ere now alluded, had recognised -Perdita leaning on your arm----” - -“Yes--yes: I see it all now!” exclaimed Charles, covering his face -with his hands, and pressing his fingers with almost frantic violence -against his throbbing brows. - -“And those officers--with sorrow and grief do I tell you all this--had -themselves shared the favours of Perdita in Sydney; and as for the -mother of the abandoned girl--know you what has become of her?” -suddenly demanded Mr. Hatfield. - -“No: we missed her at Dover--just as we had embarked on board the -French steam-ship----” - -“Then you are doomed to receive another dreadful shock, my poor boy,” -continued Mr. Hatfield, in a tone of deep commiseration: “for Mrs. -Slingsby--or Mrs. Fitzhardinge--or whatever she calls herself--was -arrested at Dover, in consequence of a communication made by electric -telegraph from London----” - -“Arrested!” cried Charles, his amazement for a moment becoming stronger -even than his deep--deep grief. - -“Yes--arrested on suspicion of being concerned in a murder of an -atrocious character at Pentonville!” added Mr. Hatfield, in a solemn -and impressive tone. - -“Merciful God!” ejaculated the young man, clasping his hands together -as if in mortal agony: “surely I have fallen in with fiends in female -disguise. But Perdita--Perdita,” he cried, the lingering remnants of -affection causing him to hope that he was destined to hear nothing more -terrible of _her_ than the revelations which had already crushed him as -it were to the very dust: “she at least, father, is unsuspected in this -dreadful affair?” - -“The old woman who _is_ suspected, and whose countenance was seen by -a witness as she issued from the house of the murdered man,--that old -woman, who is no doubt Mrs. Slingsby, was accompanied by another and -younger female----” - -“Tell me no more, father!” almost yelled forth Charles Hatfield, -literally writhing on the sofa, as if with the poignant anguish of a -wound in a vital part. - -“Compose yourself, my dear son--if it be possible,” said the -disconsolate parent: “for I have many other things to tell you,--other -dreams to destroy,--dreams equally as bright as the hallucinations -which you had entertained relative to this wicked and hypocritical -Perdita. But first I ought to observe that there appears to be no -direct evidence to fix the murder of Mr. Percival----” - -“Percival!” repeated Charles, another and still more dreadful -pang shooting through his heart: “tell me--Percival did you -say?--Percival--a money-lender----” - -“The same,” cried Mr. Hatfield: “for I last evening read the entire -account of the murder in an English paper which I saw at the hotel -where I have put up.” - -“Then is the horrible surmise too true--too accurate,” said Charles, in -a hollow tone, while his face grew ghastly once more; “and it must have -been these demons in female shape who caused his death. But on what -night, father,” he demanded with abrupt impatience, “did the murder -take place?” - -“The night before you quitted London,” was the answer. - -“Ah! then it is clear--clear--clear, beyond all possibility of doubt!” -exclaimed Charles. “Yes--it was on the night in question that my note -of hand was discounted by that same Percival--for Perdita has since -told me that such was the name of the money-lender,” he continued, in -his soul-harrowing musings. - -“You have been raising money, then, Charles?” said Mr. Hatfield. “But -that is a miserable--a contemptible trifle compared to all the rest! -May I however ask you on what security--or on what prospects--you have -obtained a loan and given a promissory note?” - -“Father, henceforth there must be no secrets between us!” returned -the young man, becoming respectful, submissive, and even imploring -in his tone and demeanour. “The dreadful revelations of this morning -have destroyed all that egotistical confidence in myself and my own -wisdom----” - -“Yes, Charles,” interrupted Mr. Hatfield, taking his son’s hand -and speaking in a kind, commiserating tone; “you have been too -susceptible to first impressions--you have formed hasty opinions--you -have grasped at shadows--you have revelled in delicious hopes and -pleasing aspirations, without ever pausing to reflect that the very -foundation-stone of all this castle-building was a mere delusion.” - -“I do not comprehend you, father,” said the young man, now surveying -his parent with profound surprise: “unless, indeed, you allude to -the destruction of all the bright visions which I have conjured up -respecting the false--the wicked--the abandoned Perdita.” - -“No, my dear son--I am now seeking to direct the conversation into -another channel,” responded Mr. Hatfield, with solemn emphasis; “for, -alas! I can too well divine the deplorable error which you have adopted -and cherished as a substantial truth.” - -“An error, father!” repeated Charles, still completely mystified. - -“Yes--an error of the most afflicting nature,--afflicting to -you--afflicting to me--afflicting to your mother also,” added -Mr. Hatfield, his voice becoming low and melancholy. “In a word, -Charles, you believe yourself to be that which you are not--your -ambition has blinded you--your pride has led you into the most fatal -misconceptions----” - -“Father, you allude to my birth!” exclaimed the young man, starting as -he spoke. “Oh! is there any delusion in my recently formed opinions in -that respect?” - -Mr. Hatfield rose--and paced the room for a few moments: the whelming -tide of recollections of the past was now combined with that of the -sorrows of the present and the fears for the future;--and his emotions -were so powerful, that his voice was choked--his faculty of speech was -for the time suffocated by ineffable feelings. - -“Father--keep me not in suspense, I implore you!” said Charles, rising -from the sofa and accosting his parent. “I am nerved _now_ to hear any -thing and every thing, however terrible, in relation to myself! Only -keep me not in suspense, I beseech--I implore you!” - -“Alas! my dear boy,” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, turning towards him with -tearful eyes,--“if I tell you all connected with your birth--I--I shall -unmask myself--I shall stand revealed before you as a monster whom you -must henceforth loathe and detest.” - -“No--no,” cried Charles, now throwing himself into his father’s arms -and embracing him tenderly: “for the fatal difficulties--the cruel -embarrassments, in which I have plunged myself by my accursed folly--my -insane infatuation,--all these convince me that I need a kind friend -and adviser--and in you, my dearest father, I shall find both!” - -“Your language--your altered manner--your affection determine me to -throw myself upon your mercy, Charles,” said Mr. Hatfield, in a low -and profoundly mournful tone; “yes,--’tis the strange--the unnatural -spectacle of a father imploring a son to forgive _him_--the father--the -stain and the stigma which mark that son’s birth!” - -“Holy God! have I heard aright?” ejaculated Charles, pressing his hand -to his brow;--and, staggering back, he sank on the sofa,--not in a -swoon--not in a state of insensibility,--but stunned and stupefied, as -it were--and yet retaining a maddening consciousness of _all_! - -“Yes,” continued his father, speaking in a sepulchral, unearthly tone, -and averting his head,--“you are, alas! illegitimate, my dear boy; and -the hopes--the aspirations, which I _know_ you have formed, are all -baseless visions!” - -“And yet,” cried Charles, again starting suddenly from his seat, -“you assured me--emphatically assured me, that my mother was -pure--innocent--stainless;--and it was this averment that led me, -in connexion with the discovery which I lately made of other great -secrets,--it was this declaration on your part, I say, which led me to -form those hopes--indulge in those aspirations!” - -“Oh! my God--it is now that I am to appear as a monster in your eyes, -Charles!” exclaimed the wretched father, in a voice of bitter anguish: -“and yet to guard against all future misconceptions, since past ones -have wrought such deplorable mischief--I must reveal every thing to -you! Yes--your mother _was_ stainless--_was_ pure--_was_ innocent;--and -I--villain, miscreant that I was--I forcibly took from her that jewel -of chastity----” - -“Enough--enough!” almost shrieked forth Charles Hatfield, extending his -hands imploringly: “utter not another word--I understand you too well -already!” - -“And you have _read_ the history of my past life, Charles--is it not -so?” asked the unhappy parent. “Yes--yes: I know you have _read_--in -the _Annual Register_--the frightful narrative----” - -“Father,” said the young man, rising, and grasping the hands of his -sire: “you must not blush in the presence of your son! Once for all, -let me state that I _do_ know every thing;--and now let the past--so -far as it regards yourself--be buried in oblivion. My impertinent -curiosity first led me to make those researches into mysteries -which I should never have sought to penetrate;--and the knowledge I -accidentally acquired, led me to form hopes which have exercised a -fatal influence upon me! I discovered that you were the real Earl of -Ellingham; and, deeming myself to be your legitimately born son, I -conceived that you had wronged me by keeping me in darkness in respect -to the title which I fancied to be my own,--in respect, also, to the -higher title to which I believed myself to be the heir! Now--now, I can -no longer blame you for having observed so much mystery: Oh! no--on -the contrary, I have rewarded all your kindness towards me, with the -blackest ingratitude.” - -“We will pardon and forgive each other,” said Mr. Hatfield, solemnly: -“you shall pardon and forgive me for the stigma that attaches itself -to your birth--you shall likewise pardon me your mother’s wrongs, even -as she herself has long, long since pardoned me: and I, on my part, -will think no more of all that you have lately done--save to extricate -you from the cruel embarrassments in which by your hasty conduct, your -imprudence, and your misconceptions, you have become involved. In a -word, I will be to you as a kind friend and adviser;--and if henceforth -I may not hope for your affection--at least I may reckon upon your -gratitude.” - -“Yes--both, both!” cried Charles Hatfield, again embracing his father -tenderly. “Oh! how wicked--how criminal I have been! A veil has fallen -from my eyes--my soul has lost its dogged obstinacy--and I now perceive -how ungrateful I have been to my dear mother and yourself. But if it -be not too late to repair the past,” he continued, retreating a few -paces, and addressing his parent with a tone and manner of solemn -earnestness,--“if it be not too late to regain my mother’s love and -yours also,--oh! then the remainder of my life shall be wholly and -solely devoted to that one object! Yes--I will reinstate myself in -your esteem--I will prove by years of affection and obedience how -bitter is my remorse and how sincere is my repentance for the follies -and indiscretions of a few weeks! But in the meantime, father--in the -meantime, how am I to act towards the vile--the guilty woman, whom I -lately loved so madly?” - -“Where is she at present?” demanded Mr. Hatfield, profoundly touched by -the contrition and altered feelings now manifested by his son. - -“I left her asleep in a chamber belonging to this suite,” was the -reply. “Oh! I dare not meet her again--for I fear that I should spring -upon her like a tiger, and sacrifice her to my resentment! For all my -affection has now turned to a bitter--burning hatred,--a hatred against -herself and her more vile mother; and I am astounded when I reflect how -completely I have been deluded by them. It appears to me a dream--a -vision! I can scarcely bring myself to conceive that I could possibly -have been so insensate--so mad--so blind--so besotted! Oh! I could dash -my head against the wall, to punish myself for this atrocious folly!” - -And the young man struck his clenched fists forcibly against his -forehead. - -“Compose yourself--in the name of God! compose yourself,” said his -parent, rushing in upon him and restraining him from the commission -of farther violence. “Give not way to despair, my dear son--meet your -misfortune with courage----” - -“Oh! it is easy thus to recommend patience and endurance,” exclaimed -Charles, bitterly: “but think how cruelly I have been deceived! I was -fascinated as by the eyes of a serpent;--the magic of her charms, the -melody of her voice, the sophistry of her tongue, and the excitement -of her caresses, threw spells of an irresistible nature upon me: I -was enchanted--held captive in silken chains--dazzled by the almost -superhuman beauty of that prodigy of deceit and wantonness! I was not -allowed time for reflection--suspicion had no leisure to rise up in my -bosom, much less to fix its habitation there;--for I was whirled along, -as in a delirious dream, from the first instant that I met that woman -until the instant when your revelations of this morning dispelled the -entire illusion. The artfulness of that designing creature sustained -a constant elysian excitement in my soul: a perpetual succession of -insidious wiles, of apparent proofs of deep tenderness, and of caresses -that would enthral the heart of a saint,--such--such was the magic -course in which I was hurried madly along. Endowed with a wondrous -presence of mind, she had a ready answer for every question that I put -to her--even to the explanation of her singular name;--and, with a -guile as profound as it was ravishing--with an artfulness as deep as it -was calculated to enchant and captivate--she invested the history of -her early days with a mystery which only increased my admiration, and -made her appear more interesting in my eyes.” - -“You cannot wonder, then, that you were so completely deceived, my poor -boy,” said Mr. Hatfield, who had listened with great, though mournful -interest to the eloquent delineation of causes and effects which the -impassioned language of the young man had so graphically shaped. “But -as for the designing creature’s name, I heard its origin from the -officers whom I met at Dover. She is called _Perdita_, or ‘The Lost -One,’ because she was born in Newgate--and her mother, in the moment of -repentance for her own crimes, gave her that appellation as a memorial -and a warning----” - -“Heavens!” ejaculated Charles; “and I believed the specious--the -plausible explanation which the artful girl gave me relative to her -name! Oh! she is made up of deceit: the world has never known her equal -in that respect. I have read of Circe, with her spells--and of the -Syrens, with their perilous allurements;--I have read also of those -Mermaids--with the heads and busts of beauteous women, and with the -tails of monsters--and whose melting looks and ravishing songs enticed -sailors to their coasts, only to fall victims to these unnatural -devourers of human flesh:--but all these wonders of heathen mythology -are surpassed by this modern Circe--this Syren of the nineteenth -century--this Mermaid who preys, not on mortal flesh, but upon immortal -souls!” - -There was a terrible earnestness in the tone and manner of Charles, as -he gave utterance to these words:--and his father perceived that the -heart of the young man was painfully lacerated by the conviction of -Perdita’s tremendous duplicity. - -“Yes,” resumed Charles,--and Mr. Hatfield allowed him to speak on, -knowing that feelings so powerfully excited as his had been and still -were, must have a proper vent, in order that the soul might regain -something approaching to the equilibrium of calmness:--“yes,” exclaimed -the young man, passionately,--“she, whom I believed to be the mirror -in which all excellent qualities were reflected, is the embodiment -of every possible vice--every earthly iniquity. Oh! what a splendid -personification of SIN would she make for the painter or the architect! -But it must be a bold pencil or a powerful pen that could do justice -to _her_,--aye, and a man deeply read in the mysteries of human life, -to pourtray her character with accuracy! And that character I can read -now;--and I know her to be a creature who has studied sensuality, with -all the ardour of a glowing temperament--with all the vivid sensibility -that could enhance the joys of amorous enchantment! Oh! mine was an -idolatry such as a rapt enthusiasm pays, in its blind belief, to -the Spirit of Evil, conceiving it to be the source of every virtue! -Fatal mistake--deplorable error: shall I ever surmount the terrible -consequences?” - -“Yes--by taking courage, following my counsel, and placing me in -full possession of all the minutest details of this distressing and -perplexing case,” said Mr. Hatfield, assuming the part of a comforter, -now that the indignation of his son had in some degree expended itself -in those passionate outpourings which we have endeavoured to describe. - -“Oh! fear not, my beloved father--my only friend,” cried Charles, -warmly,--“fear not that I shall now conceal aught from you! I have -obeyed the impulses of my own wrongheadedness--and I am suffering -terribly in consequence: I have followed the dictates of my own -wilfulness--and I have gone lamentably astray! The result is that I -have no more confidence in myself: from the pinnacle of that proud -independence which I sought to assume, I am dashed down into a state -of childish helplessness. If you abandon me--I should not have courage -even to attempt to extricate myself from this maze of embarrassments in -which I am so cruelly involved: I should resign myself to my fate--I -should sink into despair!” - -“Cheer up, my beloved son--and think not for a moment of these dreadful -alternatives,” said Mr. Hatfield: “but answer me a few questions, and I -shall then know better how to act. Did you not find certain papers in a -secret recess in the Earl’s library----” - -“Yes--and those papers are safe,” replied Charles: “at least--Perdita -has them secure in her writing-desk, and we will make her surrender -them presently.” - -“As her husband--alas! that I should have to speak of you as such,--you -may break open that desk and take them by force,” said Mr. Hatfield! -“Does the young woman know their contents?” - -“Unfortunately she does,” was the mournful answer. - -“And her mother----” - -“Is equally well acquainted with them,” said Charles. “Even to save -you a pang,--and heaven knows I would now do much to spare you any -additional uneasiness,--I will not deceive nor mislead you in a single -detail.” - -“No--this is not a time nor a case for trifling, Charles,” observed Mr. -Hatfield. “Then both these women know who I am?” he added, in a low and -hoarse voice. - -“Oh! my God!” cried Charles, giving vent to his deep vexation and -obeying the impulse of his self-accusing spirit: “to what humiliations -have I not exposed you, my dearest father? _Can_ you--_will_ you ever -forgive me for all this?” - -“Have we not had much to pardon--much to explain, on either side, -already?” asked Mr. Hatfield, his voice now regaining its mildness--a -mildness that was, however, mournfully subdued. “Well, then, my dear -boy, give not way to these self-reproaches; for if I be anxious to -obtain a certain knowledge of the full extent of these evils, it -is only with the view of falling into no error and committing no -oversight in extricating both yourself and me from the embarrassments -that surround us. To return, then, to the immediate subject of our -discourse--those women know _all_?” - -“All--every thing,” replied Charles. “In that blind infatuation----” - -“Compose yourself, my dear boy,” said Mr. Hatfield, in a voice slightly -indicative of paternal authority. “Respecting the promissory note you -gave the money-lender Percival----” - -“Oh! now I shrink indeed from telling you the truth,” interrupted -Charles, his countenance glowing with shame and confusion; “and -yet--faithful to my promise--I will not mislead you. The note of hand -to which you allude was signed--_Viscount Marston_!” - -“If I recollect aright,” said Mr. Hatfield, “the account of the -murder, as reported in the newspapers, states distinctly that no -papers nor documents of any kind were found in the victim’s house--the -tin-box, in which such things were probably kept, having been emptied -of its contents. The assassin or assassins, then, whoever they may -be, possessed themselves of all the poor man’s papers--and your note -doubtless amongst the rest. In this case, we shall probably never hear -of it again. But--knowing the two women as you do--can you believe that -_they_ were the murderesses?” - -“No--I cannot think it!” exclaimed Charles. “What motive could they -have had? Certainly not to recover my promissory note, since they -believed me to be the heir to immense wealth;--and as they no doubt -fancied that their connexion with me would place ample resources at -their command, they were not likely to peril their lives by killing -the man for the sake of the money which he might have had in the -house. Besides, when I saw them on the following morning, there was no -confusion--nothing on their part to denote that they had so recently -committed a horrible crime; and, depraved--wicked--unscrupulous as they -evidently are, I cannot bring myself to imagine that they could meet -me with calm and unruffled countenances, only a few hours after having -accomplished a midnight murder.” - -“Let us hope that they are indeed innocent,” said Mr. Hatfield -solemnly. “And now I will explain to you the manner in which I propose -to deal with this Perdita.” - -The interest and attention of Charles redoubled, if possible, as his -father uttered these words. - -“Thank heaven,” continued Mr. Hatfield, “I possess wealth; and by -means of gold, every thing can be accomplished with such mercenary -adventuresses as these. Perdita shall receive a handsome sum of ready -money, and a suitable income allowed her so long as she shall consent -to dwell upon the continent, take any other name than that which you -have unfortunately given her, and never more molest you.” - -But scarcely had Mr. Hatfield uttered these words,--and before his -son had time to offer a single comment upon the proposed plan to be -adopted,--the door opened, and Perdita entered the room. - - - - -CHAPTER CLII. - -THE FATHER, THE SON, AND THE SON’S WIFE. - - -The magnificent creature whom Mr. Hatfield now beheld for the first -time, had perhaps never shone to greater advantage than on the present -occasion. - -She was absolutely dazzling--radiant--supernally grand, in all the -glory of her queen-like beauty. - -A French cambric wrapper, worked, and trimmed with costly lace, -enveloped her form--fitting loosely, yet defining all the rich contours -of her voluptuous shape;--and, though--having risen hurriedly almost -immediately after awakening--she had no stays on, the natural firmness -of her bust maintained its rounded proportions without any artificial -support. - -We have before said that her early initiation in a career of wantonness -and the licentious course which she had pursued in Australia, had -marred nothing of the first freshness of youth in respect to her;--and -thus, though her wrapper was so far open at the bosom as to show that -the glowing orbs of snowy whiteness were unsustained by the usual -article of apparel, their contours were of virgin roundness. - -Her dark brown hair had been hastily gathered up in two massive -bands, silken and glossy, and serving as a frame to set off the -height and width of the fine forehead, which rose above brows arching -majestically, and almost meeting between the temples. - -Her cheeks were slightly flushed with a carnation hue;--her large -grey eyes shone brilliantly, and appeared to give a halo of light to -her whole countenance;--her moist red lips, parted with a smile of -happiness and satisfaction, revealed the teeth so perfectly regular -and of such pearly whiteness;--and her neck arched proudly and with -swan-like grace. - -One arm hung negligently, but slightly rounded, by her side: the other, -thrown across her form just above the waist, kept the folds of the -wrapper together;--and from beneath the skirt of that elegant, tasteful -garment, of almost gauzy lightness and transparency, peeped forth the -beautifully-modelled ankles in their flesh-coloured silk stockings, and -the charming feet in their embroidered slippers of pale blue satin. - -Though, as we have before stated, she was not above the middle -height, yet there was something truly regal and commanding in her -deportment--something more than graceful and less than imperious in her -carriage, and, altogether, she appeared a being to whom it would not be -idolatrous to kneel. - -On the contrary,--prejudiced and naturally inveterate as he was against -her, Mr. Hatfield could well comprehend, even at the first glance which -he threw upon her, how a young man of enthusiastic disposition and -keen sensibility might love that enchanting creature with a devotion -amounting to a worship. - -The apartment was large and beautifully furnished,--the uncarpetted -floor of oak was polished almost to mirror-like brightness,--vast -looking-glasses, set in splendid frames, were suspended to the -walls,--a massive or-molu time-piece and handsome porcelain vases -filled with flowers freshly gathered that morning, stood on the -mantel,--and through the casements, which reached from the ceiling to -the floor, and which were only partially shaded by muslin curtains, -flowed the gorgeous lustre of the cloudless sun, so that the room -seemed filled with a transparent and impalpable haze of gold-dust. - -Thus the whole aspect of that large and lofty apartment was magnificent -and rich, bright and joyous;--and, had the minds of the father and son -at the instant been in a different mood, they would have felt thrilled -with admiration and delight at the presence of the magnificent creature -who now entered an atmosphere so congenially glorious and sunny. - -It seemed as if the beauteous being herself were surrounded with -a golden halo,--as if the perfume of the freshly gathered flowers -were the delicious fragrance of her breath,--as if the delicate feet -and ankles bore her glancingly along a polished surface which she -scarcely appeared to touch; while the immense mirrors multiplied the -voluptuous form, as though other and kindred houris were moving about -in attendance on their queen. - -The effulgence of the warm sun played on her shining hair, as if a -glory sate on that exquisitely shaped head,--gave additional brightness -to the eyes that flashed with the natural fire of joy,--and rendered -the fine and faultless countenance radiant and dazzling in its -surpassing beauty. - -Were that a room in a palatial dwelling,--were it an empress making -her appearance,--and were the two men courtiers awaiting her presence, -the effect could not have been more grand--more striking,--and the -courtiers would have fallen on their knees in mute adoration of a being -that seemed almost divine! - -But, alas! circumstances marred all those fine effects which the -transcendant charms of a lovely woman might have produced;--for the -soul of this woman corresponded not with her captivating exterior,--it -was dark and hideous--inspiring horrible thoughts, and suggesting ideas -of a nature so sinister, sombre, and gloomy, as to throw into the shade -all the glory of the outward loveliness. - -[Illustration] - -But, unsuspicious of the storm which was about to explode against her, -Perdita entered that room;--and the influence of a night of love and -voluptuousness and of elysian dreams lingered upon her countenance in -the smile that it wore. - -She had slept for nearly an hour after Charles Hatfield had risen -so noiselessly from her side in the nuptial couch;--and when she at -length awoke, she imagined that her young husband had been unwilling to -disturb her when he himself arose. Nevertheless, she determined to seek -him ere she passed through the routine of the toilette;--and hastily -fastening up her hair, and assuming a slight apparel, she had proceeded -to the sitting-room where she supposed him to be. - -And there indeed he was: but not alone! - -Still, when Perdita, on first entering the apartment, beheld _another -person_ with him whom she sought, she had no suspicion of the real -truth, but imagined it must be some friend who had found out her -husband’s residence in Paris and had perhaps called to congratulate him -on his bridal. - -Thus was it that her countenance wore that delicious expression of -pleasure and satisfaction, as she advanced towards Charles and _that -other_;--and it was not until she was within a few paces of them, that -she observed the foreboding looks which they cast upon her--even the -aversion and the hate with which they _both_ regarded her! - -Then she stopped suddenly short, her countenance undergoing an -immediate change--the smile disappearing, and giving place to an -expression of proud defiance and haughty contempt; though she was -still unconscious of the nature of the storm that she saw lowering so -ominously. - -“Charles, who is this person?” she demanded, indicating Mr. Hatfield -with a movement of the head, accompanied by a slight inflection of the -whole form--a gesture which would have become a queen. - -“My father,” answered the young man quietly;--and he turned away -towards the mantel-piece. - -For an instant Perdita seemed shocked by this announcement;--but in -the next moment, as the thought swept across her brain that it was -impossible for Mr. Hatfield to know aught seriously detrimental to -her character, she crossed the room in a majestic manner, and, laying -her long tapered fingers gently upon her husband’s arm, said, “Is it -possible that the remonstrances of your father should have induced you -to repent of this alliance,--_you_, who have sworn to love and cherish -me in spite of parents and all the world beside?” - -“When a man discovers that he has taken a reptile to his bosom,” said -Charles, the words hissing through his almost set teeth, “he flings it -away from him. He _ought_ to crush it beneath his heel!” - -The last sentence was added after a moment’s pause, and ere Perdita, -who was astounded at the tone, and manner, and words of her husband, -had regained the power of utterance so as to enable her lips to shape a -comment or a reply. - -“Is it to me that this insulting allusion applies?” she demanded at -length--her countenance becoming ashy pale, and her lips quivering with -the rage which she still sought to subdue. - -“It is to you that I addressed myself,” exclaimed Charles, now -turning round and confronting the woman whom he had lately loved with -such madness, and whom he now loathed with such savage aversion. -“Vile--polluted--wanton thing,” he cried, unabashed--undismayed by the -lightning glances that flashed from her wildly dilating orbs: “the -mask is torn from your face as the film from my eyes--and I am no -longer your dupe, though, alas! I am perhaps still your victim! I know -all--all--every thing,--the depravity of your past life--the hypocrisy -of your present course:--all--all is now revealed to me. Your evil fame -has followed you from beyond the seas;--it overtook you on the Marine -Parade at Dover;--and it now attaches itself for ever to your steps, in -the capital of France. Oh! my God--how cruelly, how miserably have I -been deceived!” - -And the young man darted a glance of savage hatred upon the woman -who, pale and motionless as a marble statue, seemed petrified by the -crushing truths that fell upon her ears. - -Meantime Mr. Hatfield stood aloof, with folded arms--listening to the -words that his son addressed to Perdita, and marking their effect. - -“That you were born in Newgate--of a woman condemned to death for -felony, and then reprieved,--_this_ was no fault of yours,” continued -Charles, in a slow and measured tone--for he sought as much as -possible to prevent a violent outburst of the rage that boiled within -him:--“that the mystic name of _Perdita_, or ‘The Lost One,’ should -have proved prophetic of your after life, you also could not help;--and -that, amongst the felonry of New South Wales, you should have become -polluted--contaminated--and indeed _lost_, was perhaps a fate for which -you are rather to be pitied than blamed. But here all sympathy ceases -for you! Wherefore, on your arrival in England, did you seek _me_ out -to become your victim?--wherefore did your wretched mother dog my -footsteps--accost me--ensnare me into a discourse to which she imparted -a mysterious interest--and then lead me into your presence? Why did you -open the battery of all your meretricious charms upon me?--why cast -your spells around me--wean my affections from an estimable young lady -who is white as snow compared with the blackness of _your_ soul--and -lead me on until the crowning act of ruin was accomplished yesterday in -the Chapel of the British Embassy?” - -“I have heard you with patience--and if you possess the generosity -of a man and an Englishman, you will give me an equal share of your -attention,” said Perdita, who, during her husband’s address, had -recovered all her wonted presence of mind--though her heart was wounded -in its very core. “It is true that I was born in Newgate--that I -deceived you respecting the origin of my Christian name--and that I -escaped not the contamination of a far-off clime into which my sad -destinies threw me. But when my mother, for reasons which I think she -made satisfactorily apparent to you, sought an interview with you,--and -when that circumstance introduced us to each other, did you not proffer -me your friendship of your own accord?--did you not next assure me that -this sentiment had changed to the feeling of love?--did you not implore -me, almost on your knees, to become your wife at the altar--I, who in -the first instance had proposed and agreed to become your mistress -only? And then you dare to speak of our marriage as the crowning act -of you ruin,--that marriage on which you yourself so imploringly--so -earnestly--so solemnly insisted?” - -“Oh! yes--because I deemed you pure and virtuous!” exclaimed Charles, -almost gnashing his teeth as the words of Perdita reminded him of all -the arts which she had practised to ensnare him--all the sophistry she -had used to make herself appear in his eyes every thing that she was -_not_. - -“Was it to be supposed,” she asked, impatiently and haughtily,--that -shameless Perdita--“was it to be supposed that I would reveal to you -the incidents of my past life? And yet, even if I had, I do firmly and -sincerely believe that you would still have made me your wife!” - -“No--never, never!” cried Charles, his voice and manner expressing -loathing, abhorrence, and indignation. “But let us not bandy words -thus. I have intelligence which--lost and depraved as you are, and -vilely as you have treated me--I nevertheless grieve to have to convey -to you,--for I cannot, even in my anger and hate, forget that you are a -woman.” - -“And that intelligence?” demanded Perdita, suffering not her -countenance nor her manner to betray the deep curiosity and the -suspense which her husband’s words had suddenly excited within her -bosom. - -“The intelligence regards your mother, and explains her mysterious -disappearance at Dover,” continued Charles, who, as well as his father, -now intensely watched the young woman’s countenance. - -“Speak on!” she said, not a muscle of her face betraying any -emotion:--and still she stood motionless and statue-like. - -“Your mother was arrested on suspicion of being concerned in the murder -of Mr. Percival, the money-lender whom you represented to me as the -discounter of my promissory note;”--and, as Charles uttered these words -in slow and measured tones, he maintained his eyes fixed upon the pale -but unchanging features of his wife. - -“Then my mother has been accused of that whereof she is innocent,” -said Perdita, in a voice so firm and resolute, yet devoid of passion, -that her hearers felt convinced she was practising no artifice now. -“It is true that Percival discounted your note: I myself received -the money--and you can doubtless give your father a satisfactory -explanation relative to the expenditure of the portion that is gone. If -Percival have indeed met his death by violent means, it was not by the -hands of two weak women that he fell.” - -“Thank heaven! _this_ crime at least cannot, then, be attributed to -you,” said Charles. “There must be enough upon your conscience without -_that_!” - -“And have _you_ nothing wherewith to reproach yourself?” demanded -Perdita, still maintaining that majesty of demeanour which, with -her now marble-like features, her motionless attitude, and her -fine form enveloped in drapery that fell in classic plaits and -graceful folds around her, gave her the air of a statue of Diana -the Huntress or of Juno Queen of Heaven. “Have you inflicted no -injury upon me?” she asked. “Yes--yes: and I will convince you -that your conduct has been far from blameless in that respect. You -loved me--loved me almost from the first instant that you beheld -me. Yours was not a tranquil--serene--and sickly sensation: it -was a fury--a wild passion--a delirium--a species of hurricane of -the strongest, most fervent emotions. I was all--every thing to -you: parents--family--friends,--Oh! you cared for none of these in -comparison with me. The holiest ties you would have broken--the most -sacred bonds you would have snapped--the most solemn obligations -you would have violated, sooner than have resigned your hope of -possessing me! All this is true--and you know it. Your love amounted -to a madness--a frenzy, capable of the most unheard-of sacrifices, -and as likely to hurry you into the most desperate extremes. For had -I provoked your jealousy, you would have murdered me: had I fled and -abandoned you, you would have pined to death--or committed suicide. -In fine, yours was no common love--no ordinary affection. Poets -never dreamt and novelists never depicted a love so boundless--so -absorbing--so immense as yours. And what could result from such a love -as this! The consequence was inevitable;--and that consequence was that -I, who had never loved before, received into my soul a transfusion of -the spirit that animated _you_. You were so happy in your love, that -my imagination doubtless longed to revel in the same paradise which -you had created for yourself;--and I was taught by you to love as -profoundly and as well. In a word, you ensnared my heart--you obtained -a hold upon my affections; and, as there is a living God above us! I -swear that when you led me to the altar, you loved me not better than -I loved you. And this love which I experienced for you, would have -made me a good wife--a sincere friend--a conscientious adviser. I -should have entered upon a new existence; and my soul would have become -purified. True it is that I gave to the marriage-bed a body that was -polluted and unchaste: but I gave also a heart that was wholly and -solely thine;--and from the instant that our hands were united by the -minister of God, it would have proved as impossible for me to have -played the wanton with another as that the infant child should harbour -thoughts of villainy and murder. Now you have learnt the antecedents -of my life--and your love is suddenly changed into hatred. But did you -not take me for better or worse?--did you not wed me, because you loved -me!--did you not espouse me for myself alone! Oh! you should pity me -for the past--and cherish me at present and for the future: and your -conscience tells you thus much even now!” - -Charles Hatfield, who had listened with deep and solemn interest,--for -his soul was absolutely enchained by this strange display of natural -eloquence,--now shook his head impatiently. - -“No! Then mark how fatal your love will have proved to me,” -exclaimed Perdita. “You cast me off--you put me away from you;--and -yet you cannot give me back the heart which you have ensnared. -Wherefore--wherefore did you bring to bear upon me the influence of -your ardent love, unless you were prepared to make every sacrifice -unto the end? I am young--I am beautiful--and I might gain a high -and a proud position by means of marriage: but, no--I am chained to -_you_--and _you_ are intent upon discarding me! Now reflect well -on the probable consequences of this proceeding on your part,” -continued Perdita, her melodious voice gathering energy, and a tinge -of rose-bud hue appearing on her cheeks and gradually deepening into -a flush,--while her eyes shone with a lustre that gave an almost -unearthly radiance to her entire countenance: “reflect well, I say,” -she repeated, “on the probable consequences of the resolution which you -have taken. As your wife, and dwelling with you as such, I should have -clung to you--loved you with unceasing devotion--exerted all my powers -to retain your esteem. Nay, more--in time I should have won your good -opinion by my _actions_--as I had already secured it by my _words_. -Amongst the entire community of women, there would have been none -more exemplary than I;--and thus your love would have proved a saving -influence--valuable to society at large, and blessed by the Almighty -Ruler whom you worship. But how changed are these prospects! You are -prepared to discard me--to thrust me away from your presence--to push -me out into the great world, where I must battle for myself. _There_ -I shall find my circumstances terribly---fearfully altered from what -they were before your lips whispered the delicious but fatal tale of -love in mine ears. For if I retain your name, I thereby proclaim myself -a divorced wife: if I pass myself off as an unmarried young lady, I -shall not dare to accept proposals for an alliance, be it never so -advantageous--because the fear of a prosecution for bigamy would hang -over my head. Will you, then, forgive me for the past, and receive me -as an affectionate wife and reformed woman to your arms?--or will you -send me forth, an outcast--with ruined hopes, blighted prospects, and a -damaged character?” - -Gradually, as she approached the end of this speech, Perdita had -suffered her voice to lose its energy and its firmness, and grow -tender, pathetic, and mournful--until at the close of her appeal, it -became tremulously plaintive and profoundly touching,--while her form -simultaneously relaxed from its statue-like rigidity--the head slightly -inclining, the body bending in the least degree forward, and the hands -joining as the last words fell from her lips. - -For an instant Charles was about to yield to the appeal commenced with -a dignity so well assumed, and terminated with a tenderness so well -affected; but, at the critical moment, Mr. Hatfield, who had hitherto -remained a mute spectator of this extraordinary scene, stepped forward, -exclaiming, “No--no; a compromise of such a nature is impossible! -Charles, the sophistry is indeed most specious--but the peril is -likewise tremendous!” - -“Yes--yes,” cried the young man, instantly recovering his presence of -mind: “I told you, father, that she was a Circe--a Syren,--and now you -have ample proofs of the assertion.” - -While he was yet speaking, the appearance of Perdita underwent a rapid -and signal change. She suddenly seemed to throw off the air of a -suppliant, as if she were discarding a mean garment that was unbecoming -and abhorrent: her cheeks acquired a deeper flush, her eyes a more -dazzling brilliancy;--the blue veins in her forehead grew more clearly -traceable--her nostrils dilated--her lips wreathed into an expression -of sovereign disdain--and her entire form appeared to expand into more -majestic proportions. - -A moment before she had seemed a voluptuous beauty, in the melting -softness of an appeal for pardon at love’s shrine: now she stood in the -presence of the father and son,--proud--haughty--and magnificent as -Juno,--and armed with authority to wield the lightning-shafts and the -thunderbolts of Jove. - -“Let us think of peace no more,” she exclaimed: “but war--terrible -war,--war to the knife! Cast me off--thrust me from you--denounce -me as the wanton Perdita--proclaim me to be born of a felon, and to -have first seen the light in Newgate,--do all this if you will: I -shall not the less remain your wife, Charles--and, as your wife, I am -ennobled,--I bear the proud title of _Viscountess Marston_!” - -“Miserable woman,” cried Mr. Hatfield: “you deceive yourself--even -as Charles has been by himself deceived! For know that he is -illegitimate----” - -“’Tis false! you would delude--you would mislead me!” exclaimed -Perdita, who, in spite of the tone of confidence in which she uttered -these ejaculations, was painfully affected by the revelation that had -elicited them. - -“It is true--too true!” cried Charles, with a bitterness that carried -conviction to the mind of Perdita. - -“Then if I cannot proclaim myself to be Viscountess Marston,” she said, -concealing with a desperate and painful effort the shock which she had -just experienced,--“I can still have my revenge against you both;--for -if _my_ mother were a felon, Charles, _your_ father was the same--if -_I_ were born in Newgate, the author of _your_ being has passed through -the hands of the public executioner!” - -“Fiend--wretch!” ejaculated the young man, springing forward as if -about to dash her on the floor and trample her under foot. - -But the hand of his father suddenly grasped him as in an iron vice, -and held him back; and all the while Perdita had maintained her -ground--shrinking not a step, retreating not a pace. - -“Coward!” she exclaimed, in a tone of ineffable contempt, as she kept -her eyes--her large, shining grey eyes--fixed with disdain upon him -whom she had lately loved so fervently and so well. - -“Charles--Charles,” said Mr. Hatfield, in an imploring voice, as he -held his son firmly by both arms,--“merit not by your actions that -infamous woman’s reproaches. I was prepared for what she dared to -address to me----” - -“Oh! my dear father, this is terrible!” murmured the young man, who -felt a faintness coming over him, as the words which Perdita had spoken -concerning his parent still rang in his ears, and as he observed the -deadly pallor which had spread over that parent’s countenance. - -“Compose yourself, Charles,” said Mr. Hatfield, conducting him to a -seat: then, turning round and accosting Perdita, he exclaimed, “Madam, -let us treat this most unpleasant affair as a purely business-matter: -in short, let us effect an arrangement which may be proper and suitable -for both parties--the basis being the immediate separation of yourself -and my son.” - -“Yes--I have no longer any objection to offer to that proposal,” said -Perdita; “for after his attempt to strike me, I despise even more than -I hate him.” - -“And just now,” exclaimed the young man, starting from his seat, “you -declared that I possessed your heart. Oh! I am rejoiced that you have -admitted your hatred towards me--because I have thereby received -another proof of your boundless duplicity.” - -Perdita smiled scornfully--but deigned no reply. - -“Leave the affair in my hands, Charles,” said Mr. Hatfield, in an -authoritative tone: then, observing with satisfaction that his son -returned to his seat, the father addressed himself once more to -Perdita, who remained standing near the mantel. “Madam,” he continued, -“you have already heard that the bright hopes in which your husband -had indulged, and the golden visions which he had conjured up, are -all destroyed by the revelation which I have this morning made to -him,--the revelation of the _one_ fatal secret--his illegitimacy! -Instead, then, of being _Viscount Marston_ at present and _Earl of -Ellingham_ in perspective, he is still plain and simple _Charles -Hatfield_--and so he is likely to remain. By consequence, you, madam, -are _Mrs. Hatfield_--and not _Viscountess Marston_ now, nor with any -chance of becoming _Countess of Ellingham_. If you require proofs of -what I am now telling you, I can exhibit them at once;--for, knowing -beforehand the nature of the delusions in which my son had cradled his -fancy, and the necessity of destroying them, I set out on this journey -provided with several papers of importance. For instance,” continued -Mr. Hatfield, taking forth his pocket-book; “here is the certificate of -my marriage with Lady Georgiana Hatfield--and you may at once perceive -by the date how impossible it is that our son could have been born in -wedlock.” - -While thus speaking, Mr. Hatfield had sunk his voice to the lowest -audible whisper--so that Perdita alone heard him: for the revelation he -was making was of a most painful nature, although rendered imperatively -necessary under the circumstances. - -Perdita glanced rapidly over the certificate, and bit her lip with a -vexation she could no longer conceal;--for that document effectually -set at rest the question of her husband’s legitimacy or illegitimacy; -and she indeed found that instead of gaining a noble title by marriage, -she had formed an alliance with an obscure young man who was dependant -on his parents for even a morsel of bread. - -“It now remains for you to decide whether you choose to proclaim -yourself, wherever you go, to be the wife of Mr. Charles Hatfield;--or -whether you will think fit to resume your maiden name--or any other -that may suit your purposes--and maintain a strict silence henceforth -relative to this most unfortunate alliance.” - -Thus spoke Mr. Hatfield;--and Perdita appeared to be plunged in deep -thought for a few minutes. - -“And what are the conditions you annex to those alternatives?” she -asked at length, fixing her eyes, which now shone with a subdued -and sombre lustre, in a penetrating manner upon Mr. Hatfield’s -countenance--as if she would _there_ read the reply to her question -even before his lips could frame it. - -“If you proclaim yourself my son’s wife,” said he, meeting her look -firmly and speaking resolutely, “I shall spare no expense in bringing -the whole transaction before the proper tribunals in England, with the -ultimate view of enabling him to obtain a divorce; and in this case I -should not allow you one single farthing--no, not even to save you from -starvation.” - -“And have you not reflected,” asked Perdita, in a tone and with a -gesture indicative of superb disdain,--“have you not reflected that -a judicial investigation must inevitably lay bare all the tremendous -secrets connected with yourself and family?--for you cannot suppose, -that if you commence the part of a persecutor against _me_, I shall -evince any forbearance towards _you_! No--it would be, as I said just -now, a terrible warfare--a warfare to the very death,--and in which -human ingenuity would rack itself to discover and set in motion all -possible means of a fearful vengeance.” - -“I have weighed all this,” said Mr. Hatfield, calmly; “and I have -resolved to dare exposure of every kind--nay, to sacrifice myself, if -necessary--in order to save my son.” - -“And now for the conditions annexed to the second alternative?” said -Perdita, maintaining a remarkable coolness and self-possession, -although in the secret recesses of her soul she harboured the -conviction that the triumph was as yet on the other side, and that she -must end by accepting the best terms she could obtain. - -“If you will sign a paper, undertaking never to represent yourself -as my son’s wife,” said Mr. Hatfield,--“never to molest him in any -way--never to return to England, but to fix your abode in some -continental state,--and lastly, that you will retain inviolably secret -not only the fact of this most inauspicious marriage, but likewise -all matters connected with myself and family,--if you affix your name -to such a document,” continued Mr. Hatfield, “I will immediately pay -you the sum of one thousand pounds, and I will allow you five hundred -pounds a year so long as the convention shall be duly kept on your -part.” - -“And should you happen to die before me?” said Perdita, her manner now -being of that cold, passionless nature which rendered it impossible for -Mr. Hatfield to conjecture what sort of an impression his alternatives -and their conditions had made upon her mind: “for you must remember,” -she added, “that such an event is to be reckoned upon in the common -course of nature.” - -“Granted,” was the prompt reply. “My will shall contain a clause -enjoining and empowering my executors to continue the payment of your -income, from a fund especially sunk for the purpose, so long as your -conduct shall be in accordance with the conditions stipulated.” - -“And am I to understand that if I leave your son unmolested, I shall -remain unmolested also!” demanded Perdita. - -“I scarcely comprehend you,” said Mr. Hatfield, evidently perplexed. - -“I mean,” replied Perdita, in a slow and measured tone, so that her -words could not be misapprehended nor their sense mistaken,--“I mean -that if I go forth into the world again as Miss Fitzhardinge, or Miss -Fitzgerald, or any other name I may choose to take,--and if, receiving -a suitable offer of marriage, I contract such an alliance,--I mean, -then, to ask whether I may calculate upon acting thus with impunity at -your hands?” - -“My God! what interest can I have to molest you in any way?” cried Mr. -Hatfield. “Would to heaven that you could both of you sign a paper -effectually emancipating you from any claim on each other in respect to -this accursed--this miserable marriage.” - -“You are now speaking with unnecessary excitement, sir, after having -reproved your son for the same fault--and also after having yourself -proposed to discuss this matter in a purely business-like manner,” -said Perdita, her lip curling slightly with an expression of scornful -triumph. - -“True, madam,” observed Mr. Hatfield, who, throughout this -dialogue--since his son had remained seated apart--had treated Perdita -with a perfect though frigid courtesy: “I was in error to give way to -any intemperance of tone or manner--and I ask your pardon. You have now -heard all that I have to propose----” - -“And I accept the conditions,” she said. “Indeed, I shall be happy for -this scene to terminate as speedily as possible.” - -“A few minutes’ more will suffice, madam,” observed Mr. Hatfield. “If -you will have the kindness to provide me with writing-materials, I -shall not be compelled to intrude on you much longer.” - -Perdita bowed slightly: and quitted the room,--not in haste--but -with stately demeanour and measured tread, as if she were merely a -consenting party to a business-transaction, and not a vanquished one on -whom conditions had been imposed. - -The moment the door closed behind her, Mr. Hatfield said to his son, -“That woman is indeed a prodigy of beauty, and a very demon at heart. -What an angelic creature would she have been were she as pure and -virtuous as she is lovely!” - -“Ah! my dear father,” returned Charles, who appeared to be completely -spirit-broken and overwhelmed by the terrible occurrences and -revelations of this memorable morning,--“you can now comprehend, -perhaps,--at least to some extent,--the nature of that infatuation -which I experienced in respect to this singular being. The world has -never seen her equal for beauty and for wickedness.” - -“The sooner you are removed from the sphere of her fatal influence, the -better,” observed Mr. Hatfield. “When she re-appears, do you quit the -room, and hasten as much as possible your preparations to depart with -_me_.” - -“Fear not, my dear father,” responded Charles, “that I shall, of my -own accord, interpose any delay. But the papers--she will surrender -them----” - -“As a matter of course. You may have observed,” added the parent, -“that, in spite of her haughty coldness, she was subdued and -vanquished.” - -At this instant the door opened, and Perdita returned, bearing her -writing-desk in her hands. - -Her countenance, though flushed, and thus presenting a striking -contrast to its colourless appearance some time before, gave no -indication of the nature of her feelings: impossible was it to judge of -the emotions that might occupy her bosom, by that which is wont to be -denominated the mirror of the soul. - -Her step was still measured and stately, while her attitude was -graceful; and, as she advanced towards the table--passing through the -golden flood of lustre that filled the room--the waving of her white -drapes; gave an additional charm to the undulating nature of her motion. - -From beneath her richly fringed lids, while affecting to keep her eyes -half bent downward as if on the rose-wood desk which she carried, she -darted a rapid glance at Mr. Hatfield--and then her look dwelt the -least thing more lingeringly on her husband, who had risen from his -seat and was leaning on the mantel. - -By a natural effect of curiosity,--perhaps also in obedience to a last -remaining particle of that immense love which he had so lately borne -her,--Charles Hatfield likewise glanced towards her from beneath his -half-closed lids, and also while he wished to appear as if fixing his -gaze downward:--thus their looks met--unavoidably met,--and the blood -rushed to the countenance of the young man, as he felt overwhelmed with -shame, and bitterly indignant with himself, for having given way to -this momentary proof of weakness. - -On the other hand, a smile of triumph,--though faint, and perceptible -only to her husband--not to his father, who saw not with eyes that had -once looked love towards _her_,--curled the rich red lips of Perdita; -and she thought within herself, “Even in the bitterness of your hate, -the power of my charms revives a spark, albeit an evanescent one, of -the fires that were wont to burn within your breast in adoration of me!” - -All this dumb show--this mute expression of the strangest, and yet the -most natural feelings on either side, occupied but a few moments;--and -then, as Perdita placed the desk upon the table, Charles turned to quit -the room. - -“Here are writing materials, sir,” she said to Mr. Hatfield, not -choosing to appear to notice the departure of her husband; for all the -pride of this extraordinary woman was aroused to a degree which in a -being of lesser energy would have been totally incompatible with the -frightful exposure that had been made of her depravity and deceit. - -But the consciousness of possessing the loveliness of an Angel rose -superior to the shame of being proved to be endowed with the profligacy -of a Demon: the knowledge that she was so pre-eminently beautiful was -for her a triumph and a glory which, in her estimation, threw into the -shade the certainty of her wantonness and guile;--she flattered herself -and fancied that, even were her true character revealed in its proper -colours to all the world, the darkness of her soul would be absorbed -and rendered invisible by the transcendant brilliancy of her outward -charms. - -Thus, even in the presence of the husband to whom she was unmasked, -and of the indignant father who had unmasked her, the pride of her -loveliness enabled her to maintain that haughty demeanour which we -have explained;--for it was not Perdita who was likely to melt into -tears--to supplicate for mercy--to acknowledge shame or remorse--or to -kneel to those whom she now looked upon as her enemies. Unless, indeed, -she had some grand object to accomplish, or some important end to -gain;--and then she could veil her pride beneath an assumption of all -the passions--all the emotions--and all the tender feelings which she -might deem it expedient to affect. - -To return to the thread of our narrative. - -“Here are writing materials, sir,” she remarked, as she placed the desk -upon the table: then, drawing a chair near, she seated herself in a -calm and dignified manner, and with all the appearance of one who knew -and felt that she had important business in hand. - -Mr. Hatfield bowed--seated himself likewise--and proceeded to draw up a -document including the conditions which he had already specified, and -which the lady had agreed to. - -While he was writing, Perdita kept her eyes fixed upon him, as if she -could tell by the movement of the pen the very words it was forming, as -the hand which held it travelled rapidly over the paper. - -At length the document was finished; and Mr. Hatfield presented it to -Perdita for her perusal. While she was engaged in reading it, he drew -forth his pocket-book, and counted thence ten notes, each of a hundred -pounds, upon the table. - -“I have no objection to offer to this deed,” said Perdita, taking up -the pen to sign it. - -“Here is the amount promised,” said Mr. Hatfield; “and I will now give -you an undertaking relative to the payment of the income which I have -promised you.” - -Perdita bowed coldly; and he immediately drew up the second paper. - -“I must now request you to give me up all the _private documents_ which -my son placed in your hands for safe keeping,” observed Mr. Hatfield. - -“They are in the upper part of that desk--and you can take them,” said -Perdita, without the least hesitation; for she was naturally prepared -for this demand, and had no object to serve in refusing it. - -She then signed her undertaking, while Mr. Hatfield possessed himself -of the documents and looked them carefully over to ascertain that none -were missing. - -Having satisfied himself on this head, he gave Perdita the money and -the undertaking which he had prepared; and thus terminated this strange -business. - -“I have now a few observations to make,” said Perdita; “but they are -not of a nature to revive any unpleasant discussion. They concern -matters entirely personal to myself. Although I have declared--and -emphatically declare again--that my mother is innocent of the crime -on suspicion of which you inform me that she has been arrested, the -judicial investigation will naturally lead to a most unpleasant -exposure of her _name_. It is therefore probable that my interests and -views may be served by a change of _my name_--as I shall not of course -bear that which the marriage-ceremony of yesterday gave to me. Should I -adopt such a course, I will acquaint you by letter with the fact----” - -“Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,” said Mr. Hatfield; “but I -shall seek not to become acquainted with any particulars that may -hereafter concern you. Every quarter you can draw upon me, through any -banker, in any part of the world where you may happen to be; and you -are at liberty to use any name you may think fit--save _one_. I shall -know that the draft is yours; and you may rest assured that it will be -duly honoured.” - -“Then we have now no more to say to each other,” observed Perdita, -rising from her seat, and mechanically drawing the muslin wrapper -around her, in such a manner that it displayed all the full proportions -of her fine figure. - -Mr. Hatfield bowed a negative,--then immediately added, “But perhaps -you will have no objection, madam, to remain here until my son shall -have made his preparations for departure?” - -“Oh! certainly.” cried the young woman, her lip curling haughtily. -“Think not, sir, that I shall condescend to use any arts in order to -win him back to me;--although well aware am I that if I chose to do so, -I should speedily behold him languishing at my feet.” - -Scarcely were these words uttered, when Rosalie entered the room, and -addressing herself to Mr. Hatfield, said, “My master, sir, is waiting -for you below.” - -The abigail, who was evidently at a loss to comprehend the nature of -all that was going on,--though she saw enough to convince her that -something very uncommon and unusual was taking place,--retired as soon -as she had delivered this message;--and Mr. Hatfield, as he glanced -towards Perdita while bowing to take his leave, observed that her -countenance had again grown marble-like with pallor. - -For now that the conviction that Charles was really gone was forced -upon her mind, a pang of regret struck to her heart,--regret to lose -one--_the first_--whom she had ever really loved;--and for a few -instants she felt as if all her affection for him had suddenly revived -with tenfold violence. - -But this weakness on her part was speedily dissipated: her pride -resumed its empire,--and she remembered likewise that her connexion -with him had not only put her in possession of a large sum of ready -money, but had likewise assured her of a handsome annual income for the -remainder of her days. - -Thus, almost before Mr. Hatfield had reached the room-door, the colour -had returned to her cheeks,--and her countenance became radiant with -triumph,--for she murmured to herself, as she contrasted her present -position with that in which she had first set foot on European soil, -“It is my beauty that has done all this!” - - - - -CHAPTER CLIII. - -FATHER AND SON. - - -Mr. Hatfield found his son waiting for him in the coffee-room; and, -entering the _citadine_, or one-horse hackney-coach, in which the -former had arrived, they proceeded to the hotel at which he had put up, -and which was in the Place Vendôme. - -It was now past eleven o’clock; for the incidents related in the two -preceding chapters, had occupied two full hours:--and, during that -interval, how many revelations had been made--what changes of feeling -effected--what new emotions engendered--what bright visions destroyed! - -Yet such is human life;--and two minutes, instead of two hours, are -often sufficient to hurl down the finest fabrics of happiness which the -imagination has ever built up in the realms of fancy or the sphere of -reality. - -On arriving at the hotel in the Place Vendôme, the father and son -repaired to the apartment occupied by the former; and Charles threw -himself on a sofa, as if exhausted and overwhelmed by the terrible -excitement he had undergone that morning. - -Mr. Hatfield related to him all that had passed between Perdita and -himself after the young man had quitted the room; and Charles was -rejoiced,--if rejoiced he could be in the midst of the strange thoughts -and reminiscences which crowded upon him,--to learn that the family -papers were secure in his father’s possession. - -“And those papers shall no longer be a source of alarm and -embarrassment to those whom they so deeply regard,” said Mr. Hatfield, -when he had brought his brief narrative to a conclusion: then, ringing -the bell, he ordered the waiter who answered the summons to bring him a -lighted candle. - -This command was speedily obeyed; and when the domestic had retired, -Mr. Hatfield, having thrown all the documents upon the hearth, set -them alight. While they were consuming,--those precious papers, which -were worth an Earldom to him, did he choose to avail himself of the -proofs which they contained,--both himself and his son watched them -with a fixed gaze, but with different emotions. For Charles sighed as -he thought of the bright dreams which the perusal of those papers had -so lately excited in his imagination; and Mr. Hatfield experienced an -indescribable relief in witnessing their destruction. - -“Now,” he exclaimed, in a tone of triumph, “no living soul can dispute -my brother’s right to the rank which he bears and the estates which -he possesses! Nor think, Charles,” he added, turning to his son, and -speaking in a calmer and more measured voice,--“think not that it -costs me a pang thus to dispose of these papers. The flame has died -away--naught save a heap of tinder remains--and I have willingly and -cheerfully resigned the power of ever doing mischief, or being made -the instrument of wrong, towards a brother to whom I owe so much. -But enough of this: and now tell me, Charles, in details as ample -as you can bring your mind to endure, the whole particulars of your -unfortunate connexion with these women, in order to convince me that -nothing more remains to be accomplished to rid ourselves completely of -them. For you must remember that though we have managed to dispose of -the daughter, the mother still possesses a knowledge of many secrets -which we would not have revealed.” - -Charles immediately complied with his father’s request, and narrated -how Mrs. Fitzhardinge had accosted him in the street,--how she had -spoken mysteriously, and thereby induced him to accompany her to -Suffolk Street,--how he had there found himself in the presence of -Perdita,--and how Mrs. Fitzhardinge on a subsequent occasion mentioned -certain family matters evincing her knowledge of special secrets which -she alleged to have been revealed to her by the gipsy Miranda. - -“Then it was not from your lips that she first learnt the circumstances -connected with myself!” said Mr. Hatfield, interrogatively. - -“No: she particularly mentioned the gipsy as her authority for all she -knew and alluded to,” was the reply. - -“But the gipsy was unaware of the fact of my mother’s marriage with the -late Earl of Ellingham,” observed Mr. Hatfield; “and consequently she -was ignorant of the legitimacy of my birth and the rights belonging to -me thereupon.” - -“Oh! now a light breaks in upon my mind!” exclaimed Charles. “I -remember that she was surprised when I told her that I was a young -nobleman, as I did then really believe myself to be; and I likewise -recollect that she afterwards spoke to me in a manner which, while -pretending a full and perfect acquaintance with all our family affairs, -led me to give answers which were doubtless revelations of secrets to -her. But all this did not strike me at the time: now, however, that the -film has been removed from my eyes, I behold things in a clearer and -truer light.” - -“Yes--and I also can understand this matter,” said Mr. Hatfield, after -a few moments’ deep thought “On their return to England, these women -must have fallen in with Miranda: from her lips they heard enough to -put them in possession of secrets which they doubtless intended to use -for the purpose of extorting money from _me_ through _you_. Then your -infatuation in respect to the daughter, led you to speak to the mother -in such a random, inconsiderate manner as to make her more fully aware -of our family’s position. Thus, while affecting to know all, she drew -from you those details which filled up the chapters that were wanting -in the history as Miranda originally told it. Yes--this must be the -truth and the explanation of the whole affair;--and now it remains for -us to hasten to England without delay, and, in case the old woman shall -be relieved from the charge at present existing against her, purchase -her secrecy and her exile in the same way as we have arranged with her -daughter.” - -“But how can I face my mother?” asked Charles, in a tone expressive of -the deepest grief: “how meet the Earl of Ellingham, whom I have sought -to injure--and Lady Frances, to whom I have conducted myself in so -scandalous a manner?” - -“Now you recognise the impropriety of your behaviour towards her!” -exclaimed Mr. Hatfield. “Oh! I am rejoiced to perceive that your heart -is open to impressions of such a saving nature!” - -“The incidents of this day have made me an altered man,” said Charles, -emphatically. - -“Then am I almost happy that they have occurred!” cried his father. -“The teachings have been bitter--bitter indeed, my poor boy; but the -results may constitute an ample recompense alike to yourself and your -parents. _We_ have recovered a son--_you_ have acquired an experience -ten thousand times more valuable than the best precepts ever inculcated -by mortal tongue.” - -“Oh! this is true--most true, father!” exclaimed Charles. “But you have -not answered the questions--the painful questions--which I have put to -you.” - -“First, then, with regard to your mother,” responded Mr. Hatfield, -“you know that she will receive you with open arms. In respect to the -Earl, he must be told all--every thing; and you may count upon his -generosity. But it is with reference to Lady Frances Ellingham, who -loves you--from whom the causes of your flight have been carefully -concealed--and who cannot be informed of your sad connexion with a -profligate woman,--Oh! it is in regard to her, that I know not how to -act--that I am bewildered--cruelly embarrassed!” - -“Remember, my dear father,” said Charles, in a tone of deep humility, -“that henceforth I shall do your bidding in all things. You have but to -speak--and I obey.” - -“Think not, my dear son,” answered Mr. Hatfield, “that I shall claim of -you a deference incompatible with your age and social position--or that -I shall attempt to exercise an authority that may seem to have borrowed -any taint of severity from the experience of the past. No: but I shall -counsel and advise you as a friend--and in your best interest shall I -ever speak. On our arrival in London, we will not return immediately to -Pall Mall; but we will repair to an hotel, whence I will send privately -for the Earl; and his advice will assist me in respect to the course to -be observed towards his amiable daughter. And now, Charles, do you feel -yourself capable of commencing at once our journey homeward?--or are -you too much exhausted----” - -“No--no: let us depart from Paris without delay!” exclaimed the young -man. “I have no longer any object in remaining here.” - -Mr. Hatfield rang the bell; and a waiter made his appearance. - -“A chaise-and-four as speedily as possible,” was the laconic command -given; “and you must have our passports backed for Boulogne or Calais.” - -The domestic bowed and withdrew. - -Two hours afterwards the father and son were seated together in the -chaise, which was rolling rapidly along the road to Saint Denis. - -“I will now give you some account of the adventures which I -experienced in pursuit of you,” said Mr. Hatfield, who felt that the -silence previously existing between himself and Charles was growing -painful: for they had not uttered a word from the moment they entered -the vehicle until Mr. Hatfield now spoke--an interval of nearly -half-an-hour. - -“I shall be pleased to hear them,” observed the young man, anxious -to divert his thoughts from the painful topics that were naturally -occupying them: “for I must confess that I am at a loss to conjecture -how you happened to fall in with the officers at Dover, and how you -were enabled to trace me to the hotel where you this morning found me.” - -“The explanation of all this is readily given,” said Mr. Hatfield; and -as the chaise was rolling along the unpaved part of the road, there was -no effort necessary to make his voice audible. “I shall commence with -the incidents of the morning on which you quitted London in company -with the two females whose pernicious influence has worked so much -mischief. You remember that a most painful interview took place between -yourself and me in the library, and that you burst away--perhaps just -at the moment when explanations might have arisen to convince you of -the futility of your ambitious hopes and golden visions in respect -to birth and title. Shortly after you thus left me, the Earl entered -the room; and a conversation which took place, led to the mention of -the secret papers. He sought for them in the recess to which he had -consigned them--and they were gone. At the same moment I obtained -the conviction that the _Annual Register_ for a certain year, and -containing a certain dreadful narrative, had been lately read. Then a -light broke in upon the Earl and myself; and we penetrated the motives -of the strange conduct you had recently observed towards your parents. -At this juncture, Mr. Clarence Villiers made his appearance; and, on -consulting him, we learnt to our dismay that the women who passed under -the name Fitzhardinge were his aunt and cousin,--Mrs. Slingsby, who -was transported years ago for forgery--and Perdita, her illegitimate -child, born in Newgate, a few weeks previous to her departure. You may -conceive the anguish which we endured when we found that you had become -connected with such women; and Villiers hastened to Suffolk Street to -obtain an interview with you.” - -“Would to God that he had succeeded in finding me--that my departure -with those wretches had been only delayed a few minutes!” cried -Charles, still a prey to the most harrowing feelings. - -[Illustration] - -“Alas! you had already fled,” continued Mr. Hatfield; “and when -Villiers returned to communicate this fact, an instantaneous pursuit -was resolved upon. Clarence took one road--the Earl another--and I -chose the road to Dover. I was mounted on a good horse, and must -have inevitably overtaken you before you had proceeded many miles, -when, on turning an angle of the road, I suddenly encountered a light -chaise-cart that was turning the corner at a furious rate. The shock -was violent; and I was hurled from my horse with such force that I was -stunned by the fall. When I recovered my senses I was lying on a bed -at a small road-side tavern; and a candle was burning in the room. It -was night: hours had elapsed since the accident which had occurred; -and during that long interval I had remained senseless--unconscious of -all that was passing. A surgeon had been sent for from Greenwich, near -which place the accident occurred; and he was an ignorant quack who had -adopted no effective measures to recover me. But nature had at length -asserted her empire in that where medical mismanagement had necessarily -failed to produce any good result; and I recovered my powers of -thought--only to experience the bitterest anguish at the delay that -had taken place. Ill and suffering as I was, I endeavoured to rise, -with the determination of pursuing my journey; but this was impossible. -For in the first place I was too much exhausted to leave the couch on -which I was thus helplessly stretched; and, secondly, I learnt, to my -increased annoyance, that my horse was injured in a serious manner. To -be brief, I resigned myself to the necessity of at least remaining a -few hours longer in that place; and a deep sleep came over me. In the -morning I awoke, much refreshed, though still suffering from the pain -of the severe contusions that I had received. All hope of continuing -my journey on horseback was destroyed; and I accordingly procured a -post-chaise in which I hastened on to Dover. There I arrived in the -afternoon; and by accident I put up at the same hotel where you and -your female companions had stopped. On inquiring I heard that yourself -and the young lady had departed for Calais in the morning, and that the -old one had been arrested on her way to the port, in consequence of -a communication received by electric telegraph from London. No steam -vessel was to leave for France until the following day; and I was -therefore compelled to wait patiently at the hotel. Patiently, indeed! -No--_that_ was impossible;--for all these delays were maddening, under -the circumstances. But I will not dwell at unnecessary length on any -portion of my narrative--much less upon the nature of the feelings -which I experienced at that time. In the evening I dined in the -coffee-room--if the mere mockery of sitting down to table and eating -nothing can be called dining; and, while I was thus seated at a repast -which I did not touch, I was suddenly interested in a conversation -which was taking place between two officers who were discussing a -bottle of wine at an adjacent table.” - -“Oh! I ought to have perceived that there was something mysterious -and wrong in that adventure upon the Marine Parade!” cried Charles, -literally savage with himself at his blindness and folly. “But I was so -completely infatuated by that artful, designing creature----” - -“I must implore you to compose yourself,” interrupted Mr. Hatfield, -in an earnest but kind tone: “for if I am now relating to you all -that occurred to me, it is only that you may become acquainted with -everything, and have nothing left behind as a cause for future -excitement. Therefore I will be explicit with you respecting the -substance of the conversation which was passing between those -officers in the manner I have described. Indeed, you may conceive -my astonishment when I overheard one of them mention the name of -_Perdita_; for that is by no means a common one--and perhaps this woman -is the only being on the face of the earth who bears it. I accordingly -listened--and in a short time the whole adventure which had taken -place on the Parade the evening before, became known to me. Then I -addressed myself to the two officers, stating that I had overheard -their remarks, apologising for my rudeness in listening, but excusing -myself on the ground that the young gentleman whom they had seen with -Perdita was nearly allied to me, and that I was, in fact, in pursuit of -him. They assured me that no apology was necessary; and I joined them -in conversation. Then was it that I learnt a dreadful tale of female -depravity; for it appears that Perdita became indeed the ‘_Lost One_’ -at a very early age, and that her favours were distributed in Sydney to -any good-looking young man who might happen to please her fancy.” - -“Vile--detested Perdita!” ejaculated Charles, almost gnashing his teeth -with rage. - -“Yes--you must know her character fully, my poor boy,” said Mr. -Hatfield; “for fear that she should ever again endeavour to exercise -her syren influence upon you.” - -“Oh, such an attempt would be utter madness on her part!” cried -Charles, now speaking with every symptom of the deepest indignation -and even loathing. “But what more said the officers whom you thus -singularly encountered?” - -“It appears,” continued Mr. Hatfield, “that Perdita was not thoroughly -depraved in the sense in which we allude to an unfortunate woman who -plies her hideous trade for bread. No--she bartered not her charms -for gold. Indeed, though very poor, she would scarcely ever receive -any recompense from her favourites--unless delicately conveyed in the -form of presents. But money she never took: her pride revolted at -_that_,--and it was purely through the wantonness of her disposition -and the burning ardour of her temperament that she plunged headlong -into a career of licentiousness.” - -“And I to have fallen the victim to such a polluted wretch!” exclaimed -the young man. - -“At Sydney,” continued Mr. Hatfield, “she was looked upon as a -species of prodigy. Endowed with an intellect as powerful as her -beauty was great, and possessing extraordinary natural abilities, -she listened with eagerness to the conversation of those officers -and other gentlemen who became her favourites, and treasured up all -the information she could thus acquire. She was also fond of reading -the newspapers sent from England, and all works treating of the -mother-country and the principal nations of Europe; and thus she -gleaned a vast amount of miscellaneous knowledge, fitting her to -become a woman of the world. With singular facility, too, she studied -and appropriated the gentility of gait, demeanour, and manners which -she observed in her superiors; and the very bearing of the ladies in -Sydney, as they walked abroad, was noted and adopted by her. Thus -even in her poverty, to which she clung rather than surrender up her -independence by becoming a wife or a kept mistress--for she might have -been either--even in her poverty, I say, there was an air of lofty -pride and calm hauteur about her, which would have led a stranger to -fancy that she had sprung from an aristocratic stock, whose family -fortunes had decayed. Moreover, her spirit was indomitable and fiery; -and she knew full well how to avenge an insult. Did she receive -overtures from any one who was displeasing to her, she would reject -them with scorn; and, if possible, she would punish the adventurous -suitor, in one way or another, for his insolence in addressing her. -It was her delight at times to throw around herself--her deeds--her -words--and even her entire character, a veil of mystery, and to affect -an eccentricity of habits and a singularity of manner which made many -ignorant and credulous people imagine that she was a being of no common -order. Amongst those who might be properly styled her equals, she was -reserved, cold, and distant; and even to those whom, in the same sense, -we may denominate her superiors, she demeaned herself condescendingly, -as if conferring a favour on them by her presence. In her amours, she -maintained this singular pride, as if she were a Catherine of Russia, -inviting her lovers to her arms, but never yielding to an invitation -that might come from them. In a word, this Perdita was looked upon as -the most remarkable, and at the same time the most unintelligible--the -most incomprehensible character at Sydney; and even the most -respectable persons were anxious to have her pointed out to them, when -they walked abroad. Endowed with such a splendid intellect--possessed -of such rare and almost superhuman loveliness--robing herself, as it -were, in mystery--and evincing so proud a spirit, as well as such -an aptitude for the self-appropriation of the refinements and the -etiquette of genteel breeding,--it cannot be wondered at if Perdita -should have been regarded in no common light by the inhabitants of -the penal settlement. But from all I have now told you, Charles, -it is easy for you to comprehend how dangerous is the character of -such a woman--how completely she must be the mistress of every art -in the school of hypocrisy, guile, and deceit; and if I have been -thus elaborate in my details respecting her--if I have thus minutely -recapitulated all that I learnt from the two officers at Dover--it is -simply to place you more effectually upon your guard with reference to -that syren----” - -“I have already said,” interrupted Charles, speaking with the vehemence -of sincerity and of deep conviction, “that never--never could she -resume her empire over me! Oh! my dear father, the lesson has been too -terrible not to have served as a warning; and sooner would I seek the -embrace of a hideous serpent, than suffer myself to be allured back -to the arms of Perdita. And--oh!” ejaculated the young man, a sudden -reminiscence flashing to his mind, “I should have taken warning, days -and days ago; for I recollect a fearful dream which I had, and which -I must now look upon as providential! Madman that I was to neglect so -solemn a foreshadowing of the truth!” - -“Compose yourself, Charles,” cried Mr. Hatfield; “and now let me finish -my narrative. I had reached that point which related to my accidental -interview with the officers at Dover, where I was compelled to pass -the night--a night of cruel and torturing suspense! Next morning, I -crossed to Calais, and there I obtained a trace of you at Dessin’s -hotel. Without delay I took a post-chaise, and hurried on in pursuit. I -reached Paris at five last evening, and put up at the hotel whence we -started just now. But I had not any time to lose, for I felt convinced -that you intended to marry Perdita. I accordingly hurried off to the -British Embassy, either to know the worst, if the worst were indeed -already accomplished--or to take any measures I could to anticipate the -ceremony, in case it should not have been as yet performed. But I could -not obtain any satisfactory intelligence; no one to whom I addressed -myself was able to state whether certain persons whom I described had -been married during the day or not. I drove to the dwelling of the -chaplain--but he had gone a few miles into the country. I found out the -abode of his clerk--but this official was likewise from home. Almost -distracted, I sped to the Prefecture of Police to ascertain if it were -possible to discover your address in Paris, knowing that the landlords -of all hotels are under the necessity of making daily returns of the -names of their lodgers to the proper authorities. But I found the -Prefecture closed for the night; and I returned, exhausted with fatigue -and disconsolate in mind, to the hotel. Summoning the _commissionaire_, -I gave him the necessary instructions to make particular inquiries -at the Prefecture, the moment that establishment should open in the -morning. This he promised to do, and I retired to bed--but not to rest!” - -“Oh! my dear father,” exclaimed Charles, seizing his parent’s hand, and -pressing it with fervour to his lips, “how can you ever pardon me for -all the uneasiness I have occasioned you?--and if _you_ can, how shall -I hope to receive the forgiveness of my mother, when she learns all the -sorrow you have endured on my account?” - -“It is not, perhaps, necessary that your mother should be made -acquainted with _every thing_,” observed Mr. Hatfield, emphatically: -“but all this will depend upon circumstances--especially on the results -of our previous and private interview with Lord Ellingham. As for you -and me, Charles, we have already forgiven each other every thing,” said -Mr. Hatfield, in a solemn tone. “And now my narrative has reached its -conclusion,” he added; “for shortly after eight o’clock this morning, -the _commissionaire_ came and informed me that he had discovered the -hotel where you were residing. You know the rest.” - -Charles sighed, but made no answer, and the journey was continued for a -long time in profound silence. - - - - -CHAPTER CLIV. - -MRS. FITZHARDINGE. - - -Return we now to Mrs. Fitzhardinge, whom the officers of justice had -arrested at Dover, on suspicion of being concerned in the murder of Mr. -Percival, the miser. - -The old woman, when made acquainted with the cause of her apprehension, -was completely thunder-struck; for, in truth, she had not even heard -until that moment of the dreadful deed which had taken place. But -the Dover constables who took her into custody, and who were in -plain clothes, insisted upon her accompanying them to London; and, -yielding to the imperious necessity with as good a grace as possible, -Mrs. Fitzhardinge cherished that consolation that her innocence must -inevitably become apparent when the case should undergo a magisterial -investigation. - -For a variety of reasons, she made no mention of her daughter and -Charles, who, she doubted not, had embarked in safety; neither did -she volunteer any explanations relative to her acquaintance with -Mr. Percival, or the business which she had with him on the night -when, as it appeared, the murder was committed. She had already -in her life passed through the ordeal of arrest--examination at a -police-court--committal--trial--and condemnation--aye, and expiation -also; and she was well aware that unseasonable garrulity, or -explanatory remarks inconsiderately volunteered, seldom benefit even -the innocent person when unjustly accused. She accordingly shrouded -herself, or, rather, took refuge in a complete silence, from which the -officers did not seek to draw her, as they all proceeded together by -railway to London. - -On their arrival in the metropolis at a somewhat late hour in the -afternoon, Mrs. Fitzhardinge was consigned to Clerkenwell prison, where -she passed the night; and at ten o’clock on the following morning -she was removed in a cab to Marylebone police-court, to undergo an -examination relative to the serious charge existing against her. - -The prisoner, who had retained counsel in her behalf, and made other -arrangements for her defence, appeared perfectly cool and collected; -and although the sinister expression of her countenance might have told -somewhat in her disfavour, in the estimation of common observers, yet, -to the eye of the experienced magistrate, it spoke not of guilt in this -instance. Nevertheless, that very experience which he possessed taught -him not to judge either way by outward appearances; and he therefore -prepared himself to give the matter the most searching investigation. - -The first witness examined was Mrs. Dyer, who deposed as follows:--“I -occupy a house adjoining that of the deceased. At half-past eleven -o’clock on the night in question, I returned home from the dwelling of -a friend in the neighbourhood, and saw deceased at his door, taking -leave of two females. He had a light in his hand. One of the women, who -seemed by her figure and general appearance to be young, was at the -garden-gate; and I could not see her countenance. The light which the -deceased carried fell fully upon the face of the other female; and I -therefore obtained a good view of her. The prisoner at the bar is the -female alluded to.” - -Mrs. Dyer then narrated how she and her lodgers had discovered the -murder on the ensuing morning; but these details are already known to -the reader. - -The inspector of police who had the case in hand, was next examined, -and his deposition was to the following effect:--“In consequence of the -information I received from Mrs. Dyer, immediately after the murder -was discovered, I instituted certain inquiries, and ascertained, in -the course of the morning, that an old and a young woman had taken a -cab in the neighbourhood of the Angel at Islington, on the previous -night, which was the one in question. They drove to Suffolk-street, -Pall Mall, where the young lady paid the driver his fare from a heavy -and well-filled purse. The driver gave me a description of the elder -female; and that description tallied with the one already given by Mrs. -Dyer. I thereupon repaired to Suffolk-street, and learnt that the two -women had taken their departure in a post-chaise, between nine and ten -o’clock that morning. This was the morning after the murder. Previous -to their departure, they were joined by a young gentleman who went away -with them. He had called on several occasions at the lodgings; and his -name was----” - -Here the magistrate interposed, and said that it might not be necessary -to mention this name publicly, as there was nothing to implicate the -gentleman referred to. - -The inspector accordingly proceeded thus:--“The chaise was sent for -in a great hurry, and its destination was unknown to the landlady and -servants of the house. No previous intimation of the intended departure -of the lodgers had been given. They settled all their liabilities -before they left. The prisoner at the bar paid the rent and other -little matters owing; but did not display any large sum of money. -Having ascertained all these particulars, I sent a description of the -elder female to the various railways having electric telegraphs; and -the prisoner at the bar was apprehended at Dover, in consequence of the -information thus conveyed.” - -Upon being cross-examined by the learned gentleman for the defence, -the inspector fairly and impartially deposed as follows:--“The stake -with which the murder was evidently perpetrated, was found by the side -of the corpse. It was taken from a piece of unenclosed waste ground -at the back of the house. I believe this to be the fact, because I -have discovered a hole from which a stake had most likely been taken; -and the stake now produced fits that hole. I also discovered marks of -footsteps between the back door of the house and the spot where the -stake had been pulled up. Those marks are of a man’s boots. The soil -of some part of the waste ground is moist and damp. There are marks on -the window-ledge of the back parlour, as if some one with dirty boots -or shoes had clambered up and stood there. The shutters have numerous -heart-holes in them, so that a person standing up on the ledge, outside -the window could see into the back parlour. I discovered no traces -of any female footsteps on the waste ground neither are there two -descriptions of marks. They are all produced by the same sized boots. -The door-post of the back gate was cut away from the outside. Whoever -did it must have known the precise place where the bolt fitted into the -door-post in the inside. The cutting away rendered it easy to force -back the bolt with the fingers. The work of cutting was performed, -I should say, with a knife--most probably a pocket or clasp-knife. -It must have taken half an hour at the least to accomplish; and the -hand that did it must have been tolerably strong. There are marks of -footsteps, indicated in the same manner as those on the window-ledge, -up the stairs from the back door to the back parlour. The lock of the -back door so often alluded to, was picked from the outside.” - -The inspector’s evidence terminated here; and the counsel for Mrs. -Fitzhardinge recalled Mrs. Dyer. - -“Will you state, as accurately as you can, the hour when you returned -home on the night of the murder?” he asked. - -“Half-past eleven, sir,” was the answer. - -“That will do,” said the learned gentleman, who forthwith proceeded -to call the driver of the cab which Mrs. Fitzhardinge and Perdita had -taken on the night in question. “At what hour,” he demanded, “did the -prisoner and the young lady who accompanied her hire your vehicle?” - -“It was twelve o’clock,” replied the man. “I am sure it was precisely -midnight, because I had just left a public-house when I was hailed by -the ladies.” - -This witness was ordered to stand down; and the landlady of the house -in Suffolk-street was called next. She deposed that she was sitting up -for her lodgers on the night in question, and that they reached home -at twenty minutes to one. She was certain as to the correctness of her -statement, because she looked at the clock in the passage as she passed -by to let the ladies in. There was nothing confused in their manner. -She attended them to the door of their bed-chamber, and did not observe -that their shoes were at all soiled with damp clay. She was convinced -that they did not leave the house again that night. The ladies had -always appeared to have plenty of money from the very day they entered -her dwelling. - -The learned counsel then proceeded to address the magistrate on behalf -of Mrs. Fitzhardinge. He began by remarking on the meagre nature of -the evidence against her--the mere fact that she and the young lady -who was with her, and who was her daughter, were the last persons seen -in the company of the murdered man;--and he complained bitterly that -his client should have been arrested--ignominiously brought back to -London--and forced through the ordeal of a public examination on such -a shallow pretence. Every circumstance, adduced that morning--every -feature of the evidence, tended only to exculpate the prisoner -at the bar. In the first place, it was clear, from the testimony -recorded, that the prisoner and her daughter had quitted the house -of the deceased at half-past eleven--had taken a cab at the Angel at -midnight--and had driven straight home, reaching Suffolk-street at -twenty minutes to one. Now the distance from the scene of the murder -to the Angel would require rapid walking for two females to accomplish -in half an hour, and leave not an instant to accomplish the crime -before they set out, much less to cut away the door-post, ransack the -deceased’s boxes, and so forth. From the Angel they were traced home, -and they did not leave the house again that night. Now, the evidence of -the inspector of police tended, to show incontestibly that the murder -had been perpetrated by a man. He (the learned counsel) was instructed -to state that Mrs. Fitzhardinge and her daughter had called upon Mr. -Percival for the purpose of obtaining the discount of a bill; that -he did discount the document, and that he left his cash-box open on -the table during the negotiation. It was presumable that some man, -who probably knew the premises well, had clambered up against the -back-window, had beheld the cash-box and its contents, and, during the -night, had perpetrated the bloody deed. The speedy departure of the -prisoner, her daughter, and the gentleman who had been alluded to, on -the morning following that night of the crime, was occasioned by the -fact that the young people contemplated a matrimonial alliance unknown -to the gentleman’s parents; and the means of travelling having been -procured by the discount already mentioned, there was no necessity to -delay the departure for Paris any longer. This was the simple and plain -explanation of the suddenly undertaken journey and the precipitate -decampment from Suffolk-street. But the ladies did not act as if they -had committed a crime, nor their male companion as if he had been an -accomplice in one; for they travelled by post-chaise instead of by -rail, to Dover; and there they waited quietly until the steam-packet -left next morning, instead of hiring some small craft, as they might -have done, to waft them across, the same night of their arrival, to -Calais. Again, if the prisoner and her daughter had even entertained -such a fearful idea as that of depriving the miser of his life for -the sake of his gold, they would have had a better opportunity of -carrying it into execution while alone with him in his back parlour, -than by the roundabout manner suggested by the nature of the charge -against Mrs. Fitzhardinge. During the short time the two ladies had -dwelt at the lodgings in Suffolk-street they had not been embarrassed -for want of funds; nor even when they sought the aid of the discounter -was their need so pressing, much less was it of that desperate nature -which could alone prompt to such a dreadful alternative as murder. The -reason why the assistance of the deceased was sought at all, could be -readily explained by the avowal that the bill to be discounted was not -a security which any other class of money-lenders would entertain: it -was the promissory note of a young gentleman raising cash upon his -expectations, and therefore of a character suiting only the purposes of -a discounter who took an amount of interest proportionate to the risk -which he ran. In conclusion, the learned gentleman insisted that there -was not a shadow of evidence against his client. - -The magistrate acquiesced in this view of the case, and discharged Mrs. -Fitzhardinge forthwith. She was, however, compelled to repair from the -Marylebone Police-court to the tavern where the coroner was holding -an adjourned inquest upon the body; but the result of her examination -before the magistrate being communicated to that functionary, she was -not detained on his authority. A verdict of “Wilful murder against some -person or persons unknown” was returned, and the old woman once more -found herself at liberty. - -The evidence given by the inspector of police at the Marylebone court, -and repeated in the presence of the coroner, had excited certain -suspicions in the mind of Mrs. Fitzhardinge; and the more she pondered -upon the subject--the more she reflected upon the occurrences at -Percival’s house on the night of the murder, and the details of the -manner in which the deed itself must have been accomplished, the more -confident did she become that she could name the assassin. - -Had circumstances permitted, she would have remained in London to -ferret out the individual whom she thus associated with the crime: -but she could not now spare the time; for she was anxious to proceed, -without delay, to Paris, and join her daughter and Charles Hatfield, -who, she had no doubt, had reached that capital in safety. - -Her examination at the police-court, and her attendance at the inquest, -had however consumed the entire day; and she therefore waited until -the next morning, when she departed by the first train for Folkestone, -at which town she arrived in time to embark on board a steamer for -Boulogne. - -In order that we may accurately show the precise time when Mrs. -Fitzhardinge reached Paris, we must request our readers to observe, -that on the same day that Charles and Perdita crossed the water to -Calais, the old woman was borne back to London by the constables: -on the following day, while they were journeying towards the French -capital, she was undergoing the examination already recorded;--on -the third day, when they were married at the British Ambassador’s -chapel, she was hastening to join them;--and it was, therefore, in the -after-part of the fourth day, being the one on which the separation of -Charles and her daughter had occurred, that Mrs. Fitzhardinge entered -Paris in the _diligence_, or stage-coach--thoroughly wearied out by the -fatigue, annoyance, and excitement she had lately undergone. - -The old woman repaired to an hotel in the immediate neighbourhood of -the office where the coach stopped; and, having changed her apparel, -drove forthwith in a hackney vehicle to the British Embassy: for it -must be remembered that she was entirely ignorant of every thing that -had taken place in respect to her daughter and Charles since she had -been separated from them, and knew not where they had put up in Paris. -Indeed, she even had her misgivings whether they were in the French -capital at all, or whether they might not have set out upon some tour -immediately after their marriage; for that they were already united -in matrimonial bonds, she had no doubt. That they had returned to -Dover to look for her, she did not flatter herself; inasmuch as she -had latterly seen enough of Perdita’s altered disposition to be fully -aware that all maternal authority or filial affection were matters -which the young lady was more inclined to treat with contempt than -with serious consideration. But Mrs. Fitzhardinge was resolved not to -be thrust aside without an effort to regain the maternal authority: as -for the filial affection, her soul--tanned, hardened, rendered rough -and inaccessible, and with all its best feelings irremediably blunted -by the incidents of her stormy life--her soul, we say, experienced but -a slight pang at the idea of having to renounce that devotedness which -it is usually a mother’s joy and delight to receive at the hands of a -daughter. - -No; the aim of this vile intriguing woman was merely the -re-establishment of her former ascendancy over her daughter,--by fair -means or by foul--by conciliation or intimidation--by ministering to -her vanity and her pride, or by working on her fears--by rendering -herself necessary to her, or by reducing her to subjection through a -course of studied despotism and tyranny. Her imagination pictured the -voluptuous and impassioned Perdita clinging to her young husband as -to something which had become necessary to her very existence, and -from which it were death to part; and she chuckled within herself, as -she muttered between her lips,--“The girl would have this marriage; -and it shall be made in my hands a means to subdue her! For in her -tenderest moments--when reading love in _his_ eyes, and looking love -with _her own_,--when wrapt in Elysian dreams and visions of ineffable -bliss--then will I steal near her, and whisper in her ear, ‘Perdita, -you must yield to me in all things; or with a word--a single word--will -I betray you to that fond, confiding fool; I will blast all your -happiness, and he shall cast thee away from him as a loathsome and -polluted thing!’” - -With such agreeable musings as these did Mrs. Fitzhardinge while away -the half-hour which the hackney-coach occupied in driving her from the -hotel to the British Embassy. It was now five o’clock in the evening, -and she fortunately found the chaplain’s clerk in an office to which -the gate-porter directed her to proceed. From the official to whom -she was thus referred, she learnt that Charles Hatfield and Perdita -Fitzhardinge were united in matrimonial bonds on the previous day; and -an inspection of the register, for which she paid a small fee, enabled -her to ascertain the address they had given as their place of abode in -the French capital. - -Satisfied with these results, Mrs. Fitzhardinge returned to the -vehicle, and ordered the coachman to drive her to an hotel which she -named, and which was the one mentioned in the register. We should -observe that the old woman spoke French with fluency; and thus she had -no difficulty in making herself understood in the gay city of Paris. - - - - -CHAPTER CLV. - -THE MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. - - -On arriving at the hotel indicated, Mrs. Fitzhardinge alighted, and -inquired of the porter whether Mr. and Mrs. Hatfield were residing -there. The man referred to a long list of names on a paper posted -against the wall; and, after running his eye down the column, -turned to the old woman with the laconic, but respectfully uttered -observation,--“Removed to No. 9, Rue Monthabor.” - -To this new address did Mrs. Fitzhardinge repair, without pausing to -ask any further question; and on her arrival at the entrance to a house -of handsome appearance in the street named, she inquired for Mr. and -Mrs. Hatfield. - -“Oh! it is all right,” said the porter. “I was told that if any persons -called to ask for Mrs. Hatfield, I was to direct them to the lady who -has taken the second floor.” - -Mrs. Fitzhardinge was somewhat surprised by this ambiguous answer: but -it instantly struck her that Charles might have assumed his title of -_Viscount Marston_, and that the name of _Hatfield_ would, therefore, -be unknown to the porter, had no particular instructions been left -with him. At all events, she was in too great a hurry to remain -bandying words with the man; and she accordingly hastened to ascend -to the second floor, which, we should observe by the way, is the most -fashionable in Parisian houses. - -But as she mounted the staircase, it struck her that the porter, when -replying to her query, had made no mention of any gentleman at all, but -had plainly and clearly spoken of “the lady who has taken the second -floor.” The old woman was puzzled--indeed, bewildered by the mystery -which suddenly appeared to envelope her; and a certain misgiving seized -upon her mind, the nature of which she could not precisely define. - -On gaining the marble landing of the second floor, she rang the bell at -the door of the suite of apartments on that flat, and was immediately -admitted by Rosalie into a handsomely furnished drawing-room. - -“Whom shall I mention to mademoiselle?” inquired the French lady’s-maid. - -“Her mother,” was the response. - -Rosalie withdrew; and Mrs. Fitzhardinge, seating herself upon an -elegant ottoman, cast her eyes around the splendid room. - -“Perdita is well lodged, at all events,” she mused inwardly. “But -somehow or another, there is a mystery which I cannot comprehend. The -porter spoke of no gentleman--the maid was equally silent on that head, -and alluded to her mistress as _mademoiselle_[12] and not as _madame_. -What can it mean?” - -At this moment the door opened, and Perdita made her appearance in -a charming _déshabillée_; for she had been assisting to arrange her -effects in her newly-hired ready-furnished apartments. - -The meeting between the mother and daughter was characterised by -nothing cordial--much less affectionate: there was no embracing--not -even a shaking of the hand, but only a mutual desire, hastily evinced -on either side, to receive explanations. - -“Where is Charles?” demanded Mrs. Fitzhardinge. - -“Gone,” was the laconic reply. - -“Gone!” ejaculated the old woman, now manifesting the most profound -astonishment. - -“Yes; gone--departed--never to return,” said Perdita, with some degree -of bitterness: then, in an altered tone, and with recovered calmness, -she asked, “But how have you managed respecting the accusation----” - -“Ah! then you have heard of _that_?” interrupted Mrs. Fitzhardinge, -with a subdued feeling of spite; for she thought that her daughter took -the matter very quietly. “I was taken back to London--examined at the -Marylebone Police-court--and discharged without much difficulty. Now, -in your turn, answer my next question--wherefore has Charles left you?” - -“In the first place,” said Perdita, “tell me how you discovered my -abode?”--and she fixed her large grey eyes in a searching manner upon -the old woman, as if to ascertain by that look the precise extent of -her mother’s knowledge relative to herself and Charles. - -“_That_ is speedily explained,” observed Mrs Fitzhardinge, who -instantly perceived that her daughter intended to reveal to her no -more than she was actually compelled to do, and it flashed to her -mind--she knew not why--that Perdita meant especially to throw a veil -over the fact of her marriage with Charles. Else, why had she not -immediately mentioned it?--why had she not hastened to satisfy her that -the alliance had indeed taken place? But if Perdita _had_ a motive in -concealing that fact, then the knowledge of the secret might sooner -or later prove serviceable to Mrs. Fitzhardinge; and she therefore -resolved to feign ignorance. All these thoughts and calculations swept -through the old woman’s brain in a moment; and she preserved the -while the most steady composure of countenance. “_That_ is speedily -explained,” she repeated. “I went to the Prefecture of Police, and -learnt your address.” - -“But you knew not by what name to ask for me,” said Perdita, still -keeping her eyes fixed on her mother’s countenance. - -“I inquired for you by the name of Fitzhardinge,” answered the old -woman, hazarding the falsehood; “and was referred to the hotel where -you and Charles had put up----” - -“And on your calling there?” asked Perdita, impatiently. - -“The porter laconically told me that you had removed hither,” returned -the old woman. “But what means the absence of Charles? and has he not -married you?” - -“No,” responded Perdita, reading in her mother’s countenance more -intently--more searchingly than hitherto: “he has played a perfidious -part, and deserted me.” - -“The villain!” ejaculated the old woman, affecting to give full -credence to the denial that the matrimonial alliance had taken place; -while, on the other hand, Perdita was completely deceived by her -mother’s profound duplicity. - -“The adventures I have experienced,” said Perdita, “have been numerous -and exciting. When every thing was settled for the ceremony to take -place, the father of Charles suddenly appeared upon the scene, and -exposed me in a cruel manner to his son. In fact, Mr. Hatfield proved -himself to be well acquainted with all--every thing--relating to -you and me; and he unsparingly availed himself of that knowledge. I -retaliated--I convinced him that his family affairs were no secret -to me;--and then he again assumed the part of one who triumphs in -defeating the hopes of another; for he produced unquestionable evidence -to the fact that his son is illegitimate, and entirely dependent upon -him.” - -“Ah!” ejaculated Mrs. Fitzhardinge, who now fancied that she read the -reason which had induced Perdita to conceal her marriage with the young -man. “Then, after all, your suitor is plain Charles Hatfield, and not -Viscount Marston?” - -“Such is indeed the case, mother,” returned Perdita; “and I think you -will agree with me that I have had a fortunate escape.” - -“I do congratulate you on that point,” answered the old woman, her -dissimulation continuing impenetrable. “But where have you obtained the -means to hire this handsome lodging?” - -“You cannot suppose that I allowed Mr. Hatfield and his son to depart -without making ample provision for me!” exclaimed Perdita. “No; I -displayed a too intimate acquaintance with all their family affairs to -permit them thus to abandon me. Besides, the very secret of the young -man’s illegitimacy--a secret which the father revealed in a moment of -excitement, produced by the discussion that took place between us--that -secret----” - -“I understand you, Perdita,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge: “it was necessary -to purchase your silence respecting a matter that involved the good -name and the honour of Lady Georgiana Hatfield. Well, have you made a -profitable bargain for yourself?” - -“A thousand pounds in ready money; and five hundred a year for life, on -condition that I return not to England,” was the response. - -“Good!” ejaculated the old woman, her eyes glistening with delight. - -“And I have adopted another name, for a variety of reasons,” continued -Perdita. “In the first place, having learnt from that hated Mr. -Hatfield of your arrest at Dover, and the nature of the charge -against you, I feared lest the whole thing should be blazoned in the -newspapers----” - -“Well, well,” interrupted her mother: “I understand! The name of -_Fitzhardinge_ would suit no longer. What is the new one?” - -“I have taken that of _Mortimer_,” answered the daughter. “Laura -Mortimer sounds prettily, I think?” - -“Then you have not even retained your Christian name?” said the old -woman, interrogatively. - -“No; for it is so uncommon, that it could not fail to excite attention, -wherever whispered,” was the reply. - -“In this case, I am to become Mrs. Mortimer?” continued the mother. - -“Precisely so; and as a matter of course, you will take up your abode -with me.” - -“You do not appear particularly unhappy at the loss of the young man -whom you fell so deeply in love with?” observed the old woman, whom we -must now denominate Mrs. Mortimer. - -“That dream has passed--gone by--vanished!” returned Laura--for by this -Christian name is Perdita to be henceforth known; and as she spoke, her -voice assumed a deep and even menacing tone. “Yes--that illusion is -dissipated; and, if circumstances permit, I will have vengeance where I -used to think only of love.” - -“To what circumstances do you allude?” demanded Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Can you not understand _my_ position--aye, and _your own_ position -also?” exclaimed Laura. “At present we are dependent, to a certain -degree, upon Mr. Hatfield, and must adhere to the conditions he imposed -upon me: that is to say, we must reside on the continent so long as -the income allowed by him shall be indispensably necessary. But the -moment that I can carve out a new career of fortune for myself, either -by a brilliant marriage, or by enchaining some wealthy individual in my -silken meshes,--the instant that I find myself in a condition to spurn -the aid of Mr. Hatfield’s purse, and can command treasures from another -quarter,--then, mother, _then_,” added Laura, emphatically, “will be -the time for vengeance! For, think you,” she continued, drawing herself -proudly up to her full height, while her nostrils dilated and her eyes -flashed fire,--“think you that, if I have loved as a woman, I will not -likewise be avenged as a woman? Oh! yes--yes; and welcome--most welcome -will be that day when I shall see myself independent of the purse of -Mr. Hatfield, and able to work out my vengeance after the manner of my -own heart! To be exposed by the father and discarded by the son--to -have the mask torn away from my countenance by the former, and be -looked upon with loathing and abhorrence by the latter,--oh, all this -is enough to drive me mad--mad! And if I retained a calm demeanour and -a stern composure of countenance in the presence of those men this -morning, it was only the triumph of an indomitable pride over feelings -wounded in the most sensitive point!” - -“Vengeance, indeed, is a pleasing consummation,” said the old woman: -then, after an instant’s pause, she added, “And I also have a vengeance -to gratify.” - -“You, mother!” ejaculated Laura, with unfeigned surprise. - -“Yes. You remember the night that we called upon Percival? Well, you -may recollect how he spoke of a certain visitor who had been with -him----” - -“Torrens--your husband,” observed Laura, quietly. - -“The same. He was the murderer of Percival,” added Mrs. Mortimer, her -countenance assuming an expression so fiend-like, that it was horrible -to behold. - -“How know you that?” demanded Laura, surprised. - -“I am convinced of it,” returned her mother. “Listen! On that night -when we visited the miser, Torrens had been with him: indeed, he had -departed from the house only the moment before we knocked at the door. -You remember that Percival said so? Well--and you also recollect that -Torrens was represented to be poor and very miserable? While we were -engaged with Percival, the cash-box was produced, and its contents -were displayed. A man clambered up to the window, and looked through -the holes in the shutters. This was proved at the police-office. We -departed, and the miser was left alone. The back gate was forced -open--or, rather, the wood-work was cut away in such a manner as to -allow the bolt to be shot back with the fingers--and the lock was -picked with a piece of iron. All this was done from the _outside_. -Then, again, the stake whereby the old man was killed was taken from a -piece of waste ground at the back of the house; and on the damp clayey -soil the marks of boots were discovered. The murder was therefore -perpetrated by the man whose footsteps were thus traced; and who -could that man be but Torrens? I have no doubt of the accuracy of my -conjectures.” - -“They are reasonable, at the least,” observed Laura. “But wherefore do -you trouble your head about him, when I require your assistance here in -a matter of importance?” - -“One moment, and you shall explain your views when I have made you -acquainted with mine,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “Percival was a rich man, -and that cash-box contained a treasure in notes and gold. Torrens -has, no doubt, concealed himself somewhere in London;--a man who has -committed such a crime invariably regards the metropolis itself as -the safest hiding-place. My design is to ferret him out, and compel -him by menaces to surrender into my keeping the treasure which he has -obtained. You and I, Perdita--Laura, I mean--will know how to spend -those thousands; and it will give me pleasure--unfeigned pleasure,” she -added, with a fearful expression of countenance, “to know that _he_ has -been plunged back again into misery and want.” - -“The project is a good one, mother,” said Laura; “and the money would -prove most welcome. Possessed of a few thousands of pounds, I would at -once act in complete independence of Mr. Hatfield. But wherefore this -bitter vengeance against the man who is still your husband?” - -“Because, when he was released from Newgate upwards of nineteen years -ago, when imprisoned there on suspicion of having murdered a certain -Sir Henry Courtenay,” said the old woman,--“when he was set free, I -tell you, I still languished a prisoner in that horrible gaol. And -he came not near me: he recognised me not--he loathed and abhorred -me; and I knew it! _You_, Laura, have felt how terrible it is to be -hated--shunned--forsaken by one on whom you have claims: _you_ are -still smarting under the conduct of Charles Hatfield. Can you not, -then, comprehend how I should cherish feelings of bitterness against -that sneaking coward--that base wretch, who was a partner in my -iniquity, and who abandoned me to my fate, doubtless hoping that a -halter would end my days, and for ever rid him of me.” - -“But you loved not that man, according to all I have ever heard you say -upon the subject,” returned Laura; “whereas,” she added, in a tone of -transitory softness, “I did--yes--I _did_ love Charles Hatfield.” - -“Granted the difference!” ejaculated Mrs. Mortimer; “and yet, even -making every possible allowance for that, there is still room enough -to admit the existence of my bitter hostility against Torrens. What! -was I not arrested the other day--dragged ignominiously back to -London--compelled to sleep in a prison; and forced to appear at the -bar of justice,--and all on account of _his_ crime! He reaped the -benefit--I the inconvenience, the fear, the exposure, and the disgrace! -It is true that I never loved him--never even liked him;--true, also, -that ours was a marriage of convenience--both suspecting, despising, -and abhorring each other. From the very first, then, I was his enemy; -and ever since I have cherished an undying animosity against him.” - -“Well, mother, I shall not attempt to interfere with your vengeance -any more than you will seek to mar the progress of mine. You have -given me an explanation of your views; and it is now my turn to speak. -This morning,” continued Laura, “my hopes were suddenly defeated, and -my golden dreams dissipated by the appearance of Mr. Hatfield. At -half-past eleven o’clock, I found myself deserted by him whom I had -loved, and alone as it were in a strange city. I instantly made up my -mind not to yield to sorrow or give way to grief; and when a woman, -placed in such circumstances, will not permit her tender feelings to -get the better of her pride--when, in fact, she takes refuge in that -very pride against the poignancy of sorrow--she necessarily conceives -thoughts of vengeance. For the pride which becomes her defence and her -shield in such a case, must be vindicated. I therefore determined to -cherish this hope of vengeance, and gratify that hope when the proper -time shall come. But, in the interval--and first of all--I must create -a brilliant social position for myself. On these matters I reflected -seriously this morning, so soon as Charles and his father had taken -their departure. Then, to a certain extent, I made a confidant of my -French lady’s-maid, who has already become deeply attached to me, -and in whom I speedily discovered a spirit of intrigue and a shrewd -disposition. At the same time, I told her nothing more than was -absolutely necessary to account for the abrupt departure of Charles -and my change of name; and even those explanations which I did give -her were not entirely true. In a word, I acted with caution, while I -secured her fidelity and devotion to my interests. Having thus come to -a certain understanding, as it were, we repaired to an agency-office, -kept by an Englishman, and made inquiries for furnished apartments in a -fashionable neighbourhood. The agent conducted us hither: I inspected -the suite--approved of it--paid a half-year’s rent in advance--and -removed into my new abode, where you now find me, at about three -o’clock this afternoon.” - -[Illustration] - -“You have lost no time in settling yourself thus far, at all events,” -observed Mrs. Mortimer. “But proceed: you have more yet to explain to -me.” - -“Only to observe that _your_ aid is now required, mother, to help me -to that brilliant position which I am determined to reach, and the -attainment of which will render us independent for the remainder of our -days.” - -“My aid and assistance you shall have, Laura--aye, and effectually -too,” returned the old woman, with difficulty concealing the joy and -triumph which she experienced on finding herself thus again appealed -to as a means to work out a grand design: “but a fortnight’s delay -will not prejudice your scheme. You will not lose one particle of your -beauty in that time: on the contrary, you will recover your wonted hues -of health--for your cheeks are somewhat pale this evening, and there is -a blueish tint around your eyes. Doubtless,” she added, with a slightly -malicious grin, “Charles Hatfield was a husband to you in everything -save the indissoluble bonds!” - -“No,” replied Laura, with an effrontery so cool, so complete, that, -had the old woman been questioning her daughter on suspicion only, and -not on a verified certainty, she would have been satisfied with that -laconic, but emphatic negative. - -“Ah! then your maudlin sentimentalism did not render you altogether -pliant and docile to the impetuous passions of that handsome young -man?” she observed. - -“Believing that we were to be married,” answered Laura, “I necessarily -refrained from compromising myself in his estimation. But wherefore -these questions, mother?”--and again the fine large eyes of the young -woman were fixed searchingly on Mrs. Mortimer’s countenance. - -“I had no particular motive in putting those queries,” was the -response, apparently delivered off hand, but in reality well weighed -and measured, as was every word that the artful old creature uttered -upon this occasion. “I was merely curious to learn whether your -prudence or your naturally voluptuous temperament had prevailed in the -strong wrestle that must have taken place between those feelings, while -you were travelling and dwelling alone with a handsome young man whom -you almost adored.” - -“Not quite alone, mother,” exclaimed Laura, impatiently. “Rosalie was -with us.” - -“Oh! the French lady’s maid, who is so shrewd in disposition, and who -manifests such an admirable capacity for intrigue!” cried the old -woman, unable to resist the opportunity of bantering her daughter a -little, in revenge for the cool insults which she herself had received -at the hands of that daughter during the last few days of their sojourn -in England. - -“Mother, have you sought me out only to revive a certain bitterness of -feeling which you so recently studied to provoke between us!” demanded -Laura, her countenance flushing with indignation; and when she had -ceased speaking, she bit her under-lip with her pearly teeth. - -“No, no: we will not dispute,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “But you must admit -that I warned you not to dream of marriage with that Charles Hatfield; -and, had you followed my advice, and stayed in London, you might have -retained him as a lover----” - -“Let us not talk of the past,” interrupted Laura, with an imperiousness -of manner which warned her mother not to provoke her farther. “The -present is assured, and we are at least independent; but the future is -before us--and _there_ is the sphere in which my hopes are soaring.” - -“To return, then, to the point whence I ere now diverged,” resumed -Mrs. Mortimer, “I will repeat my assertion that one fortnight’s delay -will not mar your plans. On the contrary, you will obtain physical -rest after the fatigues of travelling, and mental composure after -the excitement of recent occurrences. Your charms will be enhanced, -and you will thereby become the more irresistible. This fortnight’s -interval I require for my own purposes, as just now explained to you; -and, whatever be the result of my search after Torrens, I pledge myself -that, if alive and in health, I will return to you in the evening of -the fourteenth day from the present date.” - -“Agreed!” exclaimed Laura. “You purpose, therefore, to retrace your way -to London!” - -“Such is my intention. A night’s rest will be sufficient to recruit -my strength,” continued Mrs. Mortimer; “and to-morrow morning I shall -depart.” - -“Now let us thoroughly understand each other, and in no way act without -a previous constitution and agreement,” said Laura. “You are about -to return to the English metropolis, and it may happen that you will -encounter Charles Hatfield. It is my wish that you avoid him--that you -do not appear even to notice him; and, for the same reasons which urge -me to give you this recommendation, I must request that you attempt no -extortion with his father--that you will not seek to render available -or profitable the knowledge you possess of the private affairs of that -family. Were you to act contrary to my wishes in this respect, you -would only mar the projects which I have formed to ensure the eventual -gratification of my vengeance.” - -“I have listened to you with attention,” said the old woman, “because -I would not irritate you by interruption. The counsel you have given -me was, however, quite unnecessary. My sole object in visiting London -is connected with Torrens; and were I to behold Charles Hatfield at -a distance, I should avoid him rather than throw myself in his way. -His father I know not even by sight. Besides, according to the tacit -understanding which appeared to establish itself between you and me -just now, we are mutually to forbear from interfering in each other’s -special affairs; and on this basis, good feelings will permanently -exist between us. On my return to Paris, fourteen days hence, I shall -devote myself to the object which you have in view; and rest assured -that, ere long, some wealthy, amorous, and docile nobleman--English or -French, no matter which--shall be languishing at your feet.” - -“Yes--it is for you to find out the individual to be enchained; and -it will then be for me to enchain him,” cried Laura, her countenance -lighting up with the glow of anticipated triumph. - -The mother and daughter thus made their arrangements, and settled their -plans in an amicable fashion; and the former, after passing the night -at the handsome lodgings which Laura occupied, set out in the morning -on her journey back to London. - - * * * * * - -We must here pause, for a brief space, to explain the sentiments and -motives that respectively influenced these designing women during the -lengthy discourse above recorded. - -We have already stated, that even before Mrs. Mortimer found herself -in the presence of her daughter, her suspicions and her curiosity -were excited by two or three mysterious though trivial incidents that -occurred; and she had not been many minutes in Laura’s company, before -she acquired the certainty that the young woman intended to conceal -the fact of her marriage with Charles Hatfield. Mrs. Mortimer at -first fancied that this desire arose from shame on the part of Laura, -whose pride might naturally revolt from the idea of avowing that, in -her eagerness to secure the hand of a nobleman, she had only linked -herself indissolubly to a simple commoner, of illegitimate birth, and -entirely dependent on his father. But, as the conversation embraced -ampler details, and exhibited views more positive and minute, Mrs. -Mortimer perceived that Laura was not influenced by wounded pride and -shame only in concealing the fact of her marriage; but that, as she -contemplated _another_ matrimonial alliance, as soon as an opportunity -for an eligible match should present itself she was unwilling to allow -her mother to attain the knowledge of a secret that would place her so -completely in that mother’s power. - -And Mrs. Mortimer had accurately read the thoughts and motives that -were uppermost in Laura’s mind. For, imagining from the observations -made, and the questions put by her mother, that the fact of her -marriage with Charles Hatfield was indeed unknown to the old woman, -she resolved to cherish so important--so precious a secret. Well aware -of the despotic character and arbitrary disposition of her parent, -Laura chose to place herself as little as possible at the mercy of one -who sought to rule with a rod of iron, and who was unscrupulous and -resolute to a degree in adopting any means that might establish her -sway over those whom she aspired to controul. - -“No--no,” thought Laura within herself: “my secret is safe--I am well -assured of _that_;--and my mother shall not penetrate it! The lips -of Rosalie, who alone could reveal it to her now, are sealed by rich -bribes. For such a secret in my mother’s keeping would reduce me to -the condition of her slave! I should not dare to contract _another_ -marriage; because her exigences would be backed by a menace of -exposure, and a prosecution for bigamy: and by means of the terrorism -which she would thus exercise over me, I should become a mere puppet in -her hands--not daring to assert a will of my own!” - -On the other hand, Mrs. Mortimer’s thoughts ran thus:--“Laura believes -me to be ignorant of her marriage, and my dissimulation shall confirm -her in that belief. Yes--I will act so as to lull her into complete -security on this point. It would be of no use to me now to proclaim my -knowledge of the fact that the marriage _has_ taken place; because, -at present, she requires my services, and will be civil and courteous -to me of her own accord. But when once I shall have helped her to -a wealthy and titled husband, and when my aid shall no longer be -required, _then_ she will re-assert her sway and attempt to thrust -_me_ aside as a mere cypher! But she shall find herself mistaken; and -the secret that I thus treasure up must prove the talisman to give me -despotic controul over herself, her husband, her household,--aye, and -her purse! Yes--yes: she may marry now, without any opposition from me. -For, whereas in the former case her marriage would indeed have reduced -me to the condition of a miserable dependant, a new alliance will -invest me with the power of a despot. Ah! daughter--daughter, you have -at length over-reached yourself.” - -And such was indeed the case; for so well did Mrs. Mortimer play her -part of deep dissimulation, that Laura felt convinced her secret -was safe, and that the circumstance of her marriage was totally -unsuspected. And it was as much to confirm the young woman in this -belief, as for the purpose of slyly bantering her, that the mother -questioned her as to the point to which her connexion with Charles -Hatfield had reached, and astutely placed in juxta-position her -daughter’s prudence on the one hand, and voluptuousness of temperament -on the other. Thus Laura was completely duped, while secretly -triumphing in the belief that it was her parent who was deceived! - -We must, however, observe, that the two women, under present -circumstances, felt dependent on each other in many and important -respects; and this mutual necessity rendered them easy to come to terms -and settle their affairs upon an amicable basis. - -On the one hand, Mrs. Mortimer relied upon her daughter for pecuniary -supplies; and this very circumstance prompted her to undertake the -journey to London in the hope of finding Torrens, and extorting -from him the treasure of which, as she believed, he had plundered -Percival. The possession of a few thousands of pounds, added to her -knowledge of Laura’s secret, would place her in a condition of complete -independence; and that independence she would labour hard to achieve -for herself. But she might fail--and then she would again be compelled -to fall back on the resources of her daughter. Thus, for the present -at least, she _was_ in a state of dependence--and it was by no means -certain that her visit to London would change her condition in this -respect. - -On the other hand, Laura was dependent on her mother for aid in -carrying out her ambitious views. Ignorant of the French language -as she was, she could not hope to succeed by herself alone; and, in -intrigues which required so much delicacy of management, she could -not rely solely on a lady’s-maid. The assistance of her mother was -therefore necessary; for she reflected that the astute old woman who -had succeeded in inducing Charles Hatfield to accompany her to the -lodgings in Suffolk-street, could not fall to lead some wealthy and -amorous noble within the influence of her daughter’s syren-charms in -the Rue Monthabor. - -We have now explained the exact position in which these two designing -women were placed with regard to each other; and we must request -our readers to bear in mind all the observations which we have just -recorded, inasmuch as they afford a clue to the motives of many -transactions to be hereafter narrated. - -For the history of Laura is, as it were, only just commenced; and the -most startling, exciting, and surprising incidents of her career have -yet to be told. - -She was a woman of whom it may be well said, “We ne’er shall look upon -her like again!” - -But the delineation of such a character as this Perdita--or Laura, -as we are henceforth to call her--has the advantage of throwing into -glorious contrast the virtues, amenities, and endearing qualities -of woman generally,--inasmuch as she is a grand and almost unique -exception, proving the rule which asserts the excellent qualities of -her sex. - - - - -CHAPTER CLVI. - -THE HALF-BROTHERS. - - -It was about five o’clock in the evening of the second day after the -incidents just related, that the Earl of Ellingham received a note, -the address of which was written in a feigned hand, and with the word -“private” marked in the corner. - -The messenger, who left it at the mansion in Pall-mall, had departed -immediately his errand was discharged, and without waiting for any -reply. - -Lord Ellingham happened to be alone in the library when the missive was -placed in his hands, and on opening it he recognised the writing of his -half-brother; for the address only was disguised--a precaution adopted -in case the letter should be observed by the ladies before it reached -the hands of the earl. - -The contents convoyed a brief intimation that Mr. Hatfield had returned -to London with his son, and that they had put up temporarily at the -Trafalgar Hotel, Spring-gardens, where the presence of the nobleman was -anxiously expected. - -Thither the earl accordingly repaired, and a waiter conducted him to -an apartment, in which he was received by his half-brother alone--the -father having deemed it prudent that the son should not be present -while the necessary explanations were being given. - -The meeting between the nobleman and Mr. Hatfield was cordial, and even -affectionate: how different from that of the mother and daughter in -Paris, as described in the preceding chapter! - -“You have recovered your son, Thomas,” said the earl; “and under any -circumstances I congratulate you. The fact that he has returned to -London with you convinces me that the paternal authority is once more -recognised.” - -“Yes--he is here--in an adjacent room, Arthur,” replied Mr. Hatfield. -“I thought it prudent, for many reasons, to send for you privately, -and consult you before I ventured to take him back to his mother’s -presence. Indeed I know not, after all that has occurred, whether you -will permit him to cross your threshold again--whether you can ever -forgive him.” - -“He is your son, Thomas, and that is sufficient,” interrupted the -generous, noble-hearted earl. “Whatever he may have done, I promise -to pardon him: however gravely he may have erred, I will yield him my -forgiveness. Nay, more--I will undertake to promise the same for my -wife, who you know is not a woman that harbours rancour.” - -“The amiable, the excellent Esther! Oh! no, no--she would not refuse -pardon or sympathy to a living soul!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield. “And you, -my generous brother--my never-failing friend--how can I sufficiently -thank you for these assurances which you give me, and which so -materially tend to lighten the sorrow that weighs upon my heart! I have -suffered and undergone much during the few days of my absence from -London.” - -“But you have recovered your son,” hastily interrupted the -earl, pressing his half-brother’s hand with a fervour that was -indeed consolatory; “and I am sure that, although his errors may -have been great, he has not committed any thing dishonourable. -He may have been self-willed--rebellious against the paternal -authority--ungrateful--unmindful of those who wish him well; he may -have yielded himself up to the wiles of an infamous woman----” - -“All that has he assuredly done, Arthur,” said Mr. Hatfield, in a -melancholy tone; “and more still! For, as you yourself suspected on -that day when we made so many distressing discoveries in the library, -he found out who I _was_--who I _am_,--he believed himself to be -my legitimate son--he even raised money by the name of _Viscount -Marston_--he dared to contemplate measures to force me to assume -_your_ title, and claim _your_ estates; and he would have sacrificed -you--me--his mother--the countess--aye, and the amiable, excellent -Frances--he would have sacrificed us all,” added Mr. Hatfield, -profoundly excited, “to his inordinate ambition! Now, my dear Arthur,” -he asked, in a milder and more measured tone--“_now_, can you forgive -my son all this?” - -“Yes--and more--ten thousand times more!” ejaculated the earl, -emphatically. “Had he possessed the right to accomplish all he -devised--aye, had he carried out his designs to the very end--even -then, Thomas, would I have forgiven him for your sake.” - -“It is a god--an angel who speaks thus; and not a mere human being!” -exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, embracing his half-brother with an enthusiasm -and a fervour amounting almost to a worship. “Oh! why are not all men -like you?--the world would then know not animosity, nor rancour, nor -strife; and earth would be heaven!” - -“Thomas, Thomas,” cried the earl, reproachfully, “attach not too much -importance to a feeling on my part which you yourself would show under -similar circumstances! But let us speak of your son. He has erred, -and you have forgiven him--you, his father, who are the most deeply -wounded by his temporary ingratitude, have pardoned him and taken him -again to your heart. Shall not I, then, who look upon him in the light -of a nephew--shall not I, an uncle, forgive and forget what a father -can pardon and obliterate from his memory? Yes--and I will even find -extenuating circumstances in his favour: I will search out and conjure -up excuses for him! Endowed with an enthusiastic disposition--an ardent -longing to render himself conspicuous in the world--a fervid craving to -earn distinction and acquire a proud name,--he paused not to reflect -whether it were well to shine with an adventitious lustre, or to win -for himself and by himself the glory that should encircle his brow. The -splendid career of the Prince of Montoni dazzled--nay, almost blinded -him; and while he contemplated the eminence on which that illustrious -personage stands, he forgot that his Royal Highness obtained not rank -and power by hereditary right, but by his great deeds, his steady -perseverance in the course of rectitude, and his ennobling virtues. -While filled with lofty aspirations, your son suddenly made the -discovery of certain family secrets which appeared to place a title -within his reach. Ah! pardon him if he stretched out his hand to grasp -the visionary coronet,--pardon him, I say--and wonder not if in the -eagerness of his desire to clutch the dreamy bauble, he thrust parents, -relatives, and friends rudely aside.” - -“The generosity which prompts you to extenuate his grievous faults -shall not be cooled nor marred by any opposite opinion on my part,” -said Mr. Hatfield. “And, my God! is he not my son?--and have I not -already--yes, already--while we were still in Paris--promised to -forgive him every thing. But when I think of all the misery his insane -ambition would have brought upon you and yours----” - -“Oh! the loss of title and wealth would not interfere with my -happiness, Thomas,” interrupted the earl, smiling. - -“And that loss you cannot now sustain--no--never, never!” exclaimed Mr. -Hatfield, impetuously; “and I thank God that I am enabled to give you -this assurance! For the papers--the fatal papers--the family documents, -are all burnt--burnt with my own hand, and in the presence of that -young man who dared to take them from the secret recess where you had -deposited them.” - -“Ere now you called me generous, Thomas,” said the earl,--“and for the -performance of a common Christian duty--I mean, the forgiveness of -one who has offended and who is penitent. But you, my brother--what -generosity have you not shown towards me,--yes--and for years--long -years;--and now, to crown it all, you have destroyed those evidences -which would make you great at any moment. Oh! as the world’s ambition -goes, and as human hearts are constituted, _your_ generosity outvalues -_mine_ as immeasurably as the boundless Pacific exceeds the stagnant -puddle in the street!” - -And, as the earl spoke these words with an enthusiasm and a sincerity -that came from the inmost recesses of his heart, he dashed away a tear. - -Then, as if suddenly animated by the same sentiment--a sentiment of -mutual regard, devotion, and admiration,--the half-brothers grasped -each other’s hands; and the pressure was long and fervid--a profound -silence reigning between them the while,--for, men of years and worldly -experience though they were, their souls’ emotions were deeply stirred -and their finest feelings were aroused. - -“I have not yet told you all--perhaps scarcely even the worst, relative -to my unfortunate son,” said Mr. Hatfield, after a long pause. -“That vile woman of whom Villiers spoke--that Perdita Slingsby--or -Torrens--or Fitzhardinge--whichever her name may be----” - -“Ah! I understand you already,” interrupted the earl, in a tone of deep -commiseration: “the artful creature has inveigled your son into a hasty -marriage. Is it not so?” - -“Alas! it is too true, Arthur,” said Mr. Hatfield; and he then -proceeded to narrate to his brother all that had occurred during his -absence from London,--the accident near Greenwich--the adventure -with the officers at Dover--the interview with his son in Paris--the -negotiations with Perdita--and the terms which he had finally settled -with that designing woman. - -“Oh! that you had been one day earlier,” exclaimed Lord Ellingham; “and -this odious marriage would not have occurred. It is lamentable indeed, -Thomas--and the more so, in consequence of the hopes that I had founded -on the attachment which until lately existed between Charles and my -daughter.” - -“Ah! it is that--it is _that_ which cuts me to the very soul!” cried -Mr. Hatfield, with exceeding bitterness of tone and manner. - -“And yet there is hope--there is hope for us yet!” exclaimed the earl, -who, after pacing the room in deep thought for a few minutes, turned -suddenly towards his half-brother. - -“Hope do you say?” demanded the latter, his countenance brightening -up--though he could not as yet conjecture, much less perceive the -source whence the gleam of hope could possibly emanate. - -“Yes--hope,” repeated the earl emphatically, but sinking his voice -almost to a whisper, as if he were afraid that the very walls should -hear the words he was uttering. “Did not that woman tell you she should -contract _another marriage_----” - -“She assuredly intimated as much,” answered Mr. Hatfield; “and by her -words and manner I have no doubt that the intention was uppermost in -her mind.” - -“And from the knowledge which we now possess of her character,” added -the earl, “we may rest satisfied that she will not refuse the first -good offer that presents itself. Well, then--on the day that she -contracts another marriage, Charles may consider himself absolved from -the alliance which he so unhappily formed.” - -“Ah! I comprehend you, my dear Arthur!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, his -heart already feeling lighter. “But the legal tie will still exist,” -he added an instant afterwards, his voice again becoming solemn and -mournful. - -“The law is an unnatural--a vile--and a miserable one, which would -for ever exclude either that woman or your son from the portals of -the matrimonial temple!” said the earl, speaking with impassioned -emphasis, though still in a subdued tone, “Charles has discarded -her--and she has consented never more to molest him. Already, then, -are they severed in a moral point of view. But should that woman -contract another marriage--take unto herself another husband--and -thereby prove that her severance from the young man whom she ensnared -and inveigled, is complete,--should she adopt the initiative in that -respect, it would be a despicable fastidiousness and a contemptible -affectation on the part of any one to say to Charles Hatfield, ‘_You -must never know matrimonial happiness: but you must remain in your -present false position, a husband without a wife, for the remainder of -your days!_’ It were inhuman--base--and unnatural thus to address your -son, when once the woman herself shall have ratified by her actions -that compact which her words and her signature have already sanctioned. -Were a father to consult me under such circumstances, and ask my advice -whether he should bestow his daughter on a young man situated as your -son will then be,--my counsel would be entirely in the affirmative. -Can you therefore suppose for a moment that I shall shrink from acting -in accordance with the advice I should assuredly give to another man -who is likewise a father? No--no! If then, in the course of time, this -Perdita shall contract a new marriage,--and if your son manifest, as I -hope and believe he will do, contrition for the past--if his conduct be -such as to afford sure guarantees for the future--and if his attachment -for Frances should revive, as I am certain that hers, poor girl! will -continue unimpaired,--under all these circumstances, Thomas, I should -not consider myself justified in stamping the unhappiness of that pair -by refusing my consent to their union.” - -“Most solemnly do I assure you, Arthur,” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, “that, -as an impartial person, and supposing I were disinterested in the -matter, I should view it precisely in the same light: but I should not -have dared to express those sentiments before you, had you not been the -first to give utterance to them.” - -“It is, after all, the mere common-sense aspect of the question,” said -the earl. “A young man is inveigled into a marriage with a woman whom -he looks upon as an angel of purity; and in a few hours he discovers -her to be a demon of pollution. They separate upon positive and written -conditions. The tribunals would take cognizance of the affair, and -grant a legal divorce were they appealed to: but a private arrangement -is deemed preferable to a public scandal. Well, the woman marries -again--and every remaining shadow of claim which she might still have -had upon the individual whom she had entrapped and deluded, ceases at -once. The complete snapping of the bond--the total severance of the -tie, is her own doing. It is true that the law may proclaim the first -marriage to be the only legal one: but morality revolts against such -an unnatural averment. These are my solemn convictions;--and, were I to -ponder upon them for a hundred years, I should not waver one tittle in -my belief.” - -“There is more injustice committed by a false morality--more -unhappiness inflicted by a ridiculous fastidiousness, than the world -generally would believe,” observed Mr. Hatfield. - -“Yes--and there is another consideration which weighs with me, -Thomas!” exclaimed the earl, turning once more, and now with a smiling -countenance, towards his half-brother. “You have shewn so much -generosity towards me--you have annihilated documents which ninety-nine -men out of a hundred would have prized and availed themselves of--and -you have exhibited so much noble feeling in all your actions respecting -myself and our family honour, that I consider myself bound to effect -the union of my daughter and your son, if it be practicable. This, -then, I propose--that the unfortunate marriage of Charles shall be kept -a profound secret, and that he shall leave England for a short time, -so that active employment may completely and radically wean his mind -from any lingering attachment that he may entertain for the polluted -Perdita. With regard to this latter suggestion I have a project which -I will presently explain to you. Respecting the maintenance of the -secret of his unhappy marriage, I should recommend its propriety even -were there no ulterior considerations of the nature already stated. -For of what avail can it be to distress my wife or yours--much less my -daughter--by a revelation of the sad circumstance? In any case, Frances -would not be permitted to learn that secret; and I should be loth -indeed to afflict Lady Ellingham by the narration of such a history.” - -“And you may be wall assured, Arthur,” observed Mr. Hatfield, “that it -would prove no pleasant task for me to inform Lady Georgiana that her -son, by his mad ambition and his fatal misconceptions, had compelled -me to make known to him the fact of his illegitimacy. Neither should -I wish to distress her by unfolding to her the secret of this most -miserable marriage.” - -“It is fortunate that we were so guarded with our wives on that morning -when we made such alarming discoveries in the library,” observed Lord -Ellingham: “it is a subject for self-congratulation that we merely -intimated the fact of Charles’s departure that day with an abandoned -woman----” - -“Yes--and it was to your prudent representations that I yielded, when I -was about to commit the folly of imparting every thing to my wife,--the -loss of the papers--the certainty that Charles had not only taken -them, but had likewise discovered every thing relating to my own past -life----” - -“It was scarcely my advice, Thomas, which prevented you from making all -those revelations to Georgiana,” said the earl: “but it was when----” - -“Yes--I remember: it was when we resolved to depart in search of the -fugitive, that I found my wife was so overcome by the first word I -uttered--the word which told her he was gone--that I could not feel it -in my heart to afflict her by farther revelations.” - -“You scarcely require to be informed that Villiers and myself each -pursued the road that we respectively took, until we acquired the -certainty that no travellers of the description given had passed that -way; but it was late at night when I returned to London, and Villiers -was an hour or two later still. While we are, however, conversing in -this desultory manner,” said the earl, “we forget that Charles is -waiting for us in another room.” - -“And you forget, my dear Arthur,” observed Mr. Hatfield, “that you have -a project respecting him, but which you have not as yet revealed to me.” - -“True!” ejaculated Lord Ellingham; “and the explanation can be speedily -given. Yesterday afternoon I received a hastily written note from -the Prince of Montoni, stating the melancholy intelligence that his -illustrious father-in-law, Alberto I., expired after a short illness -twelve days ago. The Prince received the news yesterday morning by -special courier----” - -“And he is now Grand Duke of Castelcicala?” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield. - -“Yes--he is a sovereign prince,” returned the nobleman,--“and one who -will not only make his people happy, but who, I venture to predict, -will be the means of regenerating Italy. His Sovereign Highness departs -to-morrow for Castelcicala; and, although it be scarcely consistent -with propriety to accost him with a request under such circumstances, -yet I will do so--trusting that the explanations which I shall give, -may excuse the apparent importunity at the present moment.” - -“And that request?” said Mr. Hatfield, interrogatively. - -“Is that the Grand Duke--for by this proud title must we now denominate -him--will permit Charles to accompany him in the capacity of one of his -_aides-de-camp_. Your son can speak the Italian language as fluently -as his own; and his long residence in Castelcicala will have fitted -him for the situation I propose to procure for him. Moreover, that -aspiring nature--that ardent ambition which has already manifested -itself, will be gratified and will find congenial associations and -emulative stimulants In the career thus opened to him. If his ambition, -in its first strugglings, have unfortunately led him into error, it -was on account of the misconceptions to which he yielded, and the -baleful influence which a designing woman exercised over him: but, with -such a glorious example before him as the illustrious personage into -whose service I propose that he shall enter, and keeping in view such -legitimate aims as that service naturally suggests, I am much deceived -indeed if your son do not prove himself a good, an estimable, and, -perhaps, a great man.” - -“Your advice is as excellent as your purpose is generous and kind,” -exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, overjoyed at the prospects thus held out. - -“We may now release Charles,” said the earl, “from the suspense which -he is doubtless enduring.” - -Mr. Hatfield left the room, and shortly afterwards returned, -accompanied by the young man, whose face was pale and whose looks were -downcast, as he advanced towards the earl. - -“My dear Charles,” said the good nobleman, embracing him,--“not a word -relative to the past! All is forgiven--all forgotten, as far as the -memory _can_ forget.” - -Charles shed tears, while his heart was agitated with many conflicting -emotions,--gratitude for the assurance thus given to him--joy that -he was so completely pardoned--bitter regret that he should have -ever contemplated aught prejudicial to the interests of the generous -earl--vexation on account of the facility with which he had been led -astray--and shame at the deplorable errors he had committed. - -But when he heard the kind, affectionate, and re-assuring language -addressed to him alike by his father and Lord Ellingham,--when he -learnt that the main particulars of his late proceedings were to be -kept a solemn secret in respect to his mother, the countess, and Lady -Frances,--and when he was made acquainted with the project which the -earl had suggested relative to placing him about the person of the idol -of his heroic worship--the new Grand Duke of Castelcicala,--a genial -tide of consolation was poured into his soul; and he felt that the -future might yet teem with bright hopes for him! - -But not a word was breathed either by Mr. Hatfield or Lord Ellingham -respecting _that other prospect_ which had evoked so much enlightened -reasoning and such liberal sentiments from the lips of the earl: we -mean the probability of a marriage eventually taking place between the -young man and the beautiful Lady Frances Ellingham. - -With the proposal that he should enter the service of the Grand Duke, -Charles was delighted; and the earl promised to visit his Sovereign -Highness early in the morning, at Markham Place, to proffer the request -which he had to make as the necessary preliminary. - -The nobleman, Mr. Hatfield, and Charles now repaired to the mansion -in Pall Mall, where the presence of the two latter, especially of the -last-mentioned, caused feelings of joy which we must leave the reader -to imagine. - - - - -CHAPTER CLVII. - -POLITICAL OBSERVATIONS.--THE DEPARTURE OF CHARLES HATFIELD. - - -Yes--it was true that the Prince of Montoni had become Grand Duke -of Castelcicala; and those who have read the First Series of “THE -MYSTERIES OF LONDON,” have now traced the career of Richard Markham -from the period of his obscure boyhood until the time when his brow is -circled by a sovereign crown! - -And when we reflect that it was a REVOLUTION which evoked his brilliant -qualities as a warrior and a statesman,--when we call to mind the fact -that it was the cry of “LIBERTY” which became the watch-word of his -achievements and the herald of his triumphs,--we cannot do otherwise, -on reaching this point in our narrative, than avail ourselves of so -fitting an opportunity to notice the grand and glorious struggle that -has so lately taken place in the capital of France. - -Oh! the French are a fine people, and are destined to teach the world -some signal lessons in the school of POLITICAL FREEDOM! - -PEOPLE OF ENGLAND! accord your sympathies--your best and most generous -sympathies--to that gallant Parisian population which has so recently -dethroned a miscreant Monarch, and hurled an execrable Ministry from -the seat of power! - -Let the English Sons of Toil--oppressed, ground down by taxation, -half-starved, and deprived of their electoral rights as they are,--let -the Industrious Classes of the British Islands, trampled upon and made -tools of by the wealthy _few_ as we know them to be,--let _them_ do -honour, at least by words to the working men of France who have dared -to expel a demon-hearted tyrant and his bravo-hirelings. - -The States of Italy--Bavaria--and France have all, within the last few -weeks, manifested their scorn and contempt for the doctrine of “the -divine right of kings;”--the PEOPLE in those realms have exercised the -power which they possess:--the cause has been righteous--the despots -have yielded--and _one_ has been overthrown altogether. - -For the cause is always righteous when the People seek to wrest from -their rulers that freedom which has been basely usurped, and which the -tyrannical oligarchy refuses to surrender by fair means to the millions. - -It is a monstrous absurdity and a hideous mockery to prate of treason, -and sedition, and rebellion, when a people rises up in its might and -its power to demand the privileges which are naturally its own. - -The _few_ cannot possibly possess an inherent or hereditary right to -enslave the _many_: nor is the present generation to be bound by the -enactments of the preceding one. If that preceding one chose to have -a Monarchy, the present one is justified in declaring its will that -a Republic shall exist;--and so long as the great majority of the -inhabitants of a country are of accord in this respect, they have a -right to upset the existing government at any moment and establish -another. Nay, more; we will assert that the people need not even be -wise or prudent in order to legitimatise their actions:--the great -majority may act as they think fit, although they should be unwise or -imprudent in respect to the institutions they choose to build up! - -We are averse to the exercise of physical force;--but France has shown -that when moral agitation fails, violence _must_ be used;--and if -freedom can be gained by the loss of a few drops of blood--why, then -those drops should be shed cheerfully. - -Suppose that in any country the great majority of the people sign a -document addressed to the sovereign in these terms:--“We are very much -obliged to you for having reigned over us hitherto; but we do not -require your services farther. It pleases us to establish another form -of government and raise up another ruler; and therefore we request you -to descend from the throne and surrender up the power delegated to -you.” Were the sovereign to refuse compliance with this demand, then -force should be used; and all the antiquated farces of “hereditary -rights,” and “treason,” and “sedition,” and such-like nonsense, would -of course be disregarded by an insurgent people. - -On the other hand, so long as a nation remains tranquil, and addresses -to the sovereign no demand of the kind supposed above, that sovereign -may continue to occupy the throne, as the people’s executive -magistrate; for it is the fault of the millions themselves if they be -foolish enough to tolerate either a king or a queen. - -Republicanism is the “order of the day;” and there is not a throne -in Europe that is worth twenty years’ purchase,--no--not even that -of the Austrian Kaiser or the Muscovite Czar;--and from the banks -of the Thames to the confines of Asia--from the cheerless regions -of the North to the sunny shores of the tideless Mediterranean, the -prevailing sentiment is adverse to the antiquated, useless, oppressive -institutions of Monarchy. - -HONOUR TO THE GREAT AND GLORIOUS FRENCH NATION! And let the Royalty -which still exists in England beware how it caress, and pet, and -openly sympathise with the ex-Royalty which has taken refuge on this -soil. For the Queen of England to adopt such a course, were to offer -a gross and flagrant insult to the people of France, and inevitably -provoke a war. Besides--is not Louis-Philippe a miscreant deserving -universal execration? Did he not calmly and deliberately calculate -upon butchering the brave Parisian people, in order to consolidate -the power of his despot-throne? Are not his hands imbrued with blood? -No sympathy, then--no pity for this royal Greenacre--this horrible -assassin! - -And were he to be received at the palace of our Queen, the insult would -not only be monstrous towards the French people, who have expelled him, -but equally great towards the English people, who abhor tyrants, and -who are generous, humane, and merciful. - -WORKING MEN OF ENGLAND! rejoice and be glad--for amidst the changes -which have so recently taken place in France, there is one “sign of -the times” that is cheering and full of prophetic significancy for -_you_! I allude to the grand--the glorious fact, that in the list of -the Provisional Government which the Revolution raised up, these words -appeared--“ALBERT, Working Man.” - -Yes: a Working Man was included in that fine category of Republican -names; and he has been instrumental in giving to the whole political -world that impulse which must inevitably conduct _even the present -generation_ to the most glorious destinies. - -Honour to Albert, the Working Man! - -There is another point on which I must touch, ere I resume the thread -of my narrative. - -The Prime Minister of England has declared “that he has no intention -whatever to interfere with the form of government which the French -nation may choose for themselves.” He therefore admits the right of the -nation to establish any form of government which it chooses;--and this -concession is an important one, when coming from the principal adviser -of the Queen, and from a man who is, after all, nothing more nor less -than the chief of an aristocratic clique. - -Well, then--it being admitted by the Prime Minister that a nation -has a right to choose its own form of government, the sooner the -people of England begin to think of establishing new institutions for -themselves, the better. For there is no use in disguising the fact--and -no possibility of exaggerating it,--that England is in a truly awful -condition. Already are we enduring a war-tax; and it was only through -fear of seeing the glorious example of the Parisians immediately -followed by the inhabitants of London, that the Ministers abandoned -their iniquitous and execrable scheme of doubling that shameful -impost. But the financial ignorance and the wanton extravagance of the -Whigs have plunged the country into serious pecuniary embarrassments, -from which nothing but the sweeping reform of a purely democratic -Ministry can relieve it. With a tremendous national debt,--with no -possibility of levying another tax,--with Ireland to care for and -almost support,--with a vast amount of absolute penury and positive -destitution in the country,--with an aristocracy clinging to old -abuses, and with the land in the possession of a contemptibly small -oligarchy,--with the industrious classes starving on pitiable -wages,--with a pension-list which is a curse and a shame,--with a -cumbrous and costly Monarchy,--with a Church grasping at all it -can possibly lay hands on,--with a Bench of Bishops in inveterate -and banded hostility to all enlightening opinions and popular -interests,--and with a franchise so limited that nine-tenths of the -people are altogether unrepresented,--with all these, and a thousand -other evils which might be readily enumerated, we repeat our assertion -that England is in an awful state; and we must add that great, -important, and radical changes must be speedily effected.[13] - -Oh! how well and how truly has a great French writer declared that “men -have only to will it, in order to be free!” France has set England and -the world a great and glorious example in this respect. - -These English newspapers which are interested in pandering to the -prejudices and the selfishness of a bloated aristocracy and an -oppressive oligarchy, of landowners, represent revolutions as scenes -of spoliation, social ruin, and other demoralisation. But the incidents -of the Revolution which gave Louis Philippe a throne in 1830, and those -of the grand struggle which has just hurled him from his despot-seat, -give the lie--the bold, unequivocal lie--to such statements.[14] - -[Illustration] - -The time has come when all true Reformers must band together for the -public weal. Let there be union,--union of all sects and parties who -are in favour of _progress_, no matter what their denomination may -be,--whether Republicans, Radicals, Chartists, or Democrats. “Union -Is strength,” says the proverb; and the truth thereof maybe fully -justified and borne out in the present age, and in the grand work of -moral agitation for the People’s Rights.[15] - - * * * * * - -We now proceed with the thread of our narrative; but it is not -necessary to give at any length the particulars of the interview which -took place between Lord Ellingham and Richard Markham, now Grand Duke -of Castelcicala. Suffice it to say, that his Sovereign Highness, though -deeply afflicted by the news of his father-in-law’s demise, welcomed -the English nobleman with the utmost cordiality, and immediately -consented to receive Charles Hatfield as one of his _aides-de-camp_. -The Earl hastened back to Pall-mall, and, sending for the young man to -his private apartment, reasoned with him in an impressive way upon the -necessity of retrieving the past by the conduct which he should pursue -in future. Charles listened with profound attention to all that the -excellent peer said upon this occasion, and promised that his behaviour -should henceforth render him worthy of all the signal favours bestowed -upon him. - -The preparations for his departure were in the meantime made with all -possible despatch; and in the course of a few hours Charles Hatfield -took leave of his family, and hastened to Markham Place, to join the -suite of the new Sovereign of Castelcicala. - - - - -CHAPTER CLVIII. - -Mrs. Mortimer in London. - - -Mrs. Mortimer,--as we must now call her whom we have already known as -Mrs. Slingsby, Mrs. Torrens, and Mrs. Fitzhardinge,--arrived in London -two days after the scene which took place between her daughter and -herself in the Rue Monthabor at Paris. - -The wily woman was intent upon accomplishing the aim that had brought -her back to the English metropolis; but as the reader may well imagine, -she had not the least trace of her husband--nor the slightest clue to -his whereabout. Indeed, it was only a conjecture with her that he -was in London at all;--but she had worked this suspicion up into a -certainty in her own mind; and the object she hoped to gain was quite -important enough to lead her to resolve upon leaving no stone unturned -in order to arrive at a successful issue. - -On setting foot in the metropolis, she took up her abode at a small -coffee-house in an obscure street in the Borough of Southwark; and -having assumed a somewhat mean attire, she repaired, in the dusk of the -evening after her arrival, to the vicinity of the dwelling which in -former times bore the name of Torrens Cottage. - -This house, as the reader will recollect, was situate between Streatham -and Norwood; and the old woman, who knew the world well, and read the -human heart profoundly, calculated that Torrens, impelled by that -inscrutable and mysterious curiosity which prompts persons under -such circumstances, was likely, if indeed in London, to visit the -neighbourhood where he had once dwelt, and which had proved for him the -scene of such dire misfortune. - -Mrs. Mortimer knew that Torrens had passed many happy days at that -cottage, and had there cherished the grandest hopes of acquiring a -great fortune by means of building-speculations: she was also aware -that he had at the same place bargained for the sale of his daughter’s -virtue--beheld the ravisher lying murdered upon the sofa--and been -arrested on suspicion of the heinous crime. The place, then, was -replete with the most varied and conflicting reminiscences for the old -man; and Mrs. Mortimer said to herself, “The morbid feelings which must -exist in such a heart as his, will probably induce him to visit the -neighbourhood of the house that once was his home.” - -Such was her calculation; and, acting upon this impression, she sped on -foot towards the dwelling where she had once dwelt a few brief hours as -the wife of the man whom she was searching after. - -It was nine o’clock in the evening when she turned into the lane -where twenty years before Tom Rain had robbed Frank Curtis of the two -thousand pounds. - -In a few minutes Mrs. Mortimer came in sight of the cottage, the -walls of which were glistening white amidst the summer evening -semi-obscurity; and her heart beat quickly as she thought of the -long--long time that had elapsed since she last saw that spot where -_she_ also had been arrested on a capital charge! - -What changes--what vicissitudes had marked her existence since that -epoch! - -She had been in Newgate, and had there given birth to a daughter, who -had accompanied her into exile:--the daughter had grown up--had become -as profligate, though not altogether as criminal as her mother--and had -at length defied the authority of that parent who thus surpassed her in -the extent of her iniquity! - -Yes--many and striking had been the events that had characterised -the old woman’s career since last she saw those white, glistening -walls:--but there was the cottage apparently unchanged in outward -appearance,--although it was more completely hemmed in by trees than -when she quitted it upwards of nineteen years back. - -For the large trees which were there in her time, had grown larger, and -the saplings had expanded into trees also;--and a high, thick, verdant -hedge surrounded the garden. - -“Ah!” thought the old woman to herself, as she sped down the lane, “I -could almost wish that the cottage was mine, and that I might retire -with a competency to this sweet seclusion, no more to commingle in the -strife and turmoil of the great--the busy--the jarring world. But this -may not be! My life is destined to be stormy until the end. I feel that -it is--and I must yield to the destiny that urges me on!” - -Melancholy sentiments had risen up in her soul as she gave way to these -thoughts; but their current was suddenly cut short--or rather diverted -into another channel, when, emerging from the lane, she found herself -in front of the cottage. - -A light was visible through the shutters of the parlour--that very -parlour where Sir Henry Courtenay was murdered, and whither she herself -was borne in a fainting fit, after having been arrested in the hall on -a charge of forgery. - -A cold shudder crept over the old wretch, hardened and heartless as she -was: for she remembered all the acuteness--all the intensity of the -anguish she had experienced, when she had awakened to consciousness on -that dread occasion, and found herself in the custody of the servitors -of justice. - -Exercising, however, a powerful control over her feelings, she stepped -up to the front-door, and knocked boldly,--not in a sneaking, timid, -uncertain manner, but with firmness and decision. - -The summons was almost immediately answered by a pretty-looking, -neatly-dressed, and very respectable servant-maid of about eighteen or -nineteen; and Mrs. Mortimer’s eyes now commanded a view of the hall -where the constables had made her their prisoner,--that fatal incident -which became as it were an ominous and most conspicuous finger-post in -the road of her chequered existence! - -“Can I be permitted, without causing inconvenience, to speak a few -words to your master or mistress?” inquired Mrs. Mortimer, subduing -the feelings aroused by the reminiscences of the past, and addressing -herself to the business of the present. - -“Surely you must have made some mistake,” said the servant-girl, -speaking, however, in a mild and respectful tone. “No gentleman resides -here.” - -“Then allow me to see your mistress, young woman,” persisted Mrs. -Mortimer, slipping two half-crowns into the maid’s hand. - -“I will carry your message to my mistress,” said the domestic coldly, -and at the same time indignantly repulsing the proffered bribe. “Walk -in, if you please.” - -Mrs. Mortimer entered the hall; and as the light of the lamp suspended -to the ceiling now fell fully upon her, the servant-maid saw that she -was somewhat meanly dressed, and that her countenance was none of the -most pleasant to look upon. The impression thus made upon the domestic -was not particularly favourable towards the old woman; but the girl was -artless and unsuspicious naturally, and therefore strove to smother -a feeling which she fancied to be uncharitable towards a complete -stranger. She was therefore about to enter the parlour to deliver the -message of the visitor, when the door of that room suddenly opened, and -a beautiful young creature, of about nineteen, made her appearance. - -We must pause for a for minutes to describe the being that burst, like -a seraphic vision, upon the amazed and dazzled sight of Mrs. Mortimer. - -Picture to yourself, reader, a tall, sylph-like figure of exquisite -symmetry, reminding the observer of the Grecian models of classic -female beauty,--with the deeply-hollowed back--the swelling chest -and bosom, well matured but not voluptuously large--and the high, -swan-like neck on which the oval head was gracefully fixed,--then -fancy a countenance of the most agreeable expression and rare -loveliness, with eyes not very large, but of the deepest black and most -melting softness, and with brows finely arched and somewhat thickly -pencilled,--a forehead lofty and smooth, and over which the raven hair -was parted in two massive, shining bands,--a nose with the slightest -trace of the Roman curve, and with the nostrils pink as delicate -rose-leaves,--a small mouth, the least thing plump and pouting, and -revealing teeth small, even, and white as pearls,--and a complexion -of a clear, living white, with the carnation flush of health upon -either cheek;--picture to yourself all this assemblage of charms, -gentle reader, and you will then have a complete idea of the enchanting -creature of nineteen, who suddenly appeared on the threshold of the -parlour-door. - -We may, however, add, ere we resume the thread of our narrative, that -this beauteous being was attired in a white dress, with a high corsage, -and that she wore no other ornaments than a pair of ear-rings, and a -fancy ring on one of her taper fingers. - -Advancing towards Mrs. Mortimer, she said in a musical voice and a kind -tone, “I think I overheard you request a few minutes’ interview with -the mistress of this house----” - -“Such was indeed the favour I solicited,” observed the old woman, -hastily. “If my presence would not inconvenience you for a little -while,--and if you will accept my sincere apologies for the apparent -obtrusiveness of the request, as well as for the lateness of the hour -at which it is made----” - -“Oh! pray do not deem it necessary to excuse a proceeding which I am -sure you will explain to my satisfaction,” interrupted the young lady, -with a sincerity which emanated from the artlessness of a disposition -entirely unsophisticated. “Walk in, madam,” she added, in a kind and -by no means ceremonial tone, as she conducted Mrs. Mortimer into the -parlour, the door of which the servant-maid immediately closed behind -them. - -Mrs. Mortimer now found herself in the very room which was fraught with -so many exciting and varied reminiscences for her. The golden lustre of -the handsome lamp which stood upon the table, was shed upon the scene -of those crushing incidents that had suddenly made her a prisoner for a -forgery which she had committed, and her husband a prisoner on a charge -of murder of which he was innocent! - -The old woman sank into a chair, and gazed around her with -no affectation of emotion. The appointments of the room were -changed--materially changed, it was true: but her eyes, nevertheless, -recognised full well--oh! full well--the very spot where had stood the -sofa on which she had awakened to the consciousness of her desperate -condition,--the spot, too, where Torrens was standing when the officers -arrested him on suspicion of the murder of Sir Henry Courtenay! - -For a few minutes the old woman was powerfully affected by the -recollections thus vividly conjured up; but, at length calling all her -courage to her aid, she regained her self-possession--and then a rapid -survey made her acquainted with the elegant and tasteful style in which -the parlour was now fitted up. All the furniture seemed to be nearly -new. Upon the table in the middle were several drawings, in pencil -and in water-colours, lying in an open portfolio--a box of paints and -brushes--and several prettily bound volumes of the best modern English -poets. Where a sofa had been placed in the time when Mrs. Mortimer -last knew the cottage, a handsome upright pianoforte now stood; and in -the nearest corner was a magnificent harp. On the cheffoniers in the -window-recesses were porcelain vases filled with flowers; and to the -walls were suspended several excellent pictures, the subjects of which -were chiefly landscapes. Everything, in a word, denoted the chaste -elegance and delicate refinement of the taste that had presided in the -fitting up of that room. - -Mrs. Mortimer, having recovered her self-possession, turned towards -the young lady, who had been watching her with mingled interest and -surprise. - -“You will pardon me,” said the old woman, “if I were for a few moments -overcome by reminiscence of an affecting nature----” - -“Compose yourself, madam--pray, compose yourself,” interrupted the -beauteous girl, in a sweet tone and winning manner; for not only -was the most artless amiability natural to her, but she thought she -perceived in the language of her visitor something superior to what the -condition of her apparel and her personal appearance generally would -have otherwise led her to infer. - -“Never can I sufficiently thank you for the urbanity--the kindness, -with which you treat me, my dear young lady!” exclaimed the old woman. -“But am I not intruding upon your leisure--perhaps keeping you away -from some companion----” - -“Oh! no--I am all alone here,” said the young lady, with an ingenuous -frankness that excited a feeling of interest--almost of admiration, -even in the breast of such an one as Mrs. Mortimer. “When I say alone,” -continued the beauteous creature, “I do not of course allude to the -servants--because they cannot be called companions, you know; although -the old housekeeper is very kind and good-natured; and Jane--the maid -who gave you admission just now--is a sweet-tempered girl.” - -“And is it possible that you dwell here in complete seclusion!” -demanded the old woman, rendering her voice as mild and her manner as -conciliating as possible. - -“Oh! I am accustomed to this seclusion, as you style it, madam,” -exclaimed the young lady, gaily: “for years I have lived in this -manner, with my books--my music--my drawings;--and I am very happy,” -she added, in a tone which left not a doubt as to the sincerity of her -statement. “At the same time,” she continued, after a few moments’ -pause, and in a somewhat more serious voice, “I could wish that my dear -papa visited me a little oftener--and that circumstances, of which I am -however ignorant did not prevent----” - -“What! does not your father live with you, my dear young lady?” asked -Mrs. Mortimer, surveying her with the most unfeigned surprise. - -“Alas! he does not,” replied the artless girl, her looks and her -tone now becoming suddenly mournful: but, in the next moment, her -countenance brightened up, and she observed, “At the same time I am -wrong to give way to sorrow in that respect, since my dear father -assures me that the reasons are most important--most grave----” - -She checked herself: for it suddenly struck her that she was bestowing -her confidence upon one who was a total stranger to her, and that such -frankness might possibly be indiscreet. - -“And your mother, my dear lady?” said Mrs. Mortimer, interrogatively. - -“I never knew her,” answered the lovely creature, in a low and almost -sad tone. “But I have been all this time wearying you with remarks and -revelations concerning myself--forgetting that I should have first -suffered you to give the promised explanation relative to your visit. -You may address me as Miss Vernon--or Agnes Vernon, if you choose: for -that is my name. And now, tell me the object of your call.” - -Mrs. Mortimer gazed in astonishment upon the charming being who was -seated opposite to her. Never had the old woman beheld so fascinating -a specimen of infantine artlessness and unsophisticated candour. There -was nothing artificial--nothing unreal in Agnes Vernon: the innocence -of her soul--the purity of her mind--the chastity of her thoughts, -were apparent in every word she uttered and in every feature of her -bewitching face! - -Yes--the old woman gazed long and ardently upon the sweet countenance -of that young creature,--gazed as if in an adoration forced upon a -savage mind by the apparition of some radiant being from a heavenly -sphere! - -“Madam, I am waiting for you to reply to me,” said Agnes, looking down -and blushing deeply, beneath the steadfast gaze thus fixed upon her. - -“A thousand pardons, Miss Vernon,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, recovering -her self-possession. “I was lost in thought: many--many reflections, -of a varied and conflicting nature, pressed upon my mind,--for I must -inform you that I was once the occupant of this beautiful little -house----” - -“Indeed!” ejaculated the young lady, who now began to suspect--or, at -least, thought that she had obtained a glimpse of--the motive which had -brought her visitor thither. “You have come, then, to cast your eyes -upon a spot which is familiar to you?” - -“Precisely so, Miss Vernon,” said the old woman. “And now let me -announce myself to you as Mrs. Mortimer. I am the widow of a General in -the army, and have only just returned from India.” - -“Oh! then I can well understand, my dear madam,” cried Agnes, firmly -believing every word that was said to her,--“I can well understand your -anxiety and longing to visit the place where you doubtless once dwelt -with the husband you have lost.” - -“You have read my purpose accurately, Miss,” said the old woman, wiping -her eyes as if she were moved to tears by reminiscences of the past. - -“But this is most singular, indeed!” suddenly exclaimed the young lady. - -Mrs. Mortimer gazed upon her with astonishment; for the observation -that had just escaped Miss Vernon’s lips was as extraordinary as the -impulse which had prompted it was mysterious. - -“Yes,” continued the beautiful creature: “this is indeed most singular!” - -“Are you surprised at my boldness in thus obtruding myself upon your -presence?” asked Mrs. Mortimer, fixing her eyes in a searching manner -upon the charming countenance of the young lady: “or do you doubt the -existence of the sentiment which brought me hither?” - -“Oh! no--no, madam!” exclaimed Agnes, in a tone of the deepest -sincerity, while her features suddenly betrayed the grief which she -experienced at being suspected of what she would have regarded as a -cruel scepticism. “I am sure you could have no other motive for coming -hither than the one you alleged: but I said it was singular--because, -another person--a few days ago----” - -“Ah!” ejaculated Mrs. Mortimer, a sudden idea striking her: in a word, -she already felt confident that her visit would not prove abortive, and -that she had acted with sagacity in seeking the first trace of Torrens -at the very house which he had inhabited years ago. - -“You now appear to be surprised in your turn,” observed Agnes, struck -by the ejaculation which had burst from the old woman’s lips. - -“Yes, dear young lady,” said Mrs. Mortimer; “I was indeed -surprised--inasmuch as I gathered from your words that another person, -actuated by the same sentiment as that which brought me to this -spot----” - -“And do you know _that other person_, then?” inquired Agnes. - -“That is precisely what I have now to ascertain,” answered the -old woman. “The moment I understood the sense of your observation -respecting the visit of another individual to the cottage, I began to -wonder whether it were any friend of my earlier years--perhaps even a -relative----” - -“He was an old man, with grey hair and a care-worn countenance,” said -Agnes, perceiving that Mrs. Mortimer paused and seemed to be deeply -affected; “and he told me that he also had once dwelt in this house. -He sate down in this very parlour, and appeared to be overcome with -grief for a long time. I offered to leave the room, that he might be -alone with his mournful reflections: but he conjured me to stay. And -then he informed me that he had known griefs so profound--vicissitudes -so terrible--privations so great, that they had almost driven him mad; -and, when I proposed in as delicate a manner as possible to afford him -such relief as my means would permit, he assured me that he was poor no -longer, and that he had gold at his command. Then, in another moment, -he exclaimed, with an emphasis which almost frightened me--‘_But, oh! -that I were indeed the penniless, half-starving wretch I was some days -ago!_’” - -“Ah! he said _that_--did he?” muttered the old woman to herself. -“Remorse has already overtaken him--and he will the more easily yield -to my menaces and become my victim!” - -“I did not catch your observation, madam,” said Agnes. - -“I was only musing, my dear child,” hastily responded Mrs. Mortimer, -“upon the misfortunes of this strange world of ours. Doubtless some -dreadful affliction had touched the brain of that poor old man of whom -you have been speaking.” - -“Such was indeed my fear,” exclaimed Agnes; “and, much as I pitied him, -I confess that I was greatly relieved when he took his departure.” - -“Was his visit a long one, my dear young lady?” asked Mrs. Mortimer. - -“He remained here for upwards of an hour,” was the reply. - -“And was it in the evening that he called?” inquired the old woman. - -“Yes--between eight and nine o’clock; and he rose from his seat as -the time-piece struck ten,” responded Agnes. “I know not precisely -wherefore--but it is nevertheless true that his presence began to alarm -me, although I had done him no injury, and indeed had never in my life -seen him before. But there was such a wild expression in his eyes----” - -“Ah! doubtless the poor old man was overcome by many painful -recollections,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “I suppose he did not mention his -name to you, Miss Vernon?” - -“No--and I did not like to ask him,” was the frank and ingenuous reply. -“His mind was evidently much unsettled,--for it alternated between a -profound grief and a restless excitement--so that while he was here, I -was at one moment moved to sympathise with him, and at another forced -to regard him with vague apprehension. When he spoke of the fact that -he himself had once been the occupant of this dwelling, he glanced -hastily around the parlour, and murmured three or four times in a tone -scarcely audible, ‘_This is the very room--the very room!_’ I could not -divine what he meant, and of course dared not ask him,” added Agnes, -with that charming ingenuousness of manner which denoted the pure child -of nature, untainted by the artificial formalities of a vitiated state -of society. - -“How long have you resided here, Miss?” inquired the old woman, after -a brief pause, during which she reflected on all that the beauteous -girl had just told her,--at the same time chuckling inwardly at the -certainty of having ascertained two grand facts: namely, that Torrens -was possessed of plenty of gold, and that he was in London. - -“I have lived in this pretty house for nearly three years, madam,” -answered Agnes. “Before that period I----But now,” she added, checking -herself, “I am again troubling you with my own affairs, whereas you -have sufficient upon your mind to engross all your attention. Oh! -yes--you must have,” exclaimed the artless girl,--“having only just -returned to England after so long an absence in India! But you did not -tell me whether you recognised in the old gentleman of whom I have been -speaking, any relative or friend--any person, in fine, in whom you are -interested.” - -“Yes, my dear young lady,” responded Mrs. Mortimer; “methinks that -he cannot be altogether unknown to me;--and yet, my thoughts are so -bewildered at this moment--the reminiscences which have been awakened -in my mind by this visit to a spot where I myself once dwelt, and -where I have passed so many happy hours with my dear deceased husband, -General Mortimer----” - -“Oh! do not weep, madam--compose yourself, I beseech you!” exclaimed -Agnes, whose unsuspicious soul was touched by the grief which her -artful visitor simulated so aptly. - -“Dear young lady,” murmured Mrs. Mortimer, pressing Miss Vernon’s hand -to her lips, “you will perhaps allow me to visit you again?” - -“Oh! certainly,” was the reply, given with cheerful and unaffected -cordiality. “You are the widow of an officer of high rank--and -therefore I cannot be doing wrong by receiving you at my house. At the -same time,” added Agnes, after a moment’s reflection, “I do not imagine -that my father----” - -But the young lady’s remark was cut short in the middle by a loud -knocking at the front-door. Mrs. Mortimer started up, as she felt that -she was an intruder, and that her business there was of an equivocal -character not likely to stand the test of any inquiry that might be put -by a person less artless and unsophisticated than Miss Vernon herself: -but that young lady, having a pure conscience, and not dreaming that -she had even acted with imprudence in permitting a stranger to foist -herself upon her, said in a cheerful manner, “Oh! it is my father’s -knock--I know it well! You need not be uneasy.” - -At this moment the parlour-door opened, and the pretty maid-servant -appeared on the threshold to usher in a gentleman of whose personal -appearance we must give a brief description. - - - - -CHAPTER CLIX. - -MRS. MORTIMER’S ADVENTURES CONTINUED. - - -The individual alluded to was a man of middle height, of rather spare -form, and slightly bowed--so that although his years in reality had -scarcely numbered sixty, a casual beholder might have pronounced -him to be above seventy. A closer observation would, however, have -dispelled this first impression; for his features were handsome and -well-preserved, his teeth remarkably fine, and his hands entirely free -from those wrinkles which usually appear upon the fingers of persons -in the winter of their existence. His hair was of that iron grey which -showed that it still retained a faint shade of its former blackness; -and baldness had not even begun to rob him of any part of that natural -covering. He wore no whiskers; and his countenance was smooth, but -pale. In a word, his frame still preserved much of its pristine vigour; -though its spareness and the slightly curved back were calculated, as -above mentioned, to impress a casual observer with the idea that the -individual whom we are describing was older than in reality he was. - -We have said that his features were handsome; and we should now -state that their general expression was pleasing, conciliating, and -agreeable. Amiability of disposition, generosity of heart, and an -acquaintance with affliction, were easily read upon that calm, pensive -countenance; but, commingled therewith, was an air of serene dignity -which bespoke a consciousness of some kind of superiority--whether of -rank, wealth, or intellect, could not, however, be immediately decided -by the observer. At all events, the person whom we have now introduced -to our readers was not one to be passed by with indifference, nor -confounded with the ordinary mass of mankind. We must, however, explain -that he was rather characterised by a distinguished air of good -breeding and consummate politeness than by aristocratic hauteur; at the -same time there was so much dignity and loftiness about him as to debar -even the most obtrusive and unceremonious from taking advantage of that -blandness of disposition which was expressed by the countenance. We -have only to add that he was dressed with taste, if not elegance; and -the reader has before him as perfect a picture as we can draw of the -personal appearance of the individual who now entered the parlour of -the cottage. - -The moment he had crossed the threshold of the room, Agnes sprang -towards him, saying, “My dearest father, I am delighted to see you! But -let me hope that nothing unpleasant has caused this late visit.” - -And, as she spoke, she embraced with almost infantine tenderness the -parent who affectionately returned her caresses. - -“Nothing unpleasant, my dear child,” was the reply; and then the young -maiden’s father cast an enquiring glance towards Mrs. Mortimer. - -“This lady,” said Agnes, “is the widow of a General who recently died -in India; and, having herself occupied the cottage many years ago, she -felt anxious, on her return to England, to visit the place which had so -many pleasing and some melancholy associations for her.” - -“The lady is most welcome,” observed the gentleman; “and her name----” - -“Is Mrs. Mortimer,” added Agnes: then, with ingenuous affability, she -said, turning to the old woman, “Madam, permit me to introduce my -beloved father, Mr. Vernon.” - -But Mr. Vernon bowed coldly, and even eyed the visitor suspiciously, as -he observed, “I was not aware that any General-officer bearing the name -of Mortimer had recently died in India.” - -“My deceased husband,” said the old woman, with admirable presence of -mind, “was not in the English service. He was in that of the Honourable -East India Company.” - -“I was not aware,” repeated Mr. Vernon, still in the same chilling -tone, “that there were General-officers in the service of the East -India Company. Madam,” he continued, now fixing his gaze sternly upon -her, “wherefore have you come hither?--on what pretence have you -intruded yourself upon the sacred privacy of my daughter?” - -“The motive was the one which Miss Vernon has explained to you, sir,” -replied Mrs. Mortimer, whose self-possession had been for a few moments -considerably disturbed by the confident manner in which the young -lady’s father had exposed her second falsehood. - -“Then, if that motive were really the true one, madam,” he said, his -sternness again changing to freezing politeness, “your object is -probably gained by this time; and, as it is now ten o’clock, you will -perhaps have the kindness to leave me with my daughter.” - -“Oh! assuredly, sir,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, glad of an opportunity -to escape from the house; and Mr. Vernon, with constrained courtesy, -hastened to open the door to afford her egress. - -The old woman breathed more freely when she was once more outside the -walls of the cottage; for the sudden advent of the young maiden’s -father had not a little embarrassed, even if it had not altogether -discomfited her. - -But no sooner was she in the open air, when she began to ask herself a -thousand questions as she retraced her way up the lane. - -What meant the mystery which evidently hung around the present occupant -of the cottage?--wherefore did that charming creature dwell there -alone?--why was her father only a visitor, instead of being a resident -at his daughter’s abode?--and for what aim, or through what motive, was -so fair a flower buried in such seclusion? - -That Agnes was indeed the pure, innocent, artless creature which she -appeared to be, the old crone was sure. Too well acquainted with the -world was Mrs. Mortimer not to perceive that the ingenuous _naïveté_ of -the young girl was real and natural, and not artificial and assumed. -For an instant the impure imagination of the wretch had suggested -that Miss Vernon might only be the pensioned mistress of some wealthy -individual; but in another moment that hypothesis was altogether -discarded. No: Agnes was not tainted with even the slightest--faintest -shade of immorality: her mind was innocence itself--and her chastity as -unblemished as the driven snow. Even the old woman, whose life had been -so tremendously dissolute, was compelled to embrace this conviction; -but the very experience which she herself had gained in the sphere -of licentiousness, dissimulation, and guile, helped Mrs. Mortimer to -arrive at that unquestionable conclusion. - -Who and what, then, was Agnes Vernon;--who and what was her father? - -Mrs. Mortimer was a person having an eye to her own individual -advantage in every circumstance which, coming under her cognisance, -seemed to present a chance of affording scope for her selfish, -interested, sinister interference. Wherever a mystery appeared, there -she beheld an opportunity for her officious meddling: this officious -meddling led to the discovery of secrets and to the eliciting of -revelations:--and the information thus gleaned became a sort of -marketable commodity with Mrs. Mortimer. In a word, she would seek -to gain the confidence of those who had matters of importance to -communicate, so that she might subsequently render herself so useful -as to deserve payment, or at all events acquire the position of one -who could exact a good price for her secresy respecting the things so -imprudently entrusted to her. - -Calculations in accordance with this disposition on her part, and -having reference to the cottage which she had just left, were passing -in her mind as she sped along the lane,--when, midway in that narrow -thoroughfare, she was overtaken by some one who had hurried after her, -but whose footsteps she had not heard, in the pre-occupation of her -thoughts, until they were close behind her. - -She stepped--turned round--and beheld, by the bright starlight, a tall -young gentleman, apparently handsome so far as she could distinguish -his features, and dressed in an elegant style. - -“Pardon me, my good woman,” said he, “for addressing you; but observing -that you came from the cottage yonder----” - -“Yes, sir--I did,” interrupted Mrs. Mortimer, who, in her eagerness -to learn the motive of the young gentleman’s accosting her, gave him -encouragement to proceed. - -“Tell me,” said he, speaking with an equal impatience,--“tell me--do -you know the beautiful creature who dwells in that seclusion? But -of course you must know her--you have been there--perhaps in her -company----” - -“I have only just left her presence,” observed Mrs. Mortimer. - -“And you are well acquainted with her, then?” cried the young -gentleman, eagerly. - -“Perfectly well,” was the answer. “But wherefore these questions?” - -“Oh! if I could trust you!” ejaculated the stranger, in a tone that -alike proffered and invited confidence. - -“You can--you may,” said the old woman, impressively. - -“If I were assured of that, I would reward you well,” was his next -remark. - -“How can I prove that I am trustworthy?” demanded Mrs. Mortimer. - -“By telling me all you know concerning the beauteous creature who -resides in that strange seclusion,” responded the young gentleman. - -“Then you yourself know nothing of her or of her affairs?” said the old -woman, interrogatively. - -“Nothing--absolutely nothing--save and except that she is the most -lovely being that mortal eyes ever beheld!” - -“You are not even aware that she has resided there for these three -years past?” observed Mrs. Mortimer, assuming a mysterious tone as if -about to become more communicative. - -“Yes--that fact I have learnt,” replied the young gentleman; “and -also that her name is Agnes Vernon. I have moreover ascertained that -an elderly gentleman visits her occasionally;--and I have sometimes -harboured the worst fears----But, no--no,” he exclaimed, suddenly -interrupting himself and speaking in an impassioned tone: “such -suspicions are no doubt foully injurious to that charming creature! I -have contemplated her, myself being unseen, for hours together when she -has been walking in her garden,--and purity, innocence, artlessness -are written upon her spotless brow--traced in every lineament of her -bewitching countenance. Oh! If I could only obtain the assurance that -the old man who thus visits her were a relation--a guardian--or a -valued friend,--that he is nothing more to her than----” - -“I can relieve you of this suspense, sir,” said Mrs. Mortimer, “and -thereby give you a proof of my readiness to assist you. The elderly -gentleman whom you have seen visiting at that cottage, and who indeed -is there at this moment----” - -“Yes--yes--I saw him enter,” exclaimed the young man, impatiently. “But -who is he?” - -“Her father!” answered Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Her father!” repeated the stranger. “Oh! that is scarcely probable! -You are deceiving me:--you are pretending to give me explanations -relative to mysteries which are likewise enigmas to you,--or you are -purposely deluding me! Her father!--impossible! What--would a parent -leave his daughter--and that daughter so transcendently lovely--to -dwell in such utter seclusion----” - -“Such is indeed the case, sir,” interrupted Mrs. Mortimer; “and I have -little cause to thank you for thus boldly and even insolently accusing -me of wilfully deceiving you.” - -And, as she thus spoke, the old woman moved rapidly away, well knowing -that the young gentleman would not part with her in this manner. - -“Stop one minute--stay--I beseech you--and pardon me!” he exclaimed, -hastening after her. “I was wrong to address you in such a style: -I insulted you grossly--and I crave your forgiveness. But I was -bewildered with the intelligence you gave me: mingled joy and surprise -deprived me, as it were, of my reason. I imagined the information to be -too welcome and too extraordinary to be true!” - -“And yet you ere now sought to persuade yourself that Agnes Vernon -was chaste and pure, though you were then ignorant of the connexion -subsisting between herself and the elderly gentleman who visits her--a -connexion which, previously to the explanation I have given you, must -at least have appeared suspicious, and calculated to raise the most -serious misgivings in your breast.” - -“I admit that my conduct is most inconsistent,” exclaimed the young -gentleman, in answer to these reproachful words: “but I love Agnes -Vernon--I adore her--I worship the very ground upon which she -treads----” - -“And you have never yet spoken to her?” asked the old woman. - -“I have never dared to intrude myself so far upon her notice,” was the -reply: “and yet she has seen me frequently in the neighbourhood----” - -“But she never gave you the least encouragement, sir,” interrupted Mrs. -Mortimer, as if making an assertion, instead of throwing out a remark -for the sake of gleaning information. - -“Never--never!” exclaimed the young man; “and therefore did I think -so well of her character, in spite of the suspicious circumstances -attending her seclusion.” - -“You have, then, the vanity to suppose that if the beautiful Agnes -could have smiled upon any man, you were destined to be that happy -one;”--and, as Mrs. Mortimer made this remark, her voice assumed a -somewhat caustic tone. - -“Oh! you have misunderstood my words,” cried the stranger. “I intended -to have you infer that I had never seen any thing in the demeanour and -deportment of Agnes Vernon save what is becoming to a young lady of -good birth, genteel breeding, and taintless soul. At the same time,” he -added, proudly, “I flatter myself that there is nothing particularly -disagreeable in my personal appearance, as there is assuredly -everything favourable in my social position. But of _this_ Agnes is -ignorant; and I am desirous to obtain an interview with her--or to -write to her in a respectful manner----” - -“And what has hitherto prevented you from doing either?” asked Mrs. -Mortimer. - -“I have already told you that I dared not accost her. Often and often -have I longed to burst through the green hedge which has concealed me -from her view, and throw myself at her feet: but an invisible hand -has restrained me--and I have experienced a species of awe for which -I could not account, and which has made me feel as if I were in the -vicinity of a goddess. Then, as to writing to her,” continued the -impassioned young man, “I was once bold enough to commit a few words to -paper--and I endeavoured to persuade the young servant-girl to give the -note to her mistress.” - -“And she treated you with contempt,” said Mrs. Mortimer, anticipating -the fate of the _billet_ from the fact that Jane, the pretty domestic, -had so indignantly rejected her own proffer of five shillings. - -“You have guessed rightly--and now I am more than ever convinced -that you are well acquainted with the honest, upright, disinterested -character of the dwellers in that cottage,” said the young gentleman. - -Mrs. Mortimer remained silent for a few minutes. She was absorbed in -thought. Should she enter into this new affair which seemed almost to -force itself upon her? or had she not enough already upon her hands? -She had promised to rejoin her daughter Laura by a particular day in -Paris; and there was not much time to lose. Nevertheless, she had -a good week, or even more, at her disposal--providing that she was -speedily successful in tracing out Torrens; and, all things duly -considered, she fancied that she might as well undertake a business -which promised remuneration, and which would probably place her in a -condition to learn secrets and dive into mysteries, a knowledge of -which might prove serviceable in the hands of such an intriguing, -mercenary disposition as her own. Moreover, the larger were her own -special resources, the greater was her independence in respect to her -rebellious daughter; and therefore, after a short interval passed in -deep reflection, she said, “Sir, I am both ready and able to serve you. -But my time is precious now, and will be so for a short time to come. -Five days hence I will attend to any appointment that you may name.” - -[Illustration] - -“I will give you my card,” said the young gentleman: “and I shall -expect you to call upon me in the evening of the fifth day from this -date.” - -“Agreed!” ejaculated the old woman, as she received the card. “My -name is Mortimer; and, although you do not address me as becomes my -position, I can assure you that I am a lady by birth, education, -and----” - -She was about to say “conduct;” but the young gentleman, interrupted -her timeously enough, though unwittingly on his part, to prevent her -giving utterance to the atrocious lie;--for he observed, as he thrust -his purse into her hand, “Pardon me, madam, if I have not behaved -courteously towards you: but I presume that your circumstances are not -as flourishing as they ought to be, and gold is no object to me. Five -days hence we meet: till then, farewell.” - -And, without waiting for any reply, he hurried away. - -Mrs. Mortimer followed along the lane not with any purpose of watching -him, but simply because her own route lay in the same direction. The -echoes of his retreating steps, however, soon died in the distance; and -the old woman sped along until she reached that public-house where, -as the reader may remember, Tom Rain and Clarence Villiers met on the -night of the elopement nearly twenty years before. - -Approaching the window, whence a bright glare streamed forth, Mrs. -Mortimer examined the card that had been placed in her hands, and, to -her astonishment, found that the hero of her most recent adventure was -Lord William Trevelyan, and that his residence was in Park Square. -She knew enough of the English peerage to be well aware that the -nobleman whom chance had thus thrown in her way was the second son of -the Marquis of Curzon, a peer of immense wealth, and who permitted -his three male children--all fine young men--to enjoy each a separate -establishment for himself, for which purpose he allowed them handsome -incomes. - -Mrs. Mortimer was therefore well pleased at the encounter which she had -that evening made; and in more ways than one was she rejoiced at having -visited the cottage in the neighbourhood of Streatham,--especially as -the purse which Lord William had given her contained thirty guineas. - -An omnibus passing at this moment, the old woman entered the vehicle, -and alighted in the Borough. She was speeding homeward--that is to say, -to the coffee-house where she had fixed her temporary abode--when, -as she was threading a narrow street that offered her a short cut to -the place of destination, she was suddenly struck by the certainty -that a man who was walking slowly in advance, and whom she had nearly -overtaken, was neither more nor less than the object of her search! - -For, as he had turned to cast a rapid, stealthy glance around, the -light of a lamp had beamed fully upon his countenance;--and that -countenance, altered though it were, was too well known to the old -woman not to be immediately recognised. - -Yes: there indeed was Torrens,--there--in her power--within a few -paces of her;--and thus had accident once more materially served his -malignant, evil-intentioned pursuer. - -Mrs. Mortimer was so excited by this sudden discovery, that she was -compelled to pause for a moment and lean against a wall for support. -But, almost immediately afterwards recovering her energy and presence -of mind, she hastened on, and came near enough up with Torrens to -behold him enter a house of mean and miserable appearance. - -“Now you are in my power!” muttered the old woman to herself, but in -reality apostrophising the individual who was still her husband: and, -without another moment’s hesitation, she knocked at the door of the -dwelling. - -Some minutes elapsed before it was opened; and at length a dirty, -slipshod drab of a girl made her appearance. - -“I wish to speak to the man who has just entered here,” said Mrs. -Mortimer, unceremoniously pushing her way into the narrow, dark, and -unpleasantly smelling passage. - -“Oh! you means old Mr. Smith what lives down stairs, I des say,” -observed the girl. - -“I have no doubt of it,” returned Mrs. Mortimer, officiously closing -the street-door. “Come, my dear, show me the way--and I will give you -sixpence for yourself.” - -This promise acted like magic upon the girl, who forthwith fetched a -lighted candle from a room opening from the passage, and conducted the -old woman to a precipitate flight of steps, down which she pointed, -saying, “There--right at the bottom: the door faces you.” - -Mrs. Mortimer placed the promised gratuity in her hand, and the girl -held the candle high up to light her as she descended. - -“That will do, my dear,” said the old woman when she had reached the -last step of the dangerous flight; and the girl disappeared, leaving -the place in utter darkness. - -Before the candle had been thus removed, however, Mrs. Mortimer had -hastily reconnoitred the locality; and, applying her hand to a latch, -she opened a door, and in another moment found herself in the presence -of her husband! - - - - -CHAPTER CLX. - -THE HUSBAND AND WIFE. - - -The place where the husband and wife met thus, after a separation -of upwards of nineteen years, was what the poor term “a kitchen,” -but which rather merited the designation of “a cellar.” The roof was -low and arched--the rough brick-work of the walls, once smeared with -white-wash, was now dingy all over--and in the day-time a gleam of -light was admitted by means of a miserably small window protected and -also darkened by a grating set in the foot-way of the street. The -den contained a fire-place, where the inmate might cook his victuals -if he were able to bear the intolerable heat of a fire in the midst -of summer; and at the extremity facing the window was a small bed. A -table, two chairs, a few articles of crockery, and a washing-stand, -completed the appointments of this wretched place, which was dimly -lighted by a solitary candle. - -The reader is already aware that Torrens was much altered in personal -appearance: nevertheless, his wife had recognised him in the street -without any difficulty. But it was not precisely the same on his part: -had _he_ met _her_ in an accidental manner, he would not have known -her, so remarkable was the change that had taken place in her. Yet -he did know her now--for he had seen her in the little parlour at -Percival’s house; and the moment she stood before him on the threshold -of his present hiding-place, a cry of horror and alarm escaped his lips. - -Mrs. Mortimer closed the door, and, taking a chair, motioned her -husband likewise to be seated--a kind of command which he mechanically -obeyed; for something told him that he was in the power of the woman -whom he hated and abhorred. - -“We meet after a long, long separation,” she said, in a low tone, which -left him still in utter doubt as to whether the object of her visit was -peace or war. - -“Yes--yes,” he observed, nervously: “but wherefore should we meet at -all?” - -“Not to exchange caresses and endearing words--not to unite our -fortunes or our misfortunes, as husband and wife,” responded the old -woman. “Of _that_ you may be well assured!” - -“Then, again I ask--wherefore should we meet?” demanded Torrens. - -“Because this interview suits my purposes,” returned Mrs. Mortimer, -with a malignant grin; “and I may as well commence by assuring you that -you are completely in my power.” - -“In your power!” repeated the old man, casting a ghastly look of -mingled apprehension and appeal on her who thus proclaimed her -authority, and who seemed resolved to exercise it. - -“Yes--in my power,” she exclaimed, in an impressive manner. “Do you -know that I was arrested on suspicion of being the murderess, or at all -events concerned in the murder--” - -“Murder! oh--my God!” moaned Torrens, clasping his hands together in -convulsive anguish, as he glared wildly around. - -“Do not affect ignorance of the fact,” said Mrs. Mortimer: “because you -are doubtless well aware that I _was_ arrested for _your_ crime.” - -“No--no: you cannot prove that I did it--you can prove nothing!” cried -Torrens, with a species of hysterical violence. - -“I can prove that _you_ were the murderer of Percival,” responded the -old woman, fixing her eyes sternly upon her husband. - -“Liar--wretch--I defy you!” exclaimed Torrens, his energy suddenly -reviving as he saw the absolute necessity of meeting with boldness a -charge which he felt convinced his wife could _not_ prove against him: -for how could she possibly entertain anything more serious than a bare -suspicion? - -“Harsh words and abuse will not intimidate me,” said she, in a quiet -voice; “and all these variations in your manner--nervousness at one -moment, terror the next, and then excitement--only tend to confirm me -in my ideas. Listen, old man--and see whether I have just ground for -those ideas, and whether you could explain away my tale, if told to the -nearest police-magistrate.” - -Torrens groaned audibly, and fell back in his chair--but not -insensible--only in the exhaustion of his physical and the prostration -of his moral energies; and his eyes glared in consternation on the -countenance of the accusing fiend whose very presence would have been -intolerable, even if he had committed no crime for her to be able to -accuse him of. - -“Listen, I say,” resumed the implacable old woman. “You were at -Percival’s house a few moments before myself and daughter called upon -him. You seemed to be very miserable--so miserable that you wished -to obtain assistance from him. These were the very words he used to -me; and he observed likewise that he never _gave_--consequently you -extorted nothing from him. But you watched through the window-shutters, -from the outside, the interview which took place between him and myself -and daughter: you beheld the gold and the notes displayed upon the -table; and when the old miser was once more alone, you entered the -house--and--and you murdered him with a bludgeon!” - -Torrens started convulsively, and endeavoured to give utterance to an -ejaculation of denial; but his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, -and his throat was as parched as if he had been swallowing ashes. - -“Yes--you murdered him,” repeated Mrs. Mortimer, apparently dwelling -with fiendish delight upon the horrible accusation: “you beat the -wretched man to death--your blows were dealt with a cruel, a merciless -effect. Then you plundered the iron safe--you took all the treasure -contained in the tin-case--gold and bank-notes to the amount of several -thousands of pounds!” - -“It is not true--it is not true!” said Torrens, partially recovering -the power of speech. - -“But it _is_ true--all true--precisely as I now repeat the details,” -cried Mrs. Mortimer, emphatically. - -“You are mad to think me the possessor of such a treasure, when you -find me in this miserable place, with thread-bare garments, and -surrounded by every proof of a poverty amounting almost to utter -destitution,” said Torrens, his courage to meet the charge somewhat -reviving as he flattered himself that the argument just used was -decisive and unanswerable. - -“Do you imagine me to be so thoroughly ignorant of the world as to -become your dupe on such easy terms?” demanded the old woman, in a tone -of withering scorn. “Look at all I have passed through, and then ask -yourself whether it be possible to deceive and mislead me! No, no--I -understand it all. You believe that suspicion will never fall upon the -wretched inmate of such a wretched place,” she continued, glancing -slowly around the cellar--“and your calculation is a correct one. Here -might you have concealed yourself--here might you have passed some -weeks in apparent poverty, until the storm should have blown over. But -it was destined that _one_ person should obtain a clue to your guilt -and a trace to your lurking-hole--and that person is myself! Nay, to -convince you how well all your late proceedings are known to me, I have -only to mention the fact that a few days ago you visited the cottage -which once bore your name----” - -“Ah!” ejaculated Torrens, startled by this new proof of how -well-informed his hated wife in reality was concerning his movements. - -“Yes--and to the fair inmate of that dwelling,” she added, with a look -full of malignant meaning, “you admitted that you were poor no longer, -but that you wished you indeed were the penniless and half-starving -wretch you had so recently been! Thus the very outpourings of -your remorse, old man, have furnished me with arguments--damning -arguments--against you, and confirmed all my previous suspicions, if -such confirmation were for an instant needed.” - -“Why do you now come to me?” asked Torrens, in a faint and faltering -tone, while his entire frame trembled nervously, and his countenance -became so ghastly, that it was absolutely hideous to behold. - -“My purpose is stern and immoveable,” replied the old woman. - -“And that purpose--is----” faltered Torrens, trembling like an aspen. - -“The surrender of every shilling--yes, every shilling--of the treasure -which you plundered from the murdered Percival,” was the answer. - -“Malediction!” ejaculated the wretched man, starting wildly from his -seat as if he had received a sudden wound: then, sinking back again -through sheer exhaustion, he pressed his hand to his throbbing brows, -murmuring and lamenting in broken sentences such as these:--“My -gold--my notes--the treasure I lost my soul to gain--the riches I had -hoped to enjoy--the wealth to acquire which I imbrued my hands in -blood--the blood of a fellow-creature--no--no--you shall not have my -treasure.” - -And he started up, flinging his arms wildly about him, while his eyes -rolled horribly in their sockets, as if he were attacked by delirium. - -Mrs. Mortimer sate calm and motionless, resolved to allow the paroxysm -to pass ere she reiterated her stern demand. She knew--she saw that he -was in her power,--now more so than ever, since he had admitted the -dread crime by his unguarded exclamations. - -“Woman, you will drive me mad!” suddenly cried her husband, falling -back again into his seat, and looking at her with a hyena-like rage -expressed upon his countenance. - -“I do not seek such a catastrophe,” she observed, coolly. - -“But you an urging me to it,” he replied, with savage fierceness. -“No--no--I will not surrender my gold: you cannot compel me!” - -“It is for you to decide whether you will adopt that alternative, or -pass hence in a few minutes to the nearest station-house,” responded -Mrs. Mortimer, her voice being still characterised by a calmness and -deliberation indicative of the most implacable sternness of purpose. - -“The station-house!” moaned Torrens, with a cold shudder: then, again -becoming dreadfully excited, he exclaimed, “I will die first--and you -shall perish also! Yes--I will murder you, and afterwards----” - -“This is child’s play!” said Mrs. Mortimer, laughing at the threat, -as she took up a knife which lay upon the table. “Advance towards me -another pace--and I will plunge this sharp blade into your heart. The -treasure, which is no doubt concealed somewhere in the room, will then -fall into my hands all the same.” - -“You are determined to rifle me of all I possess--to plunder me--to -make me penniless!” cried Torrens, falling back in his seat, and giving -way to his despair. “Can nothing move you? But, listen--listen: I will -give you half--yes--one-half of the whole amount----” - -“I came not to receive terms, but to dictate them,” interrupted Mrs. -Mortimer. “And now reflect well upon your position, old man;--and -remember also that your wild ravings may draw listeners to the door, -and your guilt will be no longer a secret existing between you and me. -Then, naught--naught can save your neck from the halter!” - -“My God! she speaks truly,” murmured Torrens, bewildered by the -dreadful thoughts that rushed to his brain as the woman spoke so -calmly and deliberately of the ignominious death which might overtake -him: “yes--she speaks truly!” he repeated; “and yet, if I give up -all--surrender everything--on what am I to live? how am I to sustain my -miserable existence?” - -“You had no kind thought--no compassion for me, when you had friends -to help you, and I was banished across the wide ocean,” said Mrs. -Mortimer: “you cared not what became of me at that time, Torrens--and I -have now no pity, no sympathy for you! I am aware that you loathe and -detest me;--but your aversion surpasses not that which I entertain for -you. There we are well matched: it is however in our relative positions -that I have gained the ascendancy and can wield the authority of a -despot. My crime is of old date, and has been expiated by many long, -long years of horrible exile and servitude in a penal colony: your -crime is new--the blood is scarcely dry upon your hands--your victim is -scarcely cold in his grave--and your guilt can only be expiated on the -scaffold.” - -“Spare me--spare me,” groaned the wretched man, clasping his hands -together in an anguish which, assassin as he was, would have moved any -other than the soul-hardened, implacable Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Spare you, indeed!” she repeated, in a contemptuous tone: “in what -way can I spare you? If you ask me not to betray you into the hands -of the officers of justice, I at once reassure you on that head--but -with the one condition that you surrender up to me, and without further -parley, every sixpence of the amount you have secreted somewhere in -this place. I do not seek your life: I wish you to live, that you may -be miserable--that you may know what starvation is--that you may wander -the streets, houseless and penniless--dependent upon eleemosynary -charity--begging your bread----” - -“Merciful heaven! it is a fiend who is addressing these frightful words -to me now!” ejaculated Torrens, surveying his wife with horror and -astonishment. - -“No--it is a woman,--a woman whom you deserted in her bitter trouble, -and who now wreaks her vengeance upon you,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “Carry -back your reminiscences some nineteen years or upwards, and contrast -our positions then. You found friends and relations to console you -while still in gaol, and to assist you after your release. But did you -come near me? did you even send a word or a line to sympathise or to -proffer aid! Miserable wretch that you are, I could wish that you were -ten thousand times more miserable still!” - -“Oh! that is impossible--impossible!” exclaimed Torrens, his -cadaverous countenance denoting, by its hideous, painful workings, -the sincerity--the profound sincerity that prompted the averment he -had just made. “Were you to search the earth over, you could not find -a being more miserable than I! And now--and now,” he continued, in a -faltering tone, while tears trickled down his furrowed cheeks,--“now, -will you have compassion upon me?” - -“No--ten thousand times _no_!” ejaculated Mrs. Mortimer. “And I warn -you to hasten and surrender your wealth--or I shall lose all power of -restraining my impatience.” - -Torrens rose from his seat, cast one look of malignant--diabolical hate -upon the merciless woman, dashed the traces of grief away from his -cheeks, and then turned towards the bed. - -Mrs. Mortimer followed him with her eyes--those eyes now so greedy, -suspicions, and anxious lest by any possibility her prey should escape -her! - -The wretched old man, whose heart experienced all the pains of hell, -slowly and with trembling hands raised the miserable mattresses; and -from beneath he drew forth a small parcel, wrapped in brown paper -and tied with a thick string. This he handed to Mrs. Mortimer, who, -heedless of the terrible glance which accompanied it, hastened to open -the packet and examine its contents. - -And now her triumph was complete;--for the parcel enclosed gold and -notes to an amount which she proceeded in a leisurely manner to compute. - -“Five thousand four hundred pounds,” she said aloud, casting a -malignant look upon Torrens, who had resumed his seat and appeared to -be the victim of a despair that must terminate in the total wreck of -his reason. “And here,” she continued, now musing to herself rather -than speaking for his behoof,--“here is a document that may prove of -some importance to me,--the promissory note of the young man who called -himself _Viscount Marston_.” - -Thus speaking, she carefully packed up the parcel once more, and -secured it about her person. - -“And you will not leave me a guinea--a single guinea?” asked Torrent, -in a low, hollow voice--his entire aspect indicating that he was -almost stupified by the merciless cupidity of his wife. - -“Not a single guinea,” she replied. “The only consolation I can afford -you is the assurance that your secret is safe with me. If you are ever -sent to the scaffold--it will not be through my instrumentality.” - -With these words, she retreated towards the door, walking backwards, -so as to keep her eyes fixed upon Torrens the whole time, and thus be -prepared for a sudden attack should he meditate mischief, or, in an -ungovernable paroxysm of rage and despair, attempt it. - -But the old man moved not from his seat, although he appeared to reel -and sway unsteadily backward and forward in his chair; and at the -moment when Mrs. Mortimer placed her hand on the latch, he fell heavily -upon the floor. - -She was about to depart when it struck her that, if he were dead, -unpleasant suspicions might attach themselves to her, should she hurry -away without raising any alarm; and she accordingly hastened towards -him. He was senseless--but the spark of life was not extinct; and now -through fear did the woman perform those duties to which she never -could have been otherwise urged in respect to him. She raised him -in her arms--she placed him on the bed--removed his neckcloth--and -sprinkled water upon his face. In a few minutes he began to revive, and -his eyes opened slowly. - -“Where am I?--is it a dream?” he murmured in a faint tone: then, as -his recollection returned with speed and vividness, and he knew the -countenance that was bending over him, and remembered why the woman -herself was there, he exclaimed, “Fiend! give me back my gold!” - -“Never!” was the emphatic word that fell upon his ear in reply--and in -another moment he was alone. - -No--not alone: for Despair was now his companion. - -And Despair is an appalling guest:--for, murderer as the man was, he -had some kind of worldly consolation left in his treasure until the -implacable woman wrested it from him. But now that only solace was -gone--and he was left to the horror of his thoughts, and to the ghost -of his victim. Beggary was before him--beggary, with all its hideous -train of evils, and those evils rendered the more terrible because -beyond loomed the black and ominous gibbet! - -Oh! how was it that madness did not seize upon the old man’s brain, and -rob him of the power of making these agonizing reflections? - -Was it that his punishment was to begin upon earth? If so, assuredly -the retribution was appalling, even on this side of the tomb;--and he -had not even left to him the consolation that the gold for which he had -bartered his soul was still in his possession--still at his command, -and available for his use! - - - - -CHAPTER CLXI. - -AGNES VERNON AND HER FATHER. - - -We must now return to the cottage near Streatham, were we left the -beautiful and artless Agnes Vernon with her father. - -The moment the old woman had quitted the house, Mr. Vernon turned -towards his daughter, and, taking her hand, said, “My dearest child, -how came you to admit a complete stranger into your presence in so -unguarded a manner?” - -“As I had never seen her in my life before, dear father,” replied the -charming girl, “I could not for an instant suppose that she had any -evil intention in visiting the cottage; because, having done her no -harm----” - -“But, my beloved Agnes,” interrupted her parent kindly, as he made -her sit down near him as he also took a chair, “I have often told you -that the world contains many wicked people, who frequently harbour the -basest and most infamous designs towards young women who are pretty and -unsuspecting as you; and this Mrs. Mortimer, as she calls herself, may -be one of the class I have alluded to.” - -“I am sorry indeed that I should have acted in a way to cause you any -displeasure, my dearest father,” said Agnes, her eyes filling with -tears; “but--” - -“You do not understand me, my sweet child,” again interrupted Mr. -Vernon, passing his hand affectionately over her glossy hair, and pure, -polished brow; “I am not angry with you--indeed, it would be impossible -to experience any irritation with such an amiable, excellent girl as -you are. But I am alarmed lest evil-disposed persons should seek to do -you an injury--and therefore I recommend caution and prudence on your -part.” - -“I cannot comprehend how the old lady who was here just now could -possibly seek to harm me,” said the amiable Agnes, “since I have never -harmed her, and, on the contrary, treated her with the respect due to -her years and her afflictions.” - -“What did she tell you, my love?” inquired Mr. Vernon. - -Agnes forthwith related, in her own natural, simple, yet agreeable -manner, the entire conversation which had passed between herself and -Mrs. Mortimer. - -Her father listened with earnest attention; and for some minutes after -she had ceased speaking, he remained absorbed in deep thought. - -“You are not pleased with the incident of this evening,” said Agnes, -at length, and speaking in a timid voice, as she gazed with anxious -fondness on her parent’s pensive countenance. - -“Once more I assure you, my well-beloved child,” he responded, “that -I am not angry with you. But you will, perhaps, be somewhat surprised -to hear me declare that I do not believe one syllable of all the old -woman told you. In the great world, Agnes, there is no such thing as -that sentimentalism and sympathy which she professed to be the motives -that led her to visit the cottage ere now. I detected her in two -falsehoods--and I have every reason to suspect all the rest.” - -“But was it not natural, dear papa, for her to be desirous to behold -once more the scene where she had passed many happy days with her -deceased husband?” inquired Agnes. “Oh! I can well understand such a -feeling--and I therefore honoured and respected her for entertaining -it.” - -“Yes--there are a few generous hearts that would experience such -sentiments,” observed Mr. Vernon; “for perhaps I was too hasty ere now -in the sweeping condemnation which I levelled at what I termed the -great world. At the same time, Agnes, you must not judge the world -by your own pure and unsophisticated soul. And would to God that -experience might never be destined to teach you other lessons than -those which seclusion and good training have already inculcated: would -to God that you might never be compelled to look upon the dark side of -human affairs!” - -“Have I other lessons to learn--other teachings to undergo--other -experience to acquire, beyond what I already know?” asked the ingenuous -and candid Agnes. - -“Alas! yes--and in a variety of ways,” responded her father, with -a sigh. “You have as yet seen only one phase of the world--that -of tranquillity, serene happiness, and peace. You have not even -heard the storms of that world in the distance. Hitherto your life -has been passed under the most genial influences; and you know -nothing--absolutely nothing, of what may be termed _life_. Again I say, -therefore, how deeply--how earnestly it is to be wished that your mind -may never become acquainted with the bitter teachings of vicissitude or -misfortune.” - -“I am already well aware, my dear father, from my historical studies -and from the perusal of the books which you have selected for me, that -mankind pursues many and varied conflicting interests, and that _gain_ -is the chief object thus sought after, But I am still at a loss,” -continued the beautiful Agnes, “to understand how people can be wicked -enough to injure others who have never injured them, and when the -infliction of such injury can confer no benefit upon the individual -who is guilty of such flagrant wrong. Suppose, for instance, that this -Mrs. Mortimer who was here just now, should in reality entertain some -evil design towards me, how could she possibly acquire any personal -advantage from the pursuit of such conduct?” - -“You are as yet too innocent--oh! far too innocent, if not too young, -to understand these matters,” said Mr. Vernon, gazing with all a -father’s affection upon his beauteous and artless child. “Neither is it -for me to remove the film from your eyes in this respect.” - -“And yet, dear papa,” she observed, with the most endearing, amiable -_naïveté_, “if no one will point out the shoals, rocks, and quicksands -to me, how can I possibly avoid them? You see that just now I erred by -receiving that person too frankly--too cordially----” - -“And the old man who called the other evening, too,” said her father, -with a smile. “Now, do you not perceive, my dear child, that there -is something suspicious in these two visits, which indeed appear -to have some degree of relationship to each other, and perhaps had -the same instigation. I cannot conceive that accident should send -two persons hither, separately and at a short interval, on the same -pretence, unless they were acting in collusion. That such an accidental -coincidence might happen, I admit; but prudence--worldly prudence, my -love, makes us look suspiciously upon such events; and I confess that -this is the light in which I view the present occurrences. The woman -represented herself as the widow of a General who had lately died in -India: now I happen to be so well-informed on these matters as to be -enabled to state most emphatically that no General-officer of that name -has existed for many years past. Finding herself at fault in respect -to her first assertion, your visitor endeavoured to make good her tale -by means of a second; but the falsehood was equally palpable in this -latter case. Now, therefore, my dearest Agnes, you comprehend that -there are good and just grounds for suspecting the motive which led her -hither.” - -“Is it possible that persons can be so wicked?” exclaimed the young -maiden. - -“It is, alas! too true,” replied her father; “and therefore you cannot -be too much upon your guard in respect to strangers. I wonder that Mrs. -Gifford did not represent to you the impropriety of allowing the old -man to force his way into your presence a few days ago----” - -“Both Mrs. Gifford and Jane spoke to me on the subject after he was -gone,” said Agnes, desirous to rescue her two servants from blame: “but -I fancied their timidity had made them conjure up visions of thieves -and housebreakers, and I only laughed while they remonstrated.” - -“Then you now perceive, dear Agnes, that they were right in the -observations which they undertook to address to you,” said Mr. Vernon. - -“Yes--and I am sorry that I did not listen with more attention,” -answered the amiable girl. “In future, my dear father, I will allow no -one to enter the house unless he or she be the bearer of a letter from -you.” - -“This is precisely what I could desire, Agnes,” exclaimed Mr. Vernon; -“and you will afford me unfeigned pleasure if you adhere to this -resolution.” - -“You know that I will do all you enjoin--even without questioning your -motives,” observed Agnes. “Command--and I obey.” - -“My dear child, the word ‘_command_’ exists not in the vocabulary -that I have to use when conveying my wishes to you. So dutiful--so -good--so willing are you, Agnes, that I have never had occasion to -speak with imperiousness or harshness to you. You do not even question -me concerning those matters which might naturally awaken your curiosity -and your interest.” - -“It is sufficient for me to know that you desire me to dwell in this -seclusion,” said Agnes; “and as you have exerted yourself, my dearest -father, to surround me with every comfort--every element of happiness, -I should be indeed ungrateful and unjust were I to seek prematurely -those explanations which you have promised to give me when the proper -time shall arrive.” - -“And that time is not so very far distant, Agnes,” said Mr. Vernon. -“Two years more--and I shall no longer have any secrets from you. But -while we are thus conversing, I forget that it is waxing late and that -I have not even as yet begun to account for the sudden and unexpected -visit which circumstances have compelled me to pay you this evening.” - -Agnes now regarded her parent with some degree of suspense; for his -remark had brought back to her memory the circumstance that he had -never called at so late an hour before, and, moreover, that this was -the third time he had visited her within the week--an occurrence at -variance with his ordinary habit. - -“My dear child,” said Mr. Vernon, speaking in the kindest tone -possible, “I am compelled to leave England on urgent business -to-morrow.” - -“Leave England!” repeated Agnes, tears starting into her eyes. - -“Yes, my beloved--and I regret to add that my absence may be of some -weeks’ duration. Paris is the place whither this sudden and unexpected -business calls me; and though I shall be away from you, yet will you -ever be present in my thoughts, and I shall write to you frequently.” - -“But how many weeks shall you be absent, my dear father?” asked Agnes, -the pearly drops now chasing each other adown her cheeks. - -“Eight or ten, my child,” responded Mr. Vernon: “but at the expiration -of that period you will be certain to see me again. Remember, Agnes, -that far longer intervals than this have occurred during which we have -been completely separated--” - -“Yes, my dear father--when I was staying in the country with my -governess, who is now no more,” interrupted Agnes, unable to stifle her -sobs: “but ever since her death I have seen you frequently--far more -frequently.” - -“Because I removed you to this cottage which I purchased for you, and -which is so much nearer to London than was Mrs. Clement’s abode at St. -Alban’s. However, my sweet Agnes--compose yourself--cheer up--and wipe -away those tears. I cannot bear to see you weep,” he added, his own -voice growing tremulous. “Two months or two months and a half will soon -glide away; and I shall bring you a number of presents from Paris.” - -“You spoil me with your kindness, my dear father,” exclaimed the -beautiful girl, throwing her arms about his neck, and embracing him -tenderly. “I am afraid that I must cost you a great deal of money--for -you are always buying me something new. But then, you are very -rich--are you not, dear papa!” - -“Thank God, I am--and for your sake!” cried Mr. Vernon, returning her -fond caresses. “The time will come, Agnes, when you will learn how -powerful a talisman, in respect to happiness, is money. Some of the -books which I have selected for you inculcate maxims against avarice, -covetousness, and selfishness: while others even go further, and -endeavour to prove that a moderate competency is more compatible with -true happiness than an immense fortune can possibly be. But I much -question whether the authors of those works would not have leapt at the -chance of giving the truth of their assertions a fair trial through -the medium of experience in respect to the possession of riches. -Such books, however, do good; they infuse salutary thoughts into the -mind--although the influence thereof must inevitably become subdued, -if not altogether destroyed, in proportion as the individual advances -in worldly knowledge, and finds worldly interests crowding upon him. -Riches, my dearest Agnes, may become a blessing or a curse according to -the manner in which the possessor uses them; and by this observation I -believe that I shall have opened a new field for the exercise of your -reflections and good sense.” - -“Oh! you have indeed, my kind father!” exclaimed Agnes. “But--to return -to the object of your visit this evening--may I express a hope that the -business which calls you to Paris is of no unpleasant nature?” - -“By no means, my love,” answered Mr. Vernon, smiling affectionately -upon his amiable daughter. “And now I must take my departure--for it -is eleven o’clock. You will remark, dear Agnes, the advice I gave you -relative to the visits of strangers; for I should be unhappy indeed, if -I thought that your artless, unsuspecting character were likely to be -the very cause of exposing you to peril.” - -“You may depend upon my prudence in future, dear father,” said Agnes; -“and I am rejoiced that you have given me such timely warning. Oh! who -could have thought that the old man who seemed so deeply affected, -and the woman who spoke so tenderly of her deceased husband, could -have harboured any sinister design? It is really enough to render one -suspicious of everything and everybody in future.” - -“No, my dear child--you must not fall into the opposite extreme,” cried -Mr. Vernon, hastily. “Because, for instance, a mendicant to whom you -give alms should turn out to be an imposter, do not argue therefrom -that all destitute persons are rogues. I do not wish distrust and -suspicion to take the place of your generous frankness and amiable -candour; but I am desirous that, while preserving the artlessness and -ingenuousness of your disposition, you should at the same time adopt -those precautions which common prudence suggests. And now, my sweet -Agnes, embrace me and then retire to your own chamber--for, ere I -depart, I have a few instructions to give to Mrs. Gifford, whom you -will please to send hither to me.” - -The beauteous maiden once more threw her arms round her father’s neck -and covered his face with her kisses and her tears: then, having -received his blessing--a blessing which he gave from the very bottom of -his heart--she reluctantly tore herself away from his arms, and quitted -the room. - -In a few minutes Mrs. Gifford, the housekeeper, made her -appearance. She was a woman of about fifty-six years of age--stout, -respectable-looking, and with a countenance in which honesty and -good-temper were alike read as plainly as the words in a book. - -On entering the parlour, she closed the door carefully behind her; -and then her demeanour suddenly became profoundly reverential as she -advanced towards the father of her young mistress. - -“Mrs. Gifford,” said he, in a tone of friendly confidence, “I am about -to visit Paris, and therefore thought it necessary to see you for a few -moments, previous to my departure. Not that I need recommend my beloved -child to your care--for I am well assured that you watch over her -safety and her happiness as zealously as if she were your own daughter.” - -“Your lordship--” began the housekeeper, in a tone of the deepest -respect. - -“Hush!” exclaimed he whom we must still call Mr. Vernon, in spite -of the aristocratic title by which Mrs. Gifford had addressed him: -“remember that walls have ears, my good friend! I was about to observe -to you that Agnes, through the amiable confidence and ingenuousness -which are natural to her, has allowed two strangers,--one a few -evenings ago--the other this very night,--to intrude themselves upon -her; and I tremble lest their motive be a bad one. The gardener and his -assistant invariably sleep in the out-house, I hope?” - -“Yes, my--I mean, sir,” answered Mrs. Gifford; “and they are resolute, -determined men, who would not permit plunderers to enter these premises -with impunity.” - -“Good!” exclaimed Mr. Vernon. “Did you yourself see the old man who -called here the other night?” - -“I did not, sir,” replied Mrs. Gifford. “But Jane assured me his -appearance was that of a man worn down with old age, wretchedness, and -poverty, rather than of an evil-intentioned person. Shall I tell your -lord--shall I tell you, sir,” said the good woman, hastily correcting -herself, “what is my impression relative to that old man? Why, sir,” -she continued, perceiving that Mr. Vernon nodded approvingly, “it -struck me that it might be that Mr. Torrens, who used to live here -many, many years ago, and of whom we heard such dreadful tales shortly -after your lord--I mean, shortly after you bought the cottage.” - -“But those tales--has Agnes learnt them?--have they reached her ears?” -demanded Mr. Vernon, hastily: “because they might terrify and alarm -her.” - -“No, sir--she is entirely ignorant of all the legends attached to this -house,” was the reply; “and it is not by any means likely that they can -reach her ears. Jane is a discreet, good girl, and would not allude to -them for worlds.” - -“Thank God!” ejaculated Mr. Vernon; “for were Agnes to learn what we -ourselves only heard after the entire purchase was concluded and you -were located here,--were she to learn, I say, that a horrible murder -had been committed in this house, I would at once procure her another -dwelling. But you were speaking ere now about the very Torrens who was -so unjustly accused of that foul crime.” - -“I was observing, sir, that I fancied the old man who called here the -other night might be he; for as Miss afterwards told me, he spoke of -having lived here many years ago, and of the terrible misfortunes -he had endured; and then he glanced round the parlour repeatedly, -observing in an audible though anguished tone, ‘_This is the very -room--this is the very room!_’ And _this_ is the room,” continued Mrs. -Gifford, “where the baronet was murdered; and therefore I conclude that -the old man was none other than the wretched Torrens.” - -“Your surmises are most natural,” said Mr. Vernon, after a few moments’ -reflection. “But who, then, was the old woman that came just now? And -yet,” he proceeded, “though I spoke of her lightly and irreverently as -_an old woman_, I am bound to admit that there was really a something -about her which gave me the idea of one who had seen better days. Her -language was especially lady-like and correct. She said she had lived -here many years ago--” - -“And yet,” interrupted Mrs. Gifford, “the cottage was shut up for -nearly eight years after the murder; and then the landlord into whose -hands it had fallen, and who was a widower, came and resided here -himself, as no one would take it. He occupied it until his death; and -then your lord--and then, I mean, you purchased it, sir, together with -the garden and orchard attached to it.” - -“And what would you infer from all these circumstances?” inquired Mr. -Vernon. - -“That if the old woman really did live here many years ago, it must -have been during Torrens’ time,” explained the housekeeper; “because he -built the cottage, and resided in it until the murder; after which, as -I just now said, it was shut up for a lengthened period. Now, strange -though it may seem, an idea has likewise struck me relative to the old -woman--or old lady--” - -“And what is your idea!” asked Mr. Vernon. - -“That she is that Mrs. Slingsby--or Mrs. Torrens, who got into -trouble at the same time as the husband she had just married. If my -conjectures are correct, sir, I do not think that you have any cause -for apprehension in the two visits which have been paid to the cottage.” - -“I congratulate you upon the shrewdness which you have displayed -in dealing with the subject,” said Mr. Vernon, smiling; “and I am -inclined to adopt the views which your sagacity suggests. Perhaps, -then, there is really nothing to fear: but, of course, Mrs. Gifford, -you will exercise the utmost prudence and the most unwearying vigilance -in regard to my darling child. You know how dear she is to me--you -are also acquainted with the unhappy circumstances which force me -to condemn her to this seclusion until she shall have attained her -twenty-first year--unless,” he added, in a more measured tone, “death -shall in the meantime snatch away that woman whom I cannot call my----” - -“My lord! my lord!” exclaimed the housekeeper, in an imploring voice; -“give not way to recollections which always excite you so painfully! -With me your charming Agnes is safe--and you are well aware that I love -her as much as if she were my own child! Besides, the deep--the many -debts of gratitude which I owe to your lordship----” - -“Hush! hush!” interrupted Mr. Vernon; “for again I tell you that the -very walls have ears--and I would not that my rank should be even -suspected----” - -“Pardon me--I forgot your oft-repeated injunctions on that head,” -said Mrs. Gifford. “But you must not suppose that because I am thus -sometimes oblivious in your presence, I ever allow a single word to -slip from my tongue that may create a suspicion in the mind of Miss -Agnes or Jane.” - -“And now, Mrs. Gifford,” observed Mr. Vernon, “I have one more question -to ask you:--has that young gentleman who once dared to ask Jane to -deliver a note to my daughter--has he ventured into this neighbourhood -since?” - -“I must confess, sir,” was the answer, “that I have seen him loitering -about the cottage on one or two occasions: but as he never seeks to -obtrude himself upon the notice of Miss Agnes, I have not thought it -worth while, nor even prudent, to suggest to the dear young lady what -course she ought to pursue in case he should address her. Besides, he -appears to be a gentleman in every sense of the word; and I do not -apprehend any rudeness on his part towards your daughter. Indeed, he -appeared much humiliated and very penitent when Jane so resolutely -refused to become the bearer of his missive or to receive his bribe.” - -“You have acted with prudence: it would be unwise to make any -observation to Agnes relative to this stranger, under present -circumstances,” said Mr. Vernon. “Were you to speak to her on the -subject, you must necessarily explain the nature of that sentiment -which has attracted the young gentleman to this neighbourhood--and -to talk to her relative to the passion of love, were to destroy some -portion of that artless innocence--that infantine purity of soul, which -characterises her. In a word, I trust my dear child to your care and -discretion, Mrs. Gifford;--and I shall expect that you will write to me -at least once a week during my absence.” - -Mr. Vernon then wrote upon a slip of paper the address where letters -would reach him in Paris; and, having next placed a roll of bank notes -in Mrs. Gifford’s hands for the expenses of the little establishment -until his return, he took his departure. - - -[Illustration] - - - - -CHAPTER CLXII. - -LAURA IN PARIS. - - -We must now return for a short time to the beautiful, but licentious -and profligate Laura, whom we left in Paris. - -Although she reckoned materially upon her mother’s aid in respect to -her new designs, she nevertheless resolved to enjoy herself during -the old woman’s absence; and the thought even struck her that it was -possible--though not very probable--for her to form some brilliant -connexion without the assistance of her parent. At all events, she -reasoned that there was no harm in making the trial; and therefore, -the moment Mrs. Mortimer had taken her departure for England, Laura -commenced her preparations for pleasure, and perhaps for intrigue. - -She hired a private box at each of the principal theatres, and -purchased a handsome carriage and a pair of beautiful horses; and then -she engaged a celebrated artist to paint her portrait, well knowing -that his _studio_ was frequented by men of rank and fortune, and -calculating that a view of the splendid countenance on the canvass -would inspire the liveliest curiosity to behold the living original. -She likewise secured the services of an eminent musician to give her -lessons in the divine art; and this gentleman, believing her to be -highly respectable, introduced her to his wife, and invited her to a -musical soirée, where her beauty and the report which had been spread -to the effect that she was an heiress who had just succeeded to her -property, rendered her the centre of attraction. - -By the means just enumerated, Laura gained one grand object--an -entrance into respectable society; and this difficult point was -accomplished in less than four days after her mother’s departure from -Paris. - -She soon began to be talked about--but not with suspicion. No--it was -her transcendent beauty that became the theme of discourse; and the -admiration with which she had inspired both the French and English -gentlemen at the soirée, rendered them so enthusiastic in her praise, -that they unconsciously suffered themselves to be hurried into -assertions guaranteeing her respectability and virtue, as well as -expatiating on her charms. - -Thus was it, for instance, that one of her French admirers would -speak:-- - -“Never in my life did I behold so beauteous a creature as Miss Laura -Mortimer, an English lady whom I met at the soirée last evening. -What a pity it is that she cannot talk French: how sweet would our -language sound when wafted by such a melodious voice! It is, however, -fortunate that I myself understand the English tongue, or I should -have been debarred the pleasure of exchanging a syllable with that -houri. Houri! Mahommed never dreamt of such a glorious creature! Her -hair is of the richest brown that I ever saw--glossy, luxuriant, and -shining: her forehead is of a height and width deserving to sustain a -queenly diadem; and her eyes, large and brilliant, are of a dark grey -when looked into attentively, but seem to be of a deeper hue to the -casual observer. Then her teeth--never were beheld such pearls! But -her form--her figure--oh, it were impossible to find words to describe -the charms of that magnificent shape! A critic, having the ancient -models of classic female beauty in his mind, would perhaps pronounce -her bust to be in proportions too voluptuous: but let him contemplate -that graceful slope of the shoulders--the arching of the swan-like -neck--the fine expansion of the chest--the perfect roundness of the -bosom--the just symmetry of the waist--and the dazzling whiteness of -the charms revealed by the low corsage of the evening toilette,--let -the admirer of ancient models behold all this, and he will soon confess -that he would have nothing changed in the contours of Laura Mortimer’s -figure. Oh! she was indeed heavenly in her elegant, but tasteful -attire; and the lustre of her eyes outvied the brilliancy of her -diamonds. But, in addition to her faultless beauty there is about her -an air of virgin freshness that indicates a mind pure and untainted; -though, at the same time, it is easy to perceive that Laura Mortimer -is no inexperienced girl. She is, on the contrary, a young woman of -fine intellect, proud soul, and independent spirit,--energetic, without -being masculine,--firm, yet endowed with all the natural softness -of her sex. That her passions are strong and her disposition even -sensual, you may read in her eyes and in the lineaments of her aquiline -countenance;--but that an honest pride enables her to put a curb upon -her ardent imagination, is equally certain. Happy will be the man who -shall win so inestimable a prize!” - -“I understand,” another enthusiastic admirer would observe, “that she -is possessed of a fine property. Her deceased father, I am told, was a -wealthy nabob; and she expects her mother shortly to join her in Paris. -The old lady has gone to England to make certain transfers from the -British to the French funds, in behalf of her daughter. Miss Mortimer -is decidedly the most charming creature that ever burst thus suddenly -upon the dazzled sight of the fashionable world in Paris. Oh! how I -envy the professor of music who gives her lessons, and the artist who -is painting her portrait! Never could I grow weary of contemplating -that splendid countenance, or of listening to that voice so full of -melody!” - -In a word, within a very few days from the time when she took the -handsome suite of apartments in the Rue Monthabor, Laura became the -topic of conversation amongst all the nobles and gentlemen, French or -foreign, in the fashionable quarters of Paris; and those who heard -the praises so lavishly bestowed upon her by the envied few that had -already formed her acquaintance, longed to be presented to this goddess -of beauty! - -One danger she incurred--and of this she was sensible: it consisted -in the fact that the persons belonging to the hotel where she and -Charles Hatfield had at first put up, and likewise the British chaplain -and his clerk, were aware that she was married! But she calculated -that the chances of detection or exposure at their hands were very -insignificant and scarcely worth a thought: for even though any of the -parties alluded to should meet and recognise her, they would believe -themselves to be mistaken in respect to the identity of Laura Mortimer -with Perdita Hatfield. Besides, Paris was a very large city; and months -might elapse before such a meeting or recognition took place; and in -the meantime she hoped to have so successfully conducted her intrigues -as to be able to return to England in complete independence of her -convention with Mr. Hatfield. - -It was on the sixth morning after Laura had taken up her abode in the -Rue Monthabor that she saw a paragraph in _Galignani’s Messenger_, -the English journal published in Paris, announcing that His Sovereign -Highness the Grand Duke of Castelcicala, who had just succeeded to that -lofty rank in consequence of his father-in-law’s demise, had arrived -on the preceding evening in the French capital, on his way to Italy. -The article, in the usual fulsome manner, stated that his Sovereign -Highness intended to remain one day in Paris, in order to have a -private interview with the King of the French; and the journalist -proceeded to give a list of the noblemen and gentlemen composing -the suite of the Grand Duke. In that category there was one English -name;--and that name was CHARLES HATFIELD! - -“Charles Hatfield!” exclaimed Laura, in astonishment, and scarcely -able to believe the evidence of her own eyes; but a second reference -to the paragraph assured her that she had indeed made no mistake. “Ah! -I comprehend,” she murmured to herself, as she laid the paper upon the -breakfast table, at which she was seated; “this is the course that his -stern father has adopted in order to throw him amidst new scenes, and -remove him afar from the meridian of London as well as from that of -Paris! He is to be sent into a species of ostracism in Italy, until he -shall have been weaned from the lingering affection he entertains for -_me_!” - -Thus reasoning within herself, Laura rose from the sofa whereon she had -been reclining, and approached a mirror, on whose bright and polished -surface she beheld the glorious reflection of her countenance,--that -countenance which was now radiant with the triumph that filled her soul. - -“Yes,” she murmured to herself, as she still continued to survey her -image in the glass,--“his father is afraid that he will yet fly back -to my arms--afraid that the magic of my beauty may once more draw him -within the sphere of its influence!” - -As these thoughts passed through her brain, her soul was filled with an -ineffable exultation;--for she marked the flashing of her fine eyes, -and the dazzling brilliancy of the teeth that appeared like pearls -set between two rubies,--marked also the glow of rich carnation on -her cheeks, in such striking contrast to the alabaster shoulders and -swelling bosom whiter than Parian marble, and which, according to a -habit produced by the natural voluptuousness of her temperament, were -purposely left more than half exposed even when she was alone,--all -those beauties--her own transcendent beauties--she beheld reflected in -the faithful mirror; and never was woman more profoundly conscious of -the sovereign power which perfect loveliness exercises over the heart -of man, than was Laura Mortimer on this occasion. - -The reader has already seen enough of this young woman to be well aware -that she was a most extraordinary character; and, though her conduct -would in another often warrant the belief that she was made up of -_contradictions_, yet with her those very deeds or thoughts that might -seem to deserve such a name, were in reality in perfect keeping with a -disposition to the reading of whose depths and intricacies the key of -no ordinary experience of the female heart would serve. - -Thus was it that a wild--a strange--and a daring scheme rose up in her -mind, as, surveying her peerless charms in the polished mirror, she -repeated to herself, “Charles Hatfield is in Paris! He will be in the -capital for twenty-four hours; and in twenty-four hours so much may be -done! May I not take the first step in my meditated vengeance--a small -step, it is true,--and yet a commencement! Yes--at the same time I may -prove the irresistible power of my beauty, and wring his recreant heart -with a jealousy--a jealousy so keen, so acute, so galling that he shall -writhe in agony of spirit, and yet dare not utter a word! All this I -can do, and still not violate my compact with his father. For how run -the conditions? _Never to molest the young man in any way--never to -return to England, but to fix my abode in some continental State--and -never to reveal the fact of our marriage!_ Not one of those conditions -shall I break by the plan which now engages my attention. For if we -happen to meet in the same room, or at the same public resort, it -cannot be said that I molest him. No:--and now for the execution of my -project--a project that, in its carrying out, will excite in his breast -the tortures of hell!” - -And the beauteous mouth was wreathed into a smile of malignant--almost -fiend-like triumph, as those last words came hissing between her pearly -teeth--not borne upon a voice melodious as a silver bell, but in a tone -so changed for a few moments, that had she spoken in the dark, with her -own mother or Charles Hatfield present, but able only to _hear_ and not -to _see_, that voice would not have been recognised by them! - -Rosalie, the adept and intriguing lady’s-maid, was now summoned to hold -a conference with her mistress. - -“It is my intention to appear in the Champs Elysées this afternoon, -attired in the most becoming manner,” said Laura. “The day is -gloriously fine, and the carriage will be open. I wish you to exercise -all your judgment and your best taste in the superintendence of my -toilette. Let me have no gaudy colours--nothing savouring of splendour. -Chaste elegance must characterise my costume: in a word, Rosalie, let -my beauty be enhanced by my apparel, without appearing to be in any way -indebted to artificial means.” - -“I understand you, _mademoiselle_,” said Rosalie; “and you may depend -upon me.” - -“But now I wish to appeal to your ingenuity, my dear girl,” proceeded -Laura,--“having thus recommended myself to your good taste. Listen -attentively! The Grand Duke of Castelcicala is in Paris; and his stay -is limited to a few hours. Charles Hatfield,” she continued, sinking -her voice almost to a whisper, as if the very walls had ears, “is in -his suite; and I am desirous that _he_--Charles Hatfield--accompanied -by three or four other gentlemen in the Duke’s service, should be -allured by some means to the Champs Elysées this afternoon.” - -“You wish that Mr. Charles and his companions may appear, either on -foot or horseback, in the fashionable lounge at the time when you -yourself will be there?” said Rosalie, interrogatively. - -“You have expressed my desire with accuracy,” observed Laura. -“Does your imagination suggest any plan by which this aim can be -accomplished?” - -Rosalie reflected profoundly for upwards of a minute: then, suddenly -turning towards her mistress, she said, “Can you tell me the names of -any of the nobles or gentlemen in the Duke’s suite, besides Mr. Charles -Hatfield?” - -Laura immediately directed Rosalie’s attention to the paragraph in the -_Messenger_; and the cunning lady’s-maid, having perused it, exclaimed, -“Will you leave this matter entirely in my hands, _mademoiselle_?” - -“I will,” answered Laura. “But, whatever be your plan, remember that -you must not compromise me. All I demand or require is that Charles -Hatfield, accompanied by three or four of his comrades in the Duke’s -service, shall visit the Champs Elysées this afternoon. The rest -concerns me.” - -“I understand you, _mademoiselle_,” said Rosalie: “you may trust -entirely to my discretion, without entertaining the least dread of -being in any way compromised.” - -The abigail then retired, and Laura was left alone to meditate upon the -scheme she had thus set on foot. - -How her dependant proposed to act, in order to accomplish that part of -the design which had been entrusted to her, Laura could not conceive: -nor indeed did she give herself much trouble to conjecture. She placed -full reliance upon the tact, discretion, and ability of Rosalie; and -regarded success as certain. - -In order to while away the time, she turned to her writing-table, and -examined a packet which her music-master had left with her on the -previous evening. The enclosure consisted of English translations of -several of the most popular French songs and national airs; and Laura -set herself deliberately to the study of these pieces, well aware that -an acquaintance with their tendency and spirit would prove of advantage -to her in conversation. - -The first manuscript to which she thus earnestly addressed herself, was -a free version of that soul-stirring hymn, _La Marseillaise_:-- - - -LA MARSEILLAISE. - - Sons of heroes, famed in story, - Onward march to death or glory! - For see, the foemen’s standard waves - O’er fields that soon must be their graves! - Hear ye the clashing of their arms-- - Their shouts portending dire alarms? - Eager for slaughter, on they press - To make your children fatherless. - Then let each warrior grasp the gleaming brand, - And shed th’ invaders’ blood to fertilise the land! - - Wherefore to our peaceful coast - Rush those sanguinary hosts? - For whom have they prepared the chains - Which now they drag o’er verdant plains?-- - Children of France, to us they come-- - Those chains are forged to stamp our doom! - Just Heaven, that such disgrace should fall - Upon the free-born sons of Gaul! - Then let each warrior grasp the gleaming brand, - And shed th’ invaders’ blood to fertilize the land! - - What! shall we, afraid of war, - Take from tyrant hands the law? - What! shall a foreign cohort’s pride - Intimidate our warriors tried? - Great God! our necks can never be - Subject to despots’ tyranny: - Nor shall th’ invaders of the State - Decide upon its people’s fate! - Then let each warrior grasp the gleaming brand, - And shed th’ invaders’ blood to fertilize the land! - - Tremble! chiefs, perfidious all-- - On your heads our curses fall! - Tremble! your projects, soon made vain, - Their merited return will gain;-- - For France has armed her serried bands, - And placed her safety in their hands: - So that if hundreds fall to day, - To-morrow thousands join th’ array. - Then let each warrior grasp the vengeful brand, - And shed th’ invaders’ blood to fertilize the land! - - In the darkling battle’s strife, - Soldier! spare your victim’s life, - When, armed against you in the field, - Feeble and weak, he cries--“I yield!” - _Him_ may’st thou spare: but to the grave - Shalt thou pursue the chief who gave - Such dire example to the rest - That tear for food their mother’s breast!-- - Then let each warrior grasp the vengeful brand, - And shed th’ invaders’ blood to fertilize the land! - - Sacred fervour--patriot flame, - Urge us on to deeds of fame! - Freedom! assist the deadly blow - That we direct against the foe: - Conquest! may we to war be led, - Thy banners amply o’er us spread;-- - And may the tyrant hosts retreat, - Or beg for mercy at our feet! - Then let each warrior grasp the gleaming brand, - And shed th’ invaders’ blood to fertilize the land! - -The next manuscript which Laura studied on this occasion contained a -translation of Casimir Delavigne’s celebrated national air, written -after the Revolution of 1830:-- - - -LA PARISIENNE. - - Gallant nation, now before you - Freedom, beckoning onward, stands: - Let no tyrant’s sway be o’er you-- - Wrest the sceptre from his hands! - Paris gave the general cry, - “Glory, Fame, and Liberty!” - Speed, warriors, speed, - Though thousands bleed, - Pierced by the leaden ball, or crushed by thundering steed:-- - Conquest waits--your foemen die! - - Keep your serried ranks in order: - Sons of France, your country calls! - Gory hecatombs award her-- - Well she merits each who falls. - Happy day! the general cry - Echoed “Fame and Liberty!” - Speed, warriors, speed, - Though thousands bleed, - Pierced by the leaden ball, or crushed by thundering steed:-- - Conquest waits--your foemen die! - - Vain the shot may sweep along you, - Banks of warriors now arrayed: - Youthful generals are among you, - By the great occasion made! - Happy day! the fervent cry - Echoed “Fame and Liberty!” - Speed, warriors, speed, - Though thousands bleed, - Pierced by the leaden ball, or crushed by thundering steed:-- - Conquest waits--your foemen die! - - Foremost, who the Carlist lances - With the banner-staff has met?-- - Freedom’s votary advances-- - Venerable Lafayette! - Happy day! the fervent cry - Echoed “Fame and Liberty!” - Speed, warriors, speed, - Though thousands bleed, - Pierced by the leaden ball, or crushed by thundering steed:-- - Conquest waits--your foemen die! - - Triple dyes again combining, - See the squadrons onward go: - In the country’s heaven shining, - Mark the bold tri-coloured bow! - Happy day! the general cry - Echoed “Fame and Liberty!” - Speed, warriors, speed, - Though thousands bleed, - Pierced by the leaden ball, or crushed by thundering steed:-- - Conquest waits--your foemen die! - - Heroes of that banner gleaming, - Ye who bore it in the fray-- - Orleans’ troops! your blood was streaming - Freely on that fatal day! - From the page of history - We have learnt the general cry. - Speed, warriors, speed, - Though thousands bleed, - Pierced by the leaden ball, or crushed by thundering steed:-- - Conquest waits--your foemen die! - - Muffled drum, thy music lonely - Answers to the mourners’ sighs: - Laurels, for the valiant only, - Ornament their obsequies! - Sacred fane of Liberty, - Let their memories never die! - Bear to his grave - Each warrior brave, - Who fell in Freedom’s cause, his country’s rights to save, - Crowned with fame and victory! - -There was one more translation from the French in the packet which -had been placed at Laura’s disposal: and this was a portion of Victor -Hugo’s celebrated - - -ODE, - -WRITTEN AFTER THE REVOLUTION OF 1830. - - O friends of your country, immortal in story, - Adorned with the laurels ye won in the fight;-- - When thousands around you fell covered with glory, - Ye turned not away from the enemy’s might; - But ye raised up your banners, all tattered and torn, - Like those which your sires had at Austerlitz borne! - - Ye have rivalled those sires--ye have conquered for France: - The rights of the people from tyrants are saved:-- - Ye beckoned to Freedom--ye saw her advance-- - And danger was laughed at, and peril was braved. - Then, if they were admired who destroyed the Bastille, - What for you should not France in her gratitude feel? - - Ye are worthy your fathers--your souls are the same-- - Ye add to their glory, their pride, and renown;-- - Your arms are well nerved--ye are noted by Fame, - That the laurel and oak may unite for your crown! - Your mother--’tis France! who for ever will be - The mother of heroes--the great--and the free! - - E’en England the jealous, and Greece the poetic-- - All Europe admired,--and the great Western World - Arose to applaud with a heart sympathetic, - When it marked the French banners of freedom unfurled. - Three days were sufficient to shake off the chain, - And ye proved yourselves friends to your country again! - - ’Twas for you that your ancestors traced round the earth - The circle of conquest, triumphant and glorious, - Which, extending to Cairo, from France took its birth, - And proceeded through slaughter, but ever victorious:-- - ’Twas for you they encountered the Muscovite snows, - Or in Italy plucked for their trophies the rose! - - O offspring of heroes and children of Fame! - Applaud the achievements your sires did before you! - Extend their renown, while ye honour their name, - And fight for the banners that proudly wave o’er you. - Remember, Napoleon has oft cast his eye - Through the long serried ranks of the French chivalry! - - Thou, Herald of Jupiter--Eagle of France! - ’Tis thou that hast carried our thunders afar: - With thee for a sign did our armies advance-- - With thee as their symbol, they went to the war! - Look around thee--rejoice! for the sons of thy land - Are worthy the sires that thou erst didst command! - And France has awakened from stupor profound, - And the watch-word has raised all her champions around; - And the din of their weapons struck loud on the ear, - As it hearkened the tread of the cavalry near. - But the tyrant has marshalled his warriors in vain, - And his culverins thundered again and again;-- - For the stones that the citizens tore from the street, - Laid the cohorts of Royalty dead at their feet! - And their numbers increased--for they fought to be free, - And they poured on the foe like the waves of the sea, - While the din of the tocsin that echoed on high, - Was drowned in the fervour of Liberty’s cry! - - The tyrant has left you with sorrow and anguish, - Fair city--the glory of France and the world: - Three days have elapsed since in chains you did languish-- - You have fought--you have won--and your banners are furled! - And wise were your counsels succeeding the strife-- - For Revenge even smiled with the rest, - When Clemency bade her surrender the knife - Ere ’twas plunged in the enemy’s breast! - - The friends of the monarch with him are o’erthrown-- - ’Tis thus that a people its rights will defend; - For if Fate have determined the fall of a crown, - The schemes of the council accomplish the end. - The wretches! they deemed, in their insolent pride, - That France to their sceptre would bow; - But the Lord found them light when their balance was tried, - And reduced them to what they are now! - - And, oh! let the lesson for ever remain-- - _When we raise up a King, we are forging a chain. - When we humble our necks to a monarch, we make - A bond that we leave for our children to break_; - Since the breath of a King is the spark to the pan-- - The musket explodes, and its victim is--man! - - Now let the funeral dirge be said, - And let the priests lament the dead: - But let them come with modest vest-- - No more in tinsel splendour drest;-- - No more with ostentatious air - Need they commence a lofty prayer: - No sign of worldly pomp should be - Mingled with aught of sanctity;-- - Less welcome to the Lord on high - Is grandeur than sincerity! - - Henceforth to the priest be all splendour unknown-- - Let his cross be of wood, and his cushion of stone: - The church is his refuge--the church is his rest-- - In her arms he is safe--in her care he is blest! - For when the volcanic eruption is red, - Like the froth of the wine-press that Burgundy fed; - When the sides of Vesuvius are glowing and bright, - When Naples re-echoes with cries of affright-- - ’Tis then that the groans of the children resound, - And mothers despairingly fall to the ground-- - ’Tis then that in vain they expend to the air - The half-uttered words which are meant for a prayer; - While black lines of mist from the crater ascend, - And seem to foretell that the world’s at an end! - Those lines have divided--a lustre, that broke - From the bowels of the mount, superseded the smoke: - Then Naples, adieu to the grots in thy vales-- - Adieu to thy ships--the flame spreads to their sails; - The lava has fall’n on the sides of the hill, - As the locks of a maiden float wildly at will! - And farther--oh! farther the lava rolls on-- - O’er meadows--o’er streams--to the gulf it has gone: - The smoke forms a canopy sombre and dread, - Though the waves of the torrent be glowing and red. - And the homes of the great and the paladin’s hall - Were doomed in that deluge to totter and fall. - ’Twas a chaos of ruin! The cinders were strewed - O’er a town late so lovely--now shapeless and rude: - From dwelling to dwelling proceeded th’ assail-- - The houses ware burning in city and vale: - The earth was unsteady--the waves of the sea - Boiled white on the shore--and the tocsin rang free, - Though no human hand were the cause of the sound-- - ’Twas raised by the steeples that tottered around!-- - ’Twas a chaos immense! But the arm of the Lord, - That scattered such ruin and havoc abroad-- - The arm of the Deity, powerful to kill, - And pour out the wrath of his thunder at will-- - That arm, on the brink of the crater, can spare - The hermit who kneels to his Maker in prayer! - -By the time Laura had completed the perusal of these poems, Rosalie -reappeared: and the arch smile which the pretty lady’s-maid wore, -seemed to indicate that success had crowned the task that had been -entrusted to her. - -“What tidings have you for me?” asked Laura. - -“I think, _mademoiselle_, that you may safely reckon upon beholding -Mr. Charles Hatfield, together with two or three of his comrades in -the Grand Duke’s suite, in the Champs Elysées between four and five -o’clock. But do not wait to ask me my reasons for giving you this -assurance,” added Rosalie, hastily: “it is nearly three o’clock, -_mademoiselle_--and you must think of your toilette.” - -“Excellent Rosalie!” ejaculated Laura: “how deeply I am indebted to you -for your proceedings in my behalf!” - -Thus speaking, she repaired to her bed-chamber, whither the French -abigail followed; and then the toilette commenced. - -At about a quarter to four o’clock, Laura emerged from her private -apartment, and descended to her carriage which was waiting for her. The -equipage then moved rapidly away towards the Champs Elysées. - -Glorious was the afternoon--and queen-like in her beauty was Laura -Mortimer! - -Contrary to her usual custom, she had her hair dressed in ringlets, -which in a luxuriant shower framed her splendid countenance. There was -a flush of health, heightened by her own heart’s emotions, on either -cheek: but, by the admirable control which she was enabled to exercise -over her features, her countenance was serene, and her eyes shone not -with a lustre unmellowed by feminine softness. She reclined back in her -carriage, in a species of half-voluptuous lassitude and abandonment; -but every change of posture was characterised with an elegance of -motion that might be denominated poetic. - -The equipage and its appointments were in the best possible taste; and -the liveries of the coachman and attendant footman were plain and neat, -not glaring and obtrusive. Altogether, the “turn-out” was that which a -well-bred person, who knew the distinction between elegant simplicity -and gaudy ostentation, was likely to possess. - -The principal drive in the Champs Elysées was crowded to excess: -seldom was there seen such a quantity of carriages or such a number -of gentlemen on horseback. The foot-ways were likewise thronged with -loungers and with ladies enjoying the afternoon’s promenade. - -Laura’s carriage speedily fell into the line of vehicles proceeding -in the same direction;--and now its progress was slow. This was just -what she wished: for not only was the multitude enabled to obtain a -better view of her--but she likewise had more leisure to watch for the -appearance of _him_ whom she expected to behold amidst the gay throng. -Thus both her vanity and her convenience were successfully consulted at -the same time. - -Her patience was not put to a very lengthy nor severe test: for, -scarcely had her carriage reached the mid-way point in the splendid -avenue, when her keen glance signalled out the object of her -thoughts from amidst the loungers on foot. Yes--there indeed was -Charles Hatfield--proceeding at a short distance in advance of the -carriage, and in the same direction. The critical moment was now -almost at hand--and, though Laura’s countenance still maintained its -serenity, her heart palpitated with violence. While, too, she seemed -to be reclining back in her carriage with a graceful ease which we -might almost denominate an elegant languor,--and while she now more -completely shaded herself with her parasol,--her eyes were fixed -steadily and even intently in one direction. - -“Yes--he has two friends with him,” she said to herself: “they are -all three in plain clothes--or rather, in mourning--doubtless for the -father-in-law of their illustrious master.” - -Scarcely had these thoughts flashed through Laura’s brain, when Charles -and his two companions stopped--turned round--and gazed up and down the -avenue for a few moments: then they interchanged some observations, and -pursued their way. - -Charles had not noticed Laura;--but _she_ had caught more than a -partial glimpse of _his_ face. During the quarter of a minute that her -eyes were fixed upon him, she had as it were devoured him with that -earnest gaze. It was not love,--no---and it was not hate; but it was a -species of ravenous longing to decypher his thoughts through the medium -of his countenance. And she saw that he was pale and pensive--but also -strikingly handsome: indeed, at that moment Laura fancied his manly -beauty had never before seemed so perfect in her eyes--and it was with -difficulty that she repressed the sigh which rose almost to her lips. - -A few minutes elapsed--and still the procession of carriages moved on -in the broad straight road; and the tide of loungers on foot rolled -along the pathway. The distance between Laura and the object of her -thoughts was gradually diminishing; and almost immediately her carriage -would overtake him and his companions. Again they turned--these three -gentlemen--and looked up and down; and this time Laura rapidly scanned -Hatfield’s two friends. They were also young men of fine figure and -attractive looks: natives of Castelcicala, they had the dark Italian -complexion and the fine Italian eyes;--and as they wore moustaches, -their appearance was more military than that of Charles. But they -were not so handsome as he;--at least Laura thought so--and she was -doubtless right. - -The critical moment was now at hand: the carriage overtook Hatfield -and his Italian companions--and it was just passing them, when -Laura perceived that she was suddenly recognised by her husband. -He started--stopped short--and kept his eyes fixed upon her, as if -doubting their evidence; while his two friends, excited by his strange -manner, looked also in the same direction and at the same object; and -_their_ gaze was likewise rivetted immediately upon the beauteous woman -whose transcendent charms they naturally supposed to have produced -such an effect on their companion. With a glance keen and rapid as -lightning, Laura perceived that she was the idol of attention on the -part of her husband and his two Italian friends, though the latter -dreamt not that she was even known by name to Charles Hatfield: and -while the eyes of all three were thus intently fixed upon her, her -parasol suddenly escaped from her hand and fell within a few paces of -the young men,--unobserved by the footman standing behind the carriage. - -Of the two Castelcicalan officers, one was taller and more classically -handsome than the other: and it was he that now darted forward to -snatch up the parasol and restore it to its charming owner. So -admirably had Laura managed the dropping of the parasol, that it -had all the appearance of an accident to every one who observed the -circumstance--save Charles Hatfield: and, quickly as the powder -explodes after the match has been applied to it, did the conviction -flash to his brain that the occurrence was intentional on the part -of Laura. Al the same instant it struck him that never--never before -had she appeared so marvellously beautiful--never so transcendently -lovely as she now was,--with the flush of a gentle excitement upon her -cheeks--her hair dressed in a style that he most admired--her pearly -teeth partly revealed between the roses of her lips--her toilette so -elegant and chaste, and setting off her splendid form to its greatest -advantage--and her attitude so classically graceful, as she leant -forward to receive the parasol that the handsome Castelcicalan now -restored to her, after having carefully brushed off the dust with his -white cambric handkerchief. - -A thousand--thousand conflicting thoughts passed through the brain -of Charles Hatfield during the few seconds that had elapsed from the -escape of the parasol from her hand until its restoration by the -Italian:--he saw his wife more beautiful than ever he had conceived her -to be even when he was accustomed to worship her image--he remembered -the witchery of her ways and the melting music of her voice--the joys -he had experienced in her arms on the marriage night rushed to his -mind--and as his eyes dwelt perforce upon the rich contours of her -bust, he recollected that his head had been pillowed and his hand had -wandered voluptuously there! - -At the moment that Laura dropped her parasol, the carriage stopped, -and she affected to perceive Charles Hatfield for the first time; and -for a single instant she appeared struck by surprise and uncertain how -to act:--then, immediately afterwards, she averted her eyes from him, -and bent them on the handsome Castelcicalan who had sprung forward -to recover the parasol. She purposely composed her countenance and -modelled her behaviour, so that her husband should be left in a state -of utter uncertainty and bewilderment as to what was passing in her -mind, at least in regard to himself:--but when the Italian approached -the carriage, took off his hat, and with a low bow, presented the -parasol which he had so gallantly dusted with his cambric handkerchief, -Laura bestowed so sweet a smile and so tender a look on the handsome -foreigner, that the direst rage which jealousy can know was excited in -a moment in the breast of Charles Hatfield. - -A rapid glance--unseen even by her husband himself--made Laura -aware of the effect produced upon him by her deportment towards the -Castelcicalan; and the joy of a proud triumph filled her heart. - -“I thank you, sir,” she said in French to the Italian gentleman;--for -she had already learnt more than enough of the language to be enabled -to give utterance to that common phrase;--and, as she spoke, she again -smiled sweetly, though not in a manner which might be construed into -indelicate encouragement. - -Her husband caught the words that were addressed to the handsome -foreigner, and also marked the smile that accompanied them; and, as the -music of that voice flowed upon his ear, and the witchery of that smile -met his gaze, his countenance became absolutely livid with the emotions -that rent his soul. - -“Beautiful lady,” said the Castelcicalan, enchanted by the -condescending manner of the lovely woman, who was agreeably surprised -and much delighted to hear him address her with the utmost facility in -the English language,--“you have deigned to thank me for a thing so -trivial that I am ashamed to merit your notice upon so slight a ground. -Would that an opportunity could arise for so humble an individual as -myself to perform some deed that might deserve your approval--and win -your gratitude,” added the Italian, sinking his voice to a low tone. - -“I know not, signor,” replied Laura, satisfying herself with another -rapid glance that Charles Hatfield was still gazing with jealous -fury upon this scene,--“I know not, signor,” she said, with all the -witchery of tone and manner that she could summon to her aid, “how -I can sufficiently thank you for the courteous behaviour which you -demonstrate towards me. At the same time, I need scarcely be astonished -at such chivalrous gallantry on your part--for, if I mistake not, you -belong to that fine Italian clime which I shortly intend to visit.” - -The young Castelcicalan gazed with the enthusiasm of adoration up into -the enchanting countenance that was bending over him; and he felt as if -he could have cheerfully consented to yield up the ten last years of -his life to purchase the enjoyment of pressing his lips to the small -plump mouth which looked redder than the rose moistened with the dew of -morning. - -“Oh! is it possible,” he exclaimed, in a joyous tone, “that you purpose -to honour my native land with your presence! Be assured, lady,” he -continued, “that if you visit Montoni, the Castelcicalan capital, you -will become the object of a perfect idolatry.” - -“Then should I do well to remain in France, signor--rather than lead -your nation into such a crime,” said Laura, laughing gaily: and the -rapid glance which she darted towards her husband convinced her that -_he_ was enduring the torments of the damned--torments which were -increasing in proportion as she seemed to grow on more friendly terms -with the young Italian officer. - -“I should be wretched indeed, beauteous lady,” said he, in reply to -her last observation, “did I think that any inconsiderate remark from -my lips could deter you from carrying into effect a purpose already -settled in your mind. Neither,” he added, with a sigh, “am I vain -enough to suppose myself to be of sufficient importance to sway you in -one way or another.” - -“Nor am I vain enough to take in any sense save as a compliment the -flattering observation you made just now relative to the reception I -might expect at Montoni;”--and as Laura uttered these words, she cast -down her eyes and blushed slightly. - -The dialogue between the Castelcicalan and herself had been carried -on in a low tone, and was therefore totally inaudible to the other -Italian and Charles Hatfield, who were gazing, but with very different -feelings, on the lovely woman. Neither had the conversation occupied -one tenth part of the time which we have consumed in detailing it;--and -in the interval, the carriages originally behind that of Laura, -had passed hers by, so that the stoppage of her equipage caused no -obstruction. The tide of pedestrian loungers was likewise still flowing -on--there being nothing singular nor unusual in the fact of a gentleman -on foot paying his respects to a lady who rode in her carriage. - -But while the multitude, generally, saw naught peculiar in the scene -which we are describing, it was nevertheless one of deep interest. By -the carriage door stood the young Castelcicalan officer, his heart -throbbing with the ineffable emotions which the wondrous beauty of -Laura had excited, as it were by the wave of an enchanter’s wand;--in -the vehicle itself sate the syren--bending forward towards that -handsome foreigner as if she were already interested in him, though -in reality she experienced not the slightest sensual feeling in his -favour--other considerations occupying her thoughts:--at a little -distance stood the other Italian officer, gazing upon her with an -admiration which he could not conceal, and envying his comrade -the privilege which a lucky accident had given him to address the -houri;--and there also was Charles Hatfield--ghastly pale, his limbs -trembling convulsively, and his lips white and quivering with rage. - -Yes: terrible--terrible were the feelings which Laura’s husband -experienced for the six or eight minutes that this scene lasted. There -was a woman whose beauty excited universal admiration,--a woman in -all the splendour of female loveliness;--and this woman was _his_ -wife--his own wedded wife,--a wife whom he could rush forward and -claim in a moment, if he chose! And that woman was now coquetting -before his eyes--coquetting with a studied purpose to annoy him. Oh! he -could understand it all,--the means which had been adopted to induce -him and his two companions to proceed to the Champs Elysées at that -hour--the pretended accident of the parasol--and the smiles and tender -looks which Laura now bestowed upon one who was entirely a stranger -to her:--yes--all, all was now clear to Charles Hatfield,--and he was -on the point of springing forward--not to catch Laura to his breast -and claim her as his spouse--but to upbraid and expose her,--when he -suddenly recollected that a portion of the agreement entered into -between his father and her, was to the effect that _she_ likewise -was to be secure against molestation or recognition on _his_ part, -as well as he on hers. This reminiscence compelled the unhappy young -man to restrain his feelings; and as he was forced to subdue his ire, -his jealousy only became the more painful, because it required a vent -of some kind or another. He writhed--he positively writhed before -her eyes;--and now he was humiliated as well as tortured to such an -intolerable degree! - -Laura had cast down her looks and had called up a blush to her smooth -cheeks, when she made to the handsome Castelcicalan the remark that -we have last recorded: but almost immediately afterwards she raised -her countenance again, and smiling with an archness so enchantingly -sweet that it would have moved the rigid features of an octogenarian -anchorite to admiration, she said: “At all events, signor, should I -visit Montoni in the course of this summer, my stay would be very -short--for I purpose to become a great traveller, and to travel very -rapidly also. To-morrow I set out for Vienna.” - -“Vienna!” repeated the Castelcicalan, in astonishment. “Surely Paris -possesses greater attractions than the cold, dull, formal Austrian -capital?” - -“Oh! of that I must judge for myself,” exclaimed Laura, laughing--at -the same time showing by her manner that she thought their conversation -had lasted long enough. - -The young Italian was too well-bred to attempt to detain her: but it -was nevertheless with evident reluctance that he stepped back from the -carriage-door and raised his hat in farewell salutation. Laura inclined -her head gracefully in acknowledgment of his courtesy, and the vehicle -drove on rapidly, the way before it being now comparatively clear. - -Oh! what triumph was in her heart, as she threw herself back in the -carriage and reflected upon all the incidents of the scene that had -just occurred,--a scene which had not occupied ten minutes, and which -had nevertheless stirred up so many and such varied feelings! Her -vanity had been gratified by the homage paid to her beauty; and her -malignity had for the time been assuaged by the contemplation of the -almost mortal agonies endured by her husband. She had asserted the -empire of her charms over even the very heart that ought to cherish -hatred against her: she had inspired with the maddest jealousy the soul -that was bound to think of her with loathing and abhorrence. She felt -all the pride of a woman wielding a sceptre more despotic than that -of a queen,--a sceptre which was as a magic wand in her hand, casting -spells upon even those who detested, as well as those who admired her! - - - - -CHAPTER CLXIII. - -LAURA AND ROSALIE. - - -Yes--it was a great triumph for Laura Mortimer,--a triumph all the -greater, inasmuch as she knew that the agitation and rage of her -husband could not speedily pass away; and that, when his friends had -leisure to observe his emotions and seek an explanation, he would not -dare to afford them any! - -[Illustration] - -She had, moreover, made statements to the young Castelcicalan which -he would doubtless repeat to Charles Hatfield, whom they were well -calculated to mystify relative to her future proceedings; for the -reader scarcely requires to be told that she had not the slightest -intention to repair to Vienna nor to visit Italy. - -In every respect she had ample reason to be well satisfied with the -results of the scheme she had devised in the morning and so effectually -carried out in the afternoon,--a scheme so wild and having so many -thousand chances against its success, that none save the intrepid, -resolute, far-seeing Laura could have possibly hoped to conduct it to a -triumphant issue. - -Having proceeded to the end of the avenue, she ordered the coachman to -retrace his way and return home;--but she was not destined to reach the -Rue Monthabor without experiencing another adventure, which may for the -moment seem trivial, but which was nevertheless destined to exercise no -mean amount of influence upon her future career. - -As the carriage was emerging from the Champs Elysées, two gentlemen on -horseback, just entering the fashionable lounge, were about to pass -by, when one of them, recognising Laura, suddenly pulled up and made -her a low bow. She immediately ordered the carriage to stop; for it -was her courteous and obliging friend the professor of music, who had -thus saluted her--and she was anxious to express to him the delight she -had experienced from a perusal of the translations he had sent to her -the preceding evening. After the exchange of the usual complimentary -remarks, the professor, turning towards his companion, said, “My lord, -permit me to introduce you to one of my fair pupils--my fairest pupil, -I should rather observe,” he added, in a good-tempered manner: “Miss -Laura Mortimer--the Marquis of Delmour.” - -Laura was startled for an instant at finding her music-master in such -aristocratic society; and as she inclined gracefully in acknowledgment -of the nobleman’s courteous salutation, she observed that his lordship -was an elderly, if not actually an old man, but that his countenance -was far from disagreeable. - -A brief conversation ensued; and although the marquis had no -opportunity of speaking more than a dozen words, and even those on -common topic Laura nevertheless saw enough of him to be convinced that -his manners were of polished elegance, and that his disposition was -frank and unassuming. - -It was not therefore without emotions of secret pleasure that she heard -herself thus addressed by the professor of music:-- - -“Miss Mortimer, his lordship, and myself, are old acquaintances, and he -permits me to call him my friend. His lordship will honour my humble -abode with his presence, to-morrow, evening: there will be a musical -soirée of the same unpretending kind as that which you yourself graced -with your company the evening before last. My wife will doubtless send -you the formal card; but may I in a less ceremonial fashion, solicit -you to favour us with your presence?” - -Laura signified the pleasure she should experience in accepting the -invitation; and all the time she was listening to the professor and -replying to him, she had the agreeable consciousness that the marquis -was gazing upon her with an admiration which he could not repress. She -however affected not to be in the slightest degree aware that she was -undergoing such an impassioned survey; and when she turned towards his -lordship to make the parting bow, it was with the formal reserve and -yet graceful dignity of a lady to whom a stranger has only just been -introduced. - -The carriage rolled on in one direction--the horsemen pursued their way -in another;--and while the Marquis of Delmour was putting innumerable -questions to his friend relative to the houri whom they had thus met, -Laura was on her side resolving that Rosalie should without delay -institute all possible inquiries respecting the position, fortune, and -character of that nobleman. - -We should here remind the reader that the professor of music was a man -eminent in his special sphere, of high respectability, and great moral -worth; and, moreover, he was a native of a country where talent is -prized and looked up to, instead of being merely tolerated and looked -down upon. It is not, therefore, extraordinary if we find him moving in -the best society, and having his entertainments attended by the _elite_ -of the residents or visitors in the gay city of Paris. - -On her return home to her splendid apartments in the Rue Monthabor, -Laura was immediately waited upon by her lady’s-maid; and while the -mistress was changing her attire in preparation for dinner, the -dependant explained the means by which she had induced Charles Hatfield -and the two Italian officers in the suite of the Grand Duke to repair -to the Champs Elysées in company, and at the hour specified by Laura. - -“When you first mentioned your desire to me this morning, -_mademoiselle_,” began Rosalie, “I must confess that I was somewhat -embarrassed how to accomplish the scheme; although I did not despair. -But when I saw the paragraph in the paper, and ascertained the hotel -at which the Grand Duke and his suite had taken up their temporary -abode, I suddenly remembered that a day or two ago I met a young woman -who had formerly been my fellow-servant, and that she was now filling -a situation in that very hotel. This circumstance inspired me with a -hope of success; and we Frenchwomen look upon an intrigue as being as -good as carried successfully out, when it affords a hope to encourage -us. Therefore did I promise you so confidently; and I lost no time in -proceeding to the hotel. I soon found my friend, who is a chamber-maid -there; and I told her just sufficient--without, however, mentioning -your name or even alluding to you, _mademoiselle_--to induce her to -afford me her assistance. Some of the officers of the Grand Duke’s -suite were lounging in the court-yard of the hotel at the time; and my -friend pointed them out to me one by one, naming each as she proceeded. -I resolved to choose the two youngest and handsomest to be Mr. Charles -Hatfield’s companions, _mademoiselle_; because,” continued Rosalie, -with an arch smile, “I tolerably well understood the entire nature of -the project which you had in contemplation.” - -“You are marvellously sharp-witted and keen-sighted, Rosalie,” said -Laura, laughing good-humouredly. “But pray proceed. What step did you -adopt next, after having thus passed the Grand Duke’s suite in a review -of which they were however unconscious?” - -“I must confess, _mademoiselle_,” resumed Rosalie, “that I was somewhat -puzzled how to act. But suddenly an idea struck me; and, however -ridiculous the plan may now appear to you, your own lips can proclaim -whether it succeeded or not. In fact, I calculated upon the romantic -disposition which the Italians are known to possess; and I also -reflected that as Mr. Charles Hatfield, whom I likewise saw at the -hotel (though he saw not me) appeared pensive and thoughtful, he would -embark in any adventure that promised to wean his thoughts from their -melancholy mood, and that offered some excitement of a novel character. -I accordingly penned a note, addressed to Mr. Charles Hatfield, Captain -Barthelma, and Lieutenant Di Ponta----” - -“What is the name of the taller and handsomer of the two officers who -accompanied Charles?” asked Laura, with a slight kindling of sensual -feeling as she recalled to mind the pleasing features of the Italian -who had picked up her parasol, and with whom she had exchanged the few -complimentary observations already recorded. - -“That one is Captain Barthelma,” answered Rosalie. - -“Proceed,” said Laura. “You were telling me that you penned a note----” - -“To the three gentlemen collectively,” added the lady’s-maid;--“and, -as nearly as I can remember, the contents ran thus:--‘To Mr. Charles -Hatfield, Captain Barthelma, and Lieutenant Di Ponta, an unhappy -Spanish refugee ventures to address himself, having certain excellent -reasons for being well aware that they will not refuse to listen to -his sad tale, and interest themselves in his behalf. But as he is -an object of suspicion to the French government, he dares not make -his appearance at the hotel where a prince, who is known to be the -redresser of wrongs, has taken up his abode. He will therefore walk -this afternoon, from four to five, on the right hand of the central -avenue of the Champs Elysées; and if the three gentlemen to whom he now -addresses his humble but earnest application, will be at the place and -time appointed, the unhappy writer of this petition will make himself -known to them--will explain his business frankly--and will indicate the -means by which he can be restored to wealth and happiness. Those means -consist in one word which it will be for His Sovereign Highness the -Grand Duke to speak, and which can only be spoken at the instigation -of the three gentlemen to whom this letter is addressed.’” - -“Upon my word, I give you credit for your stratagem!” exclaimed Laura, -laughing heartily. “I have no doubt that Charles sees through it _now_: -but he will not dare to give any explanations to his friends,” she -added, in a musing tone. “They will imagine that they have been duped -by some humorous person--and he will affect to fall into the same way -of thinking.” - -“Or else the two Italian gentlemen will suppose that the poor refugee -was prevented, by some misadventure, from keeping the appointment,” -observed Rosalie, now giving way to her mirth to such a degree that the -tears came into her eyes. - -“Well--make an end of your story,” said Laura, who had nearly completed -her toilette; for, although she expected no one that evening, she -nevertheless made it a rule to dress herself with the utmost care in -case of a visit on the part of any of those persons whose acquaintance -she had recently formed. - -“I have little more to tell you, _mademoiselle_, responded Rosalie. -“My friend, the chambermaid, left the note, which was duly sealed and -properly addressed to the three gentlemen, upon the table of Captain -Barthelma’s private apartment; and soon afterwards that officer -went to his room. I waited at the hotel in the hope of ascertaining -the effect that the _billet_ would produce; and in a short time the -captain returned in haste to his companions, who were still lounging -in the court-yard--some of them giving directions to their grooms, -and others smoking cigars. From the window of my friend’s chamber, I -beheld Captain Barthelma draw Mr. Charles Hatfield and Lieutenant Di -Ponta aside, and show them the letter. They evidently perused it with -great attention; and I felt assured by their manner that they treated -the affair seriously. I now requested my friend to hurry down stairs, -and traverse the yard as if in pursuance of her avocations--but to -pass as near the little group as possible, and endeavour to catch any -remarks that they might be exchanging at the moment. This she did; and -she heard quite enough to convince her that the appointment would be -kept. I then retraced my way homeward, and was happy in being able to -give you the assurance, _mademoiselle_, that your wishes would be fully -gratified so far as the result depended upon me.” - -“You are a good girl, Rosalie,” said Laura; “and I shall not be -unmindful of the service you have thus rendered me. But I now require -your aid in another matter----” - -“Speak, my dear lady: I am entirely at your disposal,” observed the -dependant, who, in proportion as she obtained a farther insight into -the character of her mistress, felt the more certain of reaping a fine -harvest of rewards, bribes, and hush-money. - -“There is in Paris at this moment an English nobleman concerning -whom I am desirous that you should obtain as much information as -you can possibly glean, without creating any suspicion or in any -way compromising me. I allude to the Marquis of Delmour,” continued -Laura: “but I know not where he is residing; nor can I offer the least -suggestion to guide you in instituting your inquiries.” - -“Leave all that to me, _mademoiselle_,” said Rosalie. - -“There is no time to be lost,” observed Laura, “this evening, or in the -course of to-morrow, must I have the information which I seek.” - -“I am not in the habit of letting the grass grow beneath my feet,” -replied the French dependant, with an arch smile. “The moment you have -sat down to dinner, _mademoiselle_, I will sally forth; and should I -not return until a somewhat late hour----” - -“No matter,” interrupted Laura: “I shall know that you are employed -in my interests. Unless, indeed,” she added, laughing, “you possess a -lover whose company may prove more agreeable to you than the task with -which I have entrusted you.” - -“I have no lover in Paris--at present, _mademoiselle_,” observed -Rosalie. - -“Then you admit that you have had a lover in your life-time?” said -Laura. - -“Oh! certainly, _mademoiselle_,” exclaimed the pretty Frenchwoman: -“and--to speak candidly--I could not without some trouble reckon the -number of those who have proclaimed themselves my admirers.” - -“The name of your lovers is Legion, then?” cried Laura, again laughing: -but it was the natural sensuality of her disposition which impelled her -thus to interrogate her servant;--for a licentious woman experiences a -voluptuous enjoyment in learning that another is as amorously inclined -or as downright abandoned as herself. And now that Laura’s spite -against Charles Hatfield was for the time appeased, and she had leisure -to ponder upon the handsome countenance and elegant figure of Captain -Barthelma, her imagination was becoming inflamed, and wanton ideas and -aspirations rose up in her brain. - -“Oh! _mademoiselle_,” exclaimed Rosalie, with an archness of expression -that made her countenance particularly interesting at the moment; “you -must think me very vain and very silly for having made the remark which -fell so inconsiderately from my lips!” - -“Not at all,” observed Laura: “you are pretty enough to have captivated -many hearts. And now tell me, my dear girl--have you passed through -such an ordeal without leaving your virtue behind? Be frank and candid: -I wish to know you thoroughly, that I may determine how far I can trust -you.” - -“I dare say, _mademoiselle_, that you can form a tolerably accurate -guess in that respect,” said Rosalie, in a low tone and with a blushing -countenance. “Were I to tell you that I am pure and chaste, you would -not believe me, _mademoiselle_--and--and, you would be right.” - -“Suppose, then, that you had suddenly conceived a great fancy for -a very handsome young man, Rosalie?” said Laura, her bosom heaving -voluptuously as she gradually approached the aim and object of the -present conversation. - -“I should take care to let him perceive that if he chose to solicit, -it would not be in vain,” answered Rosalie, who already comprehended -that her mistress was not giving the discourse this turn without some -definite end in view. - -“And you would be deeply grateful,” continued Laura, in a low but -significant tone, “to any friend who might assist you in the management -of the intrigue?” - -“Decidedly, _mademoiselle_” replied the Frenchwoman: “the more so -that I myself should delight in rendering _my_ aid when and where the -services of so humble a being as I am could prove available.” - -“Those services may be made available this very evening,” said Laura, -a voluptuous glow spreading over her fine countenance, while her eyes -became soft and melting in expression. “You must aid me, Rosalie, in -gratifying an ardent longing which has sprung up within my bosom during -the last few minutes, and which I may vainly struggle to subdue. But -the intrigue requires so much delicate management----” - -“I can anticipate all you would say, _mademoiselle_,” interrupted -Rosalie: then, in a significant tone, she added, “Captain Barthelma is -decidedly one of the handsomest men I ever saw in my life.” - -“You have conjectured rightly,” said Laura; “you have penetrated my -thoughts! Can you--will you serve me in the gratification of this -caprice of mine? But, remember--I must not be compromised in respect to -a living soul save Barthelma and yourself.” - -“You know, _mademoiselle_, that you can trust to my fidelity, my -sagacity, and my prudence,” said Rosalie. “At what hour shall the -handsome Italian visit you?” - -“At nine--this evening,” answered Laura: then referring to her watch, -she added, “It is already six--and you have plenty of work upon your -hands!” - -“I will neglect nothing,” observed the lady’s-maid, in a tone of -confidence. “Would it not be prudent to send the cook out of the way -for the evening? For as the men-servants are on board-wages and sleep -elsewhere, and the cook is therefore the only dependant who could -possibly observe your proceedings, _mademoiselle_----” - -“I leave all this to you, Rosalie,” interrupted Laura;--“and now we -have nothing more to say to each other for the present. Order the -dinner to be served up at once--and then must you hasten to fulfil the -commissions with which you are charged.” - -Having thus given her parting instructions, Laura repaired to the -dining-room, where an elegant repast was speedily spread upon the -table; and a glass of sparkling champagne soon enhanced the brilliancy -of the voluptuous woman’s eyes, and heightened the rich glow that -suffused her countenance. - -When the meal was over, a choice dessert was served up; and Laura was -now left alone. - -She was almost sorry that she had gone so far in respect to the -intrigue which was to bring the handsome Castelcicalan to her arms: she -had admitted Rosalie too deeply into her confidence--placed herself too -completely in the power of her dependant. Even while she was conversing -with the wily Frenchwoman, she perceived and felt all this;--but her -sensuality triumphed over her prudence--her lascivious temperament -carried her on with a force which she could not resist, much less -subdue. - -“And, after all,” she now reasoned to herself, “wherefore should I not -follow my inclinations in this respect? I am free to act according to -the impulse of my passions and the prompting of my desires. The night -that I passed with Charles--that one night of love and bliss--has -revived those ardent longings, those burning thoughts that demand -gratification. Besides, Rosalie will be trustworthy so long as she is -well paid; and I shall take care to keep her purse well filled. Sooner -or later she must have obtained a complete insight into my character: -why not, then, at once as well as hereafter? And the more firmly I bind -her to my interests, the less shall I need the services of my crafty, -selfish old mother. Would that I could manage my affairs and execute -my plans without my parent’s aid altogether! And who knows but that -even this consummation may be reached? Something tells me that the -Marquis of Delmour and I shall yet be more intimately acquainted. He -is old--but that is of little consequence. Wealth and a proud position -are my aims--and I care not by what means they are acquired. Oh! the -happiness of possessing such beauty as that wherewith I am endowed,--a -beauty which can never fail to crown me with triumph in all my -schemes!--in all my projects!” - -She now regarded her watch, and discovered that it was eight o’clock. - -“In another hour he will be here,” she thought within herself; and her -bosom heaved voluptuously. “Yes--in another hour that handsome Italian -will be in my presence--at least, if Rosalie fulfil her task with her -wonted sagacity and prudence. What will he think of me? Oh! let him -entertain any opinion that he may: I will bind him to secrecy by the -most solemn oaths--and I read enough in his countenance to convince me -that he is a man of honour!” - -In this strain did the lovely but wanton creature pursue her -reflections, until it was nearly nine o’clock. - -She then rose from her seat, and repaired to the kitchen, which was on -the same floor as her suite of apartments. The cook was not there; and -Laura was consequently satisfied that Rosalie had not forgotten the -precaution herself had suggested. - -The syren now proceeded to the drawing-room, where with her own fair -hands she arranged wine, fruits, and cakes upon the table. She then -drew the curtains over the window, lighted the wax candles upon the -mantel, and scattered drops of delicious perfume upon the carpet and -the drapery. - -Scarcely were these preparations completed, when the bell of the outer -door of the suite rang as if pulled by a somewhat impatient hand; and -Laura hastened to answer the summons. - -She opened the door--and Captain Barthelma, the handsome Castelcicalan, -appeared upon the threshold. - -“Is it possible that this can be true!” he exclaimed, his joy amounting -to a delirious excitement as his eyes fell upon the heroine of the -afternoon’s adventure in the Champs Elysées. - -Laura smiled archly as she placed her finger upon her lip to impose -silence, at least until he should have entered her abode; and, having -closed the door carefully, she conducted him into the drawing-room. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXIV. - -LAURA’S AMOUR. - - -Seating herself upon the sofa, Laura motioned the Italian to place -himself by her side--an invitation which he obeyed with a species of -enthusiastic alacrity. But all the time he was unable to take his eyes -off her--as if he still doubted whether it were indeed a fact that his -good fortune had conducted him into the presence of her whose image had -never once been absent from his mind since he first beheld her that -afternoon in the Champs Elysées. - -“Is it possible?” he again ejaculated, after a few minutes’ silence. -“The young woman promised me that if I were discreet, I might expect -the happiness of meeting you--yes, _you_, sweetest lady--again: but I -confess that I doubted her--and I came that I might not throw away a -chance of felicity, rather than in the sanguine hope of attaining it.” - -“And, when you have leisure for reflection” said Laura, casting down -her eyes and blushing, “you will despise me for my imprudence--my -indelicacy of conduct in thus sending to invite a stranger to visit me.” - -“Adorable woman!” exclaimed the impassioned Italian; “I shall think of -you with gratitude--with devotion--with love,--and never lightly. Oh! -be assured of _that_!”--and, seizing her hand, he conveyed it to his -lips, and covered it with kisses. - -“Nevertheless, you must be surprised at my boldness in directing my -servant to seek you, and to make this appointment with you,” pursued -Laura, her bosom heaving so as almost to burst from its confinement, as -she felt the warm mouth of the Castelcicalan glued to the hand which -she did not attempt to withdraw. - -“I am only surprised at my own happiness,” observed the young officer. -“Sweetest Laura--for I now know your name--tell me how I have thus -been deemed worthy of a favour of which a prince might envy me the -enjoyment!” - -“An accident threw us together for a few minutes this afternoon,” -said Laura; “and I was struck by your personal appearance--your -manners--your conversation----” - -“And, oh! how profoundly was I impressed by the magic of your beauty, -Laura!” interrupted the ardent Italian; “how earnestly I longed to -hear once more the music of that melodious voice--to look again into -the depths of those magnificent eyes--to contemplate that glorious -countenance--that admirable form;--and now--oh! now the desire is -realised--and no human language has words powerful enough to convey to -you an idea of the happiness which I experience at this moment!” - -As he thus spoke he threw his arms around her waist, and drew her -towards him. - -“Charming creature!” he exclaimed, after a few moments’ pause, during -which he gazed upon her with a rapture which can only be conceived -and not explained: “how can I make thee comprehend the extent of my -love--my adoration--my worship? I have travelled much--have seen -beauties of all climes and of all varieties of loveliness;--but never -did mine eyes settle upon one so transcendently charming as thou! When -I parted from thee this afternoon in the Champs Elysées, it was as -if I were tearing myself away from some one whom I had loved all my -life, and whom I was never to see again. I was a second Adam, expelled -from another Eden! And now--now, I behold thee once more--I am seated -in thy presence--thou smilest upon me----oh! it is heaven--it is -heaven!”--and, as if in a transport of fury--so impassioned was his -soul--he drew her still closer towards him, and literally seizing her -head with both his hands, glued his lips to hers--sucking in her very -breath. - -Intoxicated with sensual happiness, Laura offered no resistance to -the ardour of the handsome young man; but ere she completely yielded -herself up to him, she remembered that something was due to prudence as -well as to the delights of love. - -Accordingly, withdrawing herself from his embrace, though still -permitting his arm to encircle her waist, she said, “I can refuse you -nothing; but first swear, by all you deem most sacred, that you will -never betray me!” - -“Never--never!” ejaculated Barthelma; “I take God to witness that -my lips shall never breathe a word injurious to your honour! On the -contrary,” he cried, in a tone of deep sincerity, “should I ever hear -a man speak lightly of you, I will provoke him to a duel that shall -terminate only in the death of one--if not both; and should a woman -dare to mention your name irreverently, I will even fabricate a tale -injurious to _her_ honour, that I may avenge _you_!” - -“Thanks--a thousand thanks, my generous friend!” murmured Laura, -one of her white hands playing with the long, dark, curling hair of -the Castelcicalan. “But may you not--in an unguarded moment--when -carousing, perhaps, with your brother-officers,--may you not -inadvertently allude to the adventure which happened to you in Paris, -and then be unconsciously drawn out--under the influence of wine--to -make revelations which will prove the ruin--the utter ruin--of the -weak, but confiding woman who trusts so much to your honour this night?” - -“May my tongue blister--may lightnings strike me--may I be cast down -a corpse at the feet of those to whom I ever open my lips to speak -irreverently or ungratefully of thee!” exclaimed the Italian, with -a terrible energy. “No--my adored Laura! you have not the slightest -ground for apprehensions of that nature. I am a man of honour--and I -would rather shed the last drop of my blood to serve thee, than raise -a finger to harm thee. Beautiful creature--adorable woman! who that -possesses a spark of human feeling, could do aught to bring a tear -into thine eye or chase away the smile from thy lips? I am thy slave, -Laura--and I rejoice in wearing the chains which thy magic loveliness -has cast around me!” - -In this impassioned strain did the Italian pour forth his adoration; -and, as Laura gazed upon him with eyes swimming in very wantonness, she -thought that he was far more handsome than she had fancied him to be -in the afternoon, or even when he had first appeared before her that -evening. - -He, too, on his part, found the syren a thousand times more -witching--more beauteous--more attractive than she had seemed in her -carriage; and yet even then he had been ready to fall down and worship -her. Now he beheld her in a light evening toilette--with naked neck and -naked arms,--no scarf--not even the most transparent gauze veiling her -shoulders of alabaster whiteness,--and with her hair dressed in massive -curls, instead of hyperion ringlets;--now, too, he could perceive, -by the undulations of her attire, that her limbs were turned with a -symmetry that was elegant and yet robust--admirable in shape, though -full in their proportions. - -“I thank you most sincerely for the assurances of secrecy which you -have given me,” said Laura, in the sweetest, most melting cadence of -her delicious voice; “likewise for the chivalrous professions with -which you have coupled them. You declare yourself to be my slave,” she -added; “but it will be for this night only!” - -And she hid her countenance on his breast, as if ashamed of the -invitation which her words implied--an invitation that welcomed him at -her abode until the morning! - -“In one sense I understand you, my charmer,” he said, kissing her -beauteous head as it lay reclining on his bosom; “and that alone ought -to be happiness sufficient for me! But I am greedy--I am covetous; and -I demand more! Listen, adored Laura--grant me your patience for a few -minutes.” - -She raised her head, and gazed tenderly up into his animated -countenance as he spoke. - -“I am not a rich man,” he continued; “but I possess a competency--nay, -a handsome competency; and I care not how soon I abandon the service of -even so good and excellent a prince as his Sovereign Highness--in order -to devote myself wholly and solely to you. I know not who you are--I -only know that you are the loveliest creature on the face of God’s -earth, and that your name is Laura Mortimer. Neither do I seek to know -more. But I am ready and anxious to join my fortunes with yours--to -marry you, if you will accept me as your husband,--or to become your -slave--your menial! Tell me not, then, that we must part to-morrow: oh! -let me remain with you, my charming Laura, until death shall separate -us!” - -“It cannot be, my handsome Barthelma!” murmured Laura. “But let me call -you by your Christian name----” - -“Lorenzo,” said the Castelcicalan. - -“You are, then, my handsome Lorenzo for this night--and for this night -only,” continued Laura, throwing her warm, plump, exquisitely modelled -arms about his neck, and pressing her lips to his glowing cheek. - -“Cruel--cruel Laura!” he exclaimed, returning the ardent caress. - -“Oh! would that circumstances permitted----” - -“No circumstances can separate us, if you should decide that we are to -remain together,” interrupted the Castelcicalan, in an impassioned tone. - -“Alas! you know not----” - -“If you are already a wife, I will kill your husband,” cried Lorenzo, -again speaking with vehement abruptness: “If you are engaged to wed one -whom you dislike, I will dare him to wrest you from my arms;--and if -you have relations--father or brothers--whom you imagine yourself bound -to consult, you may rest well assured that in preferring my love to -that of kith and kin you will be receiving the purest gold in exchange -for comparative dross.” - -“Dear Lorenzo, I must seal your eloquent lips with kisses,” said Laura, -with an arch playfulness that was also full of wantonness: “yes--I must -seal those red, moist lips,” she murmured, after having pressed her -mouth to his; “or you will persuade me to give an affirmative answer -to your endearing solicitations--and that would only be to record a -promise to-night which I most break to-morrow.” - -“Are you, then, my angel, the mistress of some man on whose wealth -you are dependent, or in whose power circumstances have placed you?” -demanded the impassioned Italian, with more fervid frankness than -considerate delicacy. - -“I am not--I never was--and I never shall be a pensioned mistress, -Lorenzo!” answered Laura, her manner becoming suddenly haughty. - -“Pardon me--Oh! I implore you to pardon me, my angel!” exclaimed the -young officer, straining her to his chest. “Not for worlds would I -offend you--not even to save my soul from perdition would I wrong -you by word or deed! Tell me, Laura--tell me--Laura--tell me--am I -forgiven?” - -She raised her countenance towards his own, and when their lips met she -sealed his pardon with a long, burning kiss. - -“And now,” she said, “do not ask me again to do that which is -impossible. I cannot marry you, although I am not married--I cannot be -your mistress, although I am not the mistress of another--I cannot hold -out any hope to you, although I am pledged to none other.” - -“You are as enigmatical as you are charming--you are as mysterious as -you are beautiful!” exclaimed Lorenzo, contemplating his fair companion -with the most enthusiastic rapture. - -“And it is not now for you to mar the pleasure which we enjoy in -each other’s society, by seeking to render me less enigmatical or -less mysterious,” observed the syren. “At the same time I cannot be -otherwise than flattered by the proposals you have made to me, and the -generous manner in which you have expressed yourself in my behalf. -Come--let us drink a glass of champagne to enhance the happiness of the -moment, and drown careful reflections.” - -“Be it so, my charmer,” said Lorenzo: “and if I no more torment you -with my entreaties--if I resolve to content myself with the amount -of bliss which you have promised me,--nevertheless, my dearest--ever -dearest Laura, I shall take leave of you to-morrow morning with the -fervent hope that we shall shortly meet again. You told me this -afternoon that you proposed to visit Montoni in the course of the -ensuing autumn----” - -“Yes--I have no doubt that I shall be enabled to fulfil that promise,” -interrupted Laura, by way of changing the topic of discourse. “And -now that you have given me to understand that you will not revive the -useless but flattering, and, in some sense, agreeable proposals you -made me just now, let us think only of the enjoyment of the present.” - -“It shall be as you say, my angel,” returned Lorenzo; and he forthwith -filled a glass with sparkling champagne, which he handed to his fair -companion. - -She quaffed it at a draught, and a flood of light seemed to suffuse -her entire countenance, and render her eyes brilliant as diamonds: her -lips, too, moist with the generous juice, acquired a deeper red--and -her bosom panted with amorous longings. - -Lorenzo beheld the effects of the rich fluid, and hastened to fill the -glass again: then, ere he drained it of its contents, he studiously -placed to his lips the side which Laura’s mouth had touched. - -“You had two friends with you this afternoon in the Champs Elysées?” -said the syren, interrogatively, when they were once more seated, -half-embraced in each other’s arms, upon the sofa. - -“Yes: one was a fellow-countryman of mine--the other a native of your -land, my beloved,” answered Lorenzo. “But I must tell you the singular -adventure that occurred to us: and, indeed,” he added, with a smile, “I -am deeply indebted to a certain anonymous correspondent--for had it not -been through him, I should not have this day visited the scene where I -was fortunate enough to encounter you.” - -“A singular adventure!” exclaimed Laura, with an admirable affectation -of the most ingenuous curiosity. - -“Judge for yourself, my angel,” replied Lorenzo then, taking Rosalie’s -letter from his pocket, he handed it to Laura, who, consuming with -strong desires though she were, could scarcely suppress a laugh as she -perused the _billet_, with the contents of which she was already so -well acquainted. - -“And did you see the poor man who addressed you and your friends in -this wild, romantic style?” she asked, restoring him the note. - -“He did not make his appearance,” responded Barthelma. “But even if -that letter were the production of some mischievous wag, or of a crazy -person, I could not possibly feel otherwise than rejoiced at having -been made the dupe of either a humourist or a madman: for, as I just -now observed, the anonymous letter led to my meeting with you.” - -And, as he spoke, he smoothed down her glossy, luxuriant hair with his -open palm. - -“But doubtless your two companions found more difficulty in consoling -themselves for the disappointment?” said Laura. - -“Faith! dear lady,” exclaimed Lorenzo, “they spoke but little on the -subject: for, to tell you the truth, your beauty had not failed to -produce a very sensible effect on them as well as upon myself.” - -“Flatterer!” cried Laura, playfully caressing the handsome Italian. - -“Oh! you know that you are lovely--transcendently lovely!” he -exclaimed, in an ardent tone; “and you can well believe me when I -assure you that my two friends escaped not the magic influence of -your charms. But how different were the effects thus produced! Di -Ponta--that is the name of my fellow-countryman--was enthusiastic -and rapturous in your praise; whereas Charles Hatfield--the -Englishman--became gloomy, morose, and sullen----” - -“A singular effect for the good looks of a woman to produce!” cried -Laura, laughing--while her heart beat with the joy of a proud triumph. - -“Such, nevertheless, was the case in this instance, my angel,” said -Lorenzo. “I do firmly believe that Hatfield was jealous of me in being -the happy mortal who perceived the loss of your parasol, and had the -honour of restoring it;--yes--jealous, dear lady, because that happy -accident introduced me to your notice, and privileged me to address -you.” - -“Your English friend must be a very weak-minded young man,” observed -Laura; “and I am truly delighted that it was _not_ he whose -acquaintance I was destined to make this day.” - -“Nevertheless, he is very handsome,” said Lorenzo, gazing upon the -syren with a playful affectation of jealousy. - -“Not so handsome as you, my Barthelma,” replied Laura, with simulated -enthusiasm; and, in order to dispel the partial coldness which a -digression from amorous topics had allowed to creep over her, she cast -her arms around Lorenzo’s neck and fastened her lips to his. - -Then the blood began once more to circulate like lightning in her -veins,--and her voluptuous bosom panted against the young Italian’s -chest. - -Here shall we leave the amorous pair; for, after a little tender -dalliance and another glass of the exciting juice of Epernay, they -retired to the chamber whose portal we must not pass to follow them. - - * * * * * - -At eight o’clock in the morning Lorenzo Barthelma took his departure; -and shortly afterwards Rosalie entered Laura’s room. - -The Frenchwoman, who was as discreet as she was an adept at intrigue, -wore the usual calm and respectful expression of countenance; and not -even by a sly smile nor an arch look did she appear as if she devoted a -thought to the manner in which her mistress had passed the night. - -“Did the captain depart unperceived?” inquired Laura, who, although -she had given no instructions to that effect, was nevertheless well -assured that her intelligent abigail had superintended the egress of -the handsome Italian. - -“Entirely unobserved, _mademoiselle_,” was the answer. “I amused the -porter and his wife in their lodge for a few minutes while Captain -Barthelma slipped out into the street. Three persons alone are -acquainted with last night’s adventure,--you, the captain, and myself.” - -“Good!” exclaimed Laura: then, drawing aside the curtain of the bed -in which she was voluptuously pillowed, she said, “And now, my dear -Rosalie, give me an account of your proceedings relative to the Marquis -of Delmour.” - -“I have learnt but a few facts, _mademoiselle_,” was the reply: -“those, however, are of some importance. He is enormously rich--very -generous--bears an excellent character----” - -“Is he married?” demanded Laura, hastily. - -“Yes: but he has been living apart from his wife for many years;--and -respecting the cause of their separation, there is a great mystery -which not even his best friends can penetrate, and into which, -therefore, a casual inquirer like myself could not obtain the least -insight.” - -“And this is all you could ascertain concerning him?” said Laura, -interrogatively. “Did you not think of asking if he had any family by -his wife?” - -“I did not forget to make that inquiry, _mademoiselle_,” answered -Rosalie; “and I was assured that his lordship is childless.” - -“You are a good and faithful creature,” observed Laura; “and your -services will prove invaluable to me. That purse which lies on the -toilette-table, contains no insignificant sum in gold. It is yours--a -recompense for the work of yesterday. But as you now know more of me -than you did before, and as in a few short hours I permitted you to -obtain a deeper reading of my secret soul than you could possibly have -acquired, had I shut myself up in a studied reserve, it is as well that -you should understand me thoroughly. I mean this, Rosalie--that I can -be a good friend, or an implacable enemy--” - -“I shall never provoke your enmity, _mademoiselle_,” observed the -abigail. - -“I do not think you will, Rosalie,” resumed Laura: “but, as I said ere -now, it is as well that you should comprehend my character in all its -details--in all its phases. You will benefit yourself by serving me -faithfully: you would only injure yourself by playing me false. When -once I have said upon this subject all that I mean to say, I shall not -again refer to it: but the better we understand each other, the more -permanent will be our connexion. Reckon, then, on my friendship so long -as you deserve it;--deceive me, and I will risk my very life to be -avenged.” - -“Oh! _mademoiselle_,” exclaimed Rosalie, absolutely frightened by the -vehemence with which her mistress spoke,--“have I done anything to -render you suspicious of me?” - -“On the contrary,” said Laura, with a smile; “you have done all you -could to serve me--and you see that I have not forgotten to reward -you. But within the last twelve or eighteen hours I have permitted you -to read all the weaknesses of my soul--and now it is requisite that you -should understand its strength: I have made you my confident--but I -deemed it prudent to convince you that I know how to punish treachery. -That is all, Rosalie: I have no more to say upon the subject;--and now, -let me see your pretty face cheer up and wear a smile.” - -The Frenchwoman was reassured by these last words; and, finding that -her mistress had only intended to give her a salutary warning, and not -to upbraid her for any actual misconduct, she speedily recovered her -wonted gaiety and good spirits. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXV. - -LORD WILLIAM TREVELYAN. - - -The scene changes to the residence of Lord William Trevelyan in Park -Square. - -It was evening, and the young nobleman was pacing up and down in an -elegantly furnished parlour, which was lighted by means of a brilliant -gas-jet enclosed in a pale red glass globe--so that the lustre which -filled the room was of roseate hue. The curtains, sofas, and cushions -of the chairs were of a rich crimson; and the paper on the walls -was of a kindred colour and splendid pattern. In each corner of the -apartment stood a marble jar, filled with flowers recently gathered, -and rendering the atmosphere cool and fragrant. - -Lord William was tall and handsome, his complexion was somewhat dark, -giving him the appearance of a Spaniard rather than of an Englishman; -and yet the ruddy hues of health were upon his cheeks. His hair was -black as jet, silky as that of a woman, and parted above a brow high, -intellectual, and expressive of a noble mind. His eyes were large -and dark, and full of the fire of genius; and there was something -peculiarly pleasing--almost winning in his smile. - -In disposition Lord William was amiable--in manners unassuming: his -character was unimpeachable--and his political opinions were of -the most liberal tendency. His charity was extensive, but entirely -unostentatious: his dependants revered him as a good master, and his -acquaintances loved him as a sincere friend. - -He was in his twenty-fourth year; and, until he had set eyes upon -Agnes Vernon, he had never experienced the influence of the tender -passion. But one day, while on a visit to a friend at Norwood, he was -strolling alone in the vicinity, and accident led his footsteps towards -the cottage, in the garden belonging to which he beheld the beauteous -creature whose image had ever since filled his soul. - -Truly had he said to Mrs. Mortimer that he adored the fair recluse -of the cottage--that he worshipped the very ground upon which she -trod: his love amounted almost to an idolatry;--and yet he had never -exchanged a word--scarcely even a look, with the object of his -affection! - -It could be no world-contaminated heart that entertained such a passion -as this--no selfish soul that could cherish such a pure and holy -attachment. - -But it was a generous--upright--noble-minded young man, who was now -anxiously waiting the arrival of the woman with whom he had made an -appointment for the evening in question. - - * * * * * - -Were the English aristocracy to be judged generally by such nobles -as the Earl of Ellingham and Lord William Trevelyan, the term of its -existence would not now perhaps be within the range of prophecy. - -But, as matters now stand,--as the aristocracy is corrupt, -selfish, and cruel--self-sufficient and ignorant--proud and -intolerant--unprincipled, profligate, and tyrannical,--it is not -difficult to predict its speedy downfall. - -Therefore is it that we boldly proclaim our conviction that Monarchy -and Aristocracy will not exist ten years longer in enlightened England; -but that a Republic will displace them! - -The _hereditary principle_, either in Monarchy or Aristocracy, is the -most detestable idea that ever entered the brains of knaves, or was -adopted by fools. - -In respect to Monarchy, we are gravely assured that the principle of -hereditary succession guarantees a nation against the civil wars that -may arise from the pretensions of numerous claimants to the supreme -power. But the history of every monarchical country in the world gives -the lie to this assertion. Crowns have been bones of contention from -time immemorial, and will continue to be so until they be crushed -altogether beneath the heel of Republicanism. Take the history of -England, for instance--that England, where the hereditary principle is -said to be admirable and efficacious beyond all question: thirty-three -Kings or Queens and two minors have reigned in this country since the -Conquest by the Norman ruffian--_and during that period we have had -eight civil wars and nineteen rebellions!_ - -The LAWS OF GOD, moreover, bear testimony against Monarchy. What said -the Prophet Samuel when the Jews insisted upon having a King? “I will -call unto the Lord, and he shall send thunder and rain, that you may -perceive and see that your wickedness is great which you have done in -the sight of the Lord, _in asking you a King_. So Samuel called unto -the Lord, and the Lord sent thunder and rain that day; and all the -people greatly feared the Lord and Samuel. And all the people said unto -Samuel, Pray for thy servants unto the Lord thy God, that we die not; -_for we have added unto our sins this evil, to ask a King_.” - -Either the Bible is true or false. If true--as assuredly it is--then is -the institution of Monarchy _a positive crime,_ tolerated by an entire -nation! - -And no wonder that Heaven itself should protest against a system which -is nothing more nor less than setting up an idol for the millions to -worship,--an idol as useless as an Indian pagod, but often as terrible -and slaughterous in its baleful influence as Juggernaut in its fatal -progress. - -Never did Satan contrive a scheme more certain of promoting idolatry -than the raising up of Kings and Queens as rivals to the Majesty of -Heaven;--for the root of Monarchy is in hell--the laws of God denounce -the institution as a sin--and the history of the whole world proclaims -that blood inevitably attends upon it! - -All men were originally equal; and in no country therefore, could any -privilege of birth give one family a right to monopolise the executive -power for ever: neither can one generation bind that which is as yet -to come. The existing race of human beings has no property in the -one unborn: we of the present day have no right to assume the power -of enslaving posterity:--and, on the same principle, our ancestors -had no right to enslave us. If those ancestors chose to make one set -of laws for themselves, we can institute another code for our own -government. But of course such a change as this can only be made by the -representatives of the People; and in order that the people _may_ have -a fair representation, the following elements of a constitution become -absolutely necessary:-- - - Universal Suffrage; - Vote by Ballot; - No Property Qualification; - Paid Representatives; - Annual Parliaments; and - Equal Electoral Districts. - -Give us these principles--accord us these institutions--and we will -vouch for the happiness, prosperity, and tranquillity of the kingdom. - -[Illustration] - -The French now stand at the head of the civilisation of Europe. They -are on the same level as the fine people of the United States of -America; and England occupies an inferior grade in the scale. - -Alas! that we should be compelled to speak thus of our native land: but -the truth must be told! - -As yet almost every country in Europe has demanded and -obtained something of its rulers, in consequence of the French -Revolution;--whereas England has as yet obtained nothing in the shape -of Reform! - -Oh! shame--shame! what has become of our national spirit?--are we all -willing slaves, and shall we not agitate--morally, but energetically -agitate--for our rights and liberties? - -The aristocracy and the men in power treat the people’s assemblies -with ridicule, and denominate the working-classes, when so assembled, -as “a mob.” They will not discriminate between honest politicians and -the respectable working-classes on the one hand, and the ragamuffinry -of society on the other. They confound us all together in the sweeping -appellation of “_the mob!_” - -The insensates! Do they not reflect that if ten or fifteen thousand -persons meet for the purpose of discussing some grand political -question, some five or six hundred pickpockets and mischievous boys are -certain to intrude themselves into the assemblage? Why--black sheep -even find their way into the Houses of Parliament--aye, and into the -very suite of Royalty itself. - - * * * * * - -But after recording all the above observations, we must once more -declare that we do not recommend violence: we insist upon the necessity -of a grand moral agitation--an agitation which shall pervade the -entire country, as an ocean is roused by the storm into a mass of -mighty waves. The people must assume an imposing attitude; and let the -memorable words of Lafayette be repeated by every tongue:--“_For a -nation to love liberty, it is sufficient that she knows it; and for a -nation to be free, it is sufficient that she wills it!_” - -And, oh! my fellow-countrymen, let not this glorious thesis be used -in vain! By the misery and starvation which millions of ye endure--by -the hopeless entombment to which the Poor Law Bastilles condemn ye, -when work fails--by the denial of an honest recognition of the rights -of labour, which is insolently persisted in--by the spectacle of your -famished wives and little ones--by the naked walls of the wretched -hovels in which the labouring population dwells--by the blinding toil -of the poor seamstress--by the insults heaped on ye by a rapacious -aristocracy and an intolerant clergy--by the right which a despicable -oligarchy usurps to hold the reins of power--by the limited suffrage -which leaves the millions unrepresented--by the oppressive weight of -taxation laid upon the productive classes--by the sorrows which the -hard-working operative endures throughout his virility, and the misery -that attends upon his decrepitude--by the badge of pauperism that -the sons and daughters of toil are compelled to wear in the accursed -Union-houses,--by all your wrongs, we adjure ye not to remain at -rest--not to endure the yoke which ye can cast off in a moment--not to -stand still and gaze listlessly, while all the rest of the civilised -world is in motion! - - * * * * * - -Returning from this digression to the thread of our narrative, we -will suppose that Mrs. Mortimer has at length arrived at the house in -Park Square, and that she is already seated with the young nobleman, -who little suspected the infamous character of the woman whom he had -admitted to his confidence. - -“I have been looking forward with much impatience and anxiety to your -coming,” said Lord William: “but even now that you are here, I know not -in which manner you can assist me.” - -“_Faint heart never won fair lady_, my lord,” returned the old woman; -“and you must take courage. The maxim which I quoted is a good one.” - -“I do not despair, madam,” said the young nobleman: “and yet I seem as -if I were involved in a deep mist, through which I cannot even grope -my way. Alone and unassisted, I cannot hope to obtain access to that -charming creature; and, if assisted, I will do nothing that shall -violate the respect due to one so pure of heart as I believe her to be.” - -“I should have proposed to become the bearer of a letter from your -lordship to Miss Vernon,” remarked Mrs. Mortimer, coldly: “but, -perceiving beforehand that your scruples are over nice and your notions -somewhat of the most fastidious, I really do not see how I can serve -you.” - -“I am afraid to write to her--she would perhaps be offended to an -extent that might be irremediable,” exclaimed Lord William, a prey to -the most cruel bewilderment. - -“And yet your lordship once endeavoured to bribe the servant-girl to -become the bearer of your amatory epistle,” said Mrs. Mortimer, in a -tone of sarcasm--almost of disgust. - -“Now you are offended with me,” cried the young nobleman. “It is true -that I did pen a letter to Agnes--telling her how much I loved her and -how honourable were my intentions--imploring her likewise to grant me a -few moments’ interview, and to pardon the means that I thus adopted of -accosting her, having no other mode of procuring an introduction. Such -a letter I did indeed write,” continued Trevelyan: “but it was in a fit -of despair--of madness--of insensate recklessness.--I know not how to -explain myself! The servant refused to deliver that note--and my eyes -were immediately opened to the impropriety of the proceeding which I -had adopted.” - -“And you therefore decline to entrust me, who am well acquainted with -Agnes, to deliver a similar letter into her hand? Your lordship is -wrong in thus refusing to be guided by me,” continued the crafty old -woman. “Think you that with one so innocent, so artless as Agnes, I -cannot prepare the way to render your letter acceptable--at least to -prevent it from producing a sudden shock to her notions of maidenly -propriety?” - -“Much as I should be rejoiced could you accomplish that aim,” said -Trevelyan, “I should be ten thousand times happier were you able to -procure me an interview with her.” - -“This is madness!” exclaimed the old woman. “Can I not more easily -induce her to read a letter from a stranger, than to receive that -stranger in person? Is not the letter the first and most natural step -to the visit? Trust to me, my lord: I know the disposition of Agnes--I -understand affairs of this nature--and I am also well aware that love -blinds you to the ways of prudence.” - -“Be it, then, as you propose,” said Lord William, after a long pause, -during which be reflected profoundly. “I will write the letter this -evening: will you call for it early to-morrow morning?” - -“I will,” answered the old woman: “and in less than twenty-four hours I -will undertake to bring you tidings calculated to encourage hope--or I -am very much mistaken,” she added emphatically. - -“You do not believe--you have no reason to suppose that the father -of Agnes already destines her to become the bride of some person of -his own choice?” asked Trevelyan, now for the first time shaping in -words an idea that had haunted him for some days past. “Because,” he -continued, speaking with the rapidity of excitement, “I cannot possibly -comprehend wherefore he compels her to dwell in that strict seclusion.” - -“I do not believe that you have any such cause for apprehension,” said -Mrs. Mortimer, in a tone of confidence--as if she were well able to -give the species of assurance which she so emphatically conveyed. -“There is a mystery--a deep mystery attached to the fair recluse,--and -what that mystery is, I am myself completely ignorant. But that the -father of Agnes has no such intention as the one you imagined, and that -Agnes herself has as yet never known the passion of love,--these are -facts to which I do not hesitate to pledge myself most solemnly.” - -“Oh! then there is indeed room for hope!” exclaimed Lord William, his -countenance brightening up and joy flashing in his eyes. - -“A nobleman in your position--blessed with wealth and a handsome -person--endowed with agreeable manners and a cultivated mind,” said -Mrs. Mortimer, “need not despair of winning the love and securing the -hand of a maiden dwelling in utter obscurity and totally unacquainted -with the world.” - -“I would rather that she should learn to love me for my own sake, -madam,” observed Lord William, in a serious tone, “than for any -adventitious advantages of rank or social position that I may possess.” - -“Well, my lord--we shall see,” said Mrs. Mortimer, rising to depart. -“To-morrow morning I will call for the letter; and I shall proceed -straight over to the cottage: In the afternoon, or evening, I will do -myself the honour of waiting upon your lordship again.” - -“I shall expect you with impatience, madam,” returned Trevelyan, as he -politely hastened to open the door for her. - -Mrs. Mortimer took her leave; and the young nobleman sate down to pen a -letter to Agnes Vernon. - -But this was not so easy a matter as he had anticipated. Sheet after -sheet of paper did he spoil,--a hundred times did he commence--and as -often did he throw aside his pen in despair. Now he fancied that his -style was too bold--then he conceived it to be too tame and vague: now -he imagined himself to be too complimentary in his language towards -one possessing a mind so chaste and pure--then he felt assured that he -was acting indiscreetly to write at all. In the course of an hour he -was swayed by such an infinite variety of conflicting sentiments and -impressions that he was almost inclined to throw up the task in despair. - -At length, however, he made a beginning which pleased him; and his pen -then ran fluently enough over the paper, until the letter was composed -in the following manner:-- - - “Pardon a stranger who dares to address you, beautiful - Miss Vernon, in a strain that might give you offence, - were he not sincere in his language and honourable in his - intentions:--pardon me, I implore you--and refuse not to - read these few lines to the end! He who thus writes is the - individual that you have observed occasionally in the vicinity - of your dwelling; and you will perceive by the signature to - this letter that he is not a man without ostensible guarantees - for his social position. That his character is unimpeachable - he can proudly declare; and that he will not address to you, - Miss Vernon, a single word which he will fear to repeat in your - father’s presence, he solemnly declares. - - “Let me, however, speak of myself in the first person again: - let me assure you that your beauty has captivated my heart--and - that, if anything were wanting to render me your slave, the - description which the bearer of this letter has given me of - your amiable qualities, would be more than sufficient. I am - rich--and therefore I have no selfish motive in addressing - you, even if you be rich also: but I would rather that it were - otherwise with you, so that my present proceeding may appear - to you the more disinterested. Had I any means of obtaining - an introduction to you, beautiful Miss Vernon, I should not - have adopted a measure that gives me pain because I tremble - lest it should wound or offend you. But mine is an honest--a - sincere--and a devoted attachment; and I shall be happy indeed - if you will permit me to open a correspondence with your father - on the subject. Were he to honour me with a visit, I should - be proud to receive him. But if, in the meantime, you seek to - know more of me--if I might venture to solicit you to accord - me an interview of only a few minutes, you cannot divine how - fervently I should thank you--how delighted I should feel! Let - this interview take place in the presence of Mrs. Mortimer, if - you will: I have nothing to communicate to you that I should - hesitate to say before your father or your friends. Oh! how - can I convince you of my sincerity?--how can I testify my - devotion?--how can I prove the extent of my love? - - “I beseech you to reflect, Miss Vernon, that my happiness - depends upon your reply. Am I guilty of an indiscretion in - loving you? Love is a passion beyond mortal control! He who - knows no other deity, deserves not blame for worshipping the - sun, because it is glorious and bright; and my heart, which - knows no other idol, adores you, because you are beautiful and - good. Treat not my conduct, then, with anger: let not your - pride be offended by the proceeding which I have adopted in - order to make my sentiments known to you;--and scorn not the - honest--the pure--the ardent affection which an honourable - man dares to proffer you. I do not merit punishment because I - love you;--and your silence would prove a punishment severe - and undeserved indeed! Again, I conjure you to remember that - the happiness of a fellow-creature depends upon you: your - decision will either inspire me with the most joyous hope, or - plunge me into the deepest despair. At the same time, beauteous - Agnes,--(the words--those delightful words, ’beauteous Agnes,’ - are written now, and I cannot--will not erase them)--at the - same time, I say, if your affections be already engaged--if - a mortal more blest than myself have received the promise of - your hand,--accept the assurance, sweet maiden, that never - more shall you be molested by me--never again will I intrude - myself upon your attention. For with my love is united the most - profound respect; and not for worlds would I do aught to excite - an angry feeling in your soul. - - “Your ardent admirer and devoted friend, - “WILLIAM TREVELYAN.” - -With this letter the young nobleman was satisfied. He considered it -to be sufficiently energetic, and at the same time respectful: he saw -nothing in it against which the purest mind could take exceptions; and, -in the sanguine confidence natural to his age, and to the honourable -candour of his disposition, he already looked upon his aims as half -accomplished--his aspirations as half gained. - -Having sealed and addressed the letter, he placed it upon the -mantel-piece ready for Mrs. Mortimer when she should call in the -morning: then, fetching a portfolio from an inner room, he opened -it, and from amongst several drawings in water-colours, selected one -on which his gaze was immediately rivetted with deep and absorbing -interest. - -For that painting--executed by his own hand--was a portrait of Agnes -Vernon; and even the most fastidious critic, if acquainted with the -original, must have pronounced it to be a living likeness. - -Yes: on that paper was delineated, with the most perfect accuracy, the -fair countenance of the _Recluse of the Cottage_,--every feature--every -lineament drawn with a fidelity to which only a first-rate artist, or -an amateur whose pencil was guided by the finger of Love, could have -possibly attained. There were the eyes of deep blackness and melting -softness,--there was the high, intelligent forehead,--there was the -raven hair, silken and glossy, and seeming to flow luxuriantly even in -the very picture,--and there was the rich red mouth, wearing a smile -such as mortals behold upon the lips of angels in their dreams. How -charming was the entire countenance!--how amiable--how heavenly the -expression that it wore! - -And no wonder that the likeness was so striking--so accurate--so -faithful;--for the young nobleman had touched and retouched it until -he had delineated on the paper the precise counterpart of the image -that dwelt in his mind. Hours and hours had he devoted to that labour -of love:--on each occasion when he returned home after contemplating, -from behind the green barrier of the garden, the idol of his adoration, -he addressed himself to the improvement of that portrait. At one time -he had beheld the maiden to greater advantage than at another; and -then he studied to convey to the card-board the last and most pleasing -impression thus made upon his mind; until he produced a likeness so -faithful that not another touch was required--no further improvement -could be effected. - -And, like Pygmalion with his Galatea, how Lord William Trevelyan -worshipped that portrait! No--the simile is incorrect; because -the sculptor learnt to adore the statue that was cold and -passionless--whereas the young nobleman was blest with the conviction -that there was a living original for the image he had so faithfully -traced upon his paper,--and it was that living original whom he made -the goddess of his thoughts. - -The clock had struck ten, and Lord William was still bending over the -portrait that lay upon the table, when a footman entered the room -to announce that a lady who declined to give her name solicited an -interview with the young nobleman. - -Lord William, hastily closing the portfolio, desired that she might be -immediately shown into his presence. - -The domestic bowed and retired. - -In a few minutes he returned, ushering in the unknown visitor, who wore -a veil over her countenance: but the moment the footman had withdrawn, -she raised the veil, and disclosed a face that was strikingly handsome, -though pale and careworn. She was apparently about thirty-six or -thirty-seven years of age--with dark hair, fine hazel eyes, and good -teeth. Tall and well-formed, her figure, which was rather inclined -to _embonpoint_, was set off to advantage by the tasteful--indeed -elegant style of her dress; and in her deportment there was an air of -distinction denoting the polished and well-bred lady. - -Lord William received her with becoming courtesy, requested her to be -seated, and then awaited an explanation of her business. - -“Your lordship is doubtless surprised at receiving a visit at so -unseasonable an hour, and on the part of a complete stranger,” began -the lady, in a pleasing though mournful tone of voice: “but I know not -to whom else to address myself for the information I now seek--and if -you cannot afford it to me, I shall be unhappy indeed.” - -“Madam,” said Lord William, somewhat astonished at this mysterious -opening of the conversation, “if it be in my power to serve you, I -shall render that service cheerfully.” - -“You are well acquainted, I believe, my lord, with Sir Gilbert -Heathcote?” observed the lady, somewhat abruptly, as she bowed her -thanks for the assurance the young nobleman had given her. - -“Sir Gilbert Heathcote, though much older than I, is an intimate friend -of mine,” observed Trevelyan. - -“Do you know where he is--what has become of him?” demanded the lady, -in a still more anxious tone than before. - -“I really do not, madam,” was the reply. - -“Merciful heavens!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together in a -paroxysm of sorrow. - -“I have not seen him for this week past,” continued Trevelyan. -“But--are you ill, madam? Can I offer you anything?--shall I summon -assistance?” - -And, as he spoke, the nobleman rose from his seat and approached the -bell-pull. - -“No--no, my lord!” cried the lady. “Do not ring--do not call your -servants! I shall be better presently. But pardon me if I could not -control my feelings,” she added, wiping the tears from her eyes. - -The young nobleman, in spite of the adjuration to the contrary, -hastened into the adjoining room and speedily returned with a decanter -of spring water and a tumbler. He then filled the glass and presented -it to his afflicted visitor, who thanked him for his delicate attention -with a look expressive of gratitude--the words that she would have -uttered being stifled in her throat. - -Refreshed with the cooling beverage, she said, after a short pause, “My -lord, have you the slightest conception where your friend Sir Gilbert -Heathcote is? Did he intimate to you his intention to leave London? did -he hint at the probability of his departure from England? Oh! I conjure -you to tell me all you know: for--for--you cannot divine how much--how -deeply I love him!” - -Trevelyan was struck with astonishment at these last words,--words -that were uttered in a tone of such convincing, such profound -sincerity, that he could not for an instant question their import. And -yet--though since the days of childhood Trevelyan had known Sir Gilbert -Heathcote--he had never heard that the baronet was married: on the -contrary, he had invariably understood him to be a single man. If this -latter belief were the true one, then, was the lady now in his presence -the mistress of his friend?--for assuredly she had not spoken with the -confidence of a sister, but with the hesitation of one who reveals a -fact that is in some way associated with shame. - -The lady perceived what was passing in the mind of Trevelyan; and in a -low but fully audible tone, she said, “My lord, circumstances compel me -to reveal myself to you as your friend’s mistress. Yes: though I love -him more than ever wife could love--yet am I only his mistress,--for, -alas! I am the wife of another! And now, my lord,” she added, with deep -feeling, “you may spurn me from you--you may command your lacquey to -thrust me from your dwelling: but I implore you to give me tidings of -Sir Gilbert!” - -“Madam,” exclaimed Trevelyan, the moment he could recover from the -bewilderment into which this impassioned address plunged him, “not -for worlds could I do or say aught to augment year affliction--much -less to insult you. I declare to you most solemnly that I have neither -heard nor seen anything of Sir Gilbert Heathcote for a week. I called -at his chambers in the Albany the day before yesterday, and was simply -informed that he was not at home. I left my card without thinking to -make further inquiries--not suspecting that his absence had been for -days, instead of hours.” - -“Oh! yes--upwards of a week has elapsed since I saw him,” exclaimed the -lady, with difficulty subduing a fresh outburst of grief. “Each day -have I been to the Albany--and still the answer is the same--‘_He has -not returned!_’ No--he has not returned,” she added, clasping her hands -together; “and he has not written to me! O God! I fear that some fatal -accident has befallen him!” - -“Do not give way to such a distressing belief,” cried Trevelyan, -feeling deeply for the unfortunate woman, whose grief was so -profound and so sincere. “Shall I make inquiries--immediate -inquiries--concerning him? Perhaps I may learn more than a lady -possibly can.” - -“Generous-hearted nobleman!” exclaimed the visitor; “how can I ever -repay you for this kindness towards an utter stranger?” - -“Remember also, madam,” said Trevelyan, “that, apart from my readiness -to serve you or any lady whom affliction has overtaken, I begin to -experience some degree of anxiety on behalf of a gentleman who has -ever shown a sincere friendship towards me. Not another minute will I -delay the inquiries which, alike for your sake and his, I now deem it -necessary to institute.” - -Thus speaking, the young nobleman rose from his chair. - -“My lord,” said the lady, rising also, and speaking in a tone -indicative of deep emotion, “may I hope to receive a communication from -you as early as possible? My suspense will be great--it is even now -intolerable----” - -And she burst into tears. - -“Madam,” interrupted the young nobleman, profoundly touched by her -affliction, which was evidently most unfeigned, “you can either -accompany me, or remain here until my return. Perhaps the latter will -be the more desirable--at least if you can restrain your impatience, so -natural under the circumstances, for a couple of hours. But perhaps,” -he added, an idea striking him,--“perhaps you live at some distance----” - -“I am the occupant of a house in Kentish Town,” said the lady; “and -therefore my dwelling is not very far from your lordship’s. If you see -no impropriety in it--if there be no one here whom my presence would -offend,” she continued, speaking in a subdued and almost timid tone, “I -would rather--oh! much rather wait until you return.” - -“By all means, madam,” exclaimed the generous-hearted young noble. -“Should you require anything during my absence, the servants will obey -your summons; and they will receive my orders, ere I depart, to pay you -every attention.” - -“I shall not trouble them, my lord,” was the reply: “but I return you -my deepest--sincerest thanks for the kind consideration with which you -treat me.” - -Trevelyan bowed, and then quitted the room. - - - - -CHAPTER CXLVI. - -A SKETCH OF TWO BROTHERS.--A MYSTERY. - - -The nobleman’s cab was got ready in a very few minutes; and while he is -driving rapidly along towards Piccadilly, we will place on record some -particulars respecting Sir Gilbert Heathcote. - -The baronet was a man of about forty years of age, and of very handsome -countenance, as well as of tall, commanding figure. He had never -married; and report stated that a disappointment in love, experienced -when he was very young, had induced him to make a vow to the effect -that, as he had lost the idol of his heart’s devotion, he would never -accompany another to the altar. Such was the rumour which had obtained -currency at the time amongst his friends, and was even repeated at the -period whereof we are writing, whenever astonishment was expressed -that a man enjoying all the advantages of personal appearance and -social position should not have sought to form a brilliant matrimonial -alliance. For the baronet was not only very handsome, as remarked -above, but he also possessed the superior attraction of four thousand -a year. His habits were nevertheless inexpensive: he lived in chambers -at the Albany, and had no country seat. Indeed, he seldom quitted -London, and was altogether of quiet--even retired habits. He was -fond of reading, and was also an admirer of the fine arts: he used -often to observe that the only extravagance of which he was ever -guilty, consisted in the purchase of a fine picture or of articles of -_virtû_;--but these he seldom retained--giving them as presents to his -friends or to museums. Not that he was whimsical or capricious, and -grew tired to-day of what he had bought yesterday: but he was pleased -at the thought of rescuing good paintings and real curiosities from -the auction-room or from Wardour-street; and he was wont to observe -that he experienced more delight in seeing them in the possession of -friends who could appreciate their value, or in museums where their -safety was ensured, than in having them left to the mercy of servants -in his “bachelor apartments.” The fact was, that his disposition was -naturally generous; but this generosity was displayed in a particular -fashion--and as he himself admired objects of _virtû_, he fancied that -they must likewise prove the most welcome gifts he could bestow upon -his friends. - -Sir Gilbert had a brother, who was very unlike himself. James Heathcote -was an attorney--grasping, greedy, avaricious, unprincipled--and -therefore rich. He was only two years younger than Sir Gilbert; but -close application to business, evil passions, and parsimonious habits -had exercised such an influence upon his personal appearance, that he -seemed ten years older. His hair was grey--that of Sir Gilbert was -quite dark: his form was slightly bowed--that of the baronet was erect -as a dart. James also was unmarried--but not through any disappointment -in early life. Indeed, he possessed a heart that might be susceptible -of desire, but could not possibly experience the pure feeling of -love. He lived in a handsome house in Bedford-row, Holborn; and his -apartments were elegantly furnished;--for he was wont to observe that -persons who are anxious to get on in this world, must make a good -appearance, and that a mean office frequently turns away a person who -might prove an excellent client. But his aim was to amass money--his -object was to increase his wealth, no matter how: still he had always -contrived matters so cunningly, that no one could positively and -unequivocally prove him to be a rogue. - -With such a dissimilitude of character between the two brothers, it -cannot be supposed that any extraordinary degree of intimacy existed -on their part. Indeed, they seldom saw each other--although the more -generous nature of Gilbert would have cheerfully maintained a more -consistent and becoming feeling: but the cold, reserved, matter-of-fact -disposition of James proved absolutely repulsive and forbidding in this -respect. So great, in fine, was the discrepancy between these men, -that people were surprised when they learnt for the first time that -the money-making, hard-hearted attorney was the brother of the urbane, -amiable, and polished baronet. - -These hasty outlines will afford the reader some idea of Sir Gilbert -Heathcote on the one hand, and Mr. James Heathcote on the other. We -shall see more of them both hereafter; and their characters will then -become more fully developed. In the meantime we must return to Lord -William Trevelyan, whom we left hastening in his cab, at half-past ten -at night, towards the Albany. - -On arriving at that celebrated establishment, the young nobleman -instituted various inquiries concerning Sir Gilbert; but not the least -particle of information of a satisfactory nature could he obtain. It -appeared that the baronet had been absent for eight days, and that no -communication had been received from him--neither had he given any -previous intimation of his intended departure. His brother had been -informed of this unaccountable absence; but it seemed that the attorney -had taken no step to solve the mystery. This was the only fact which -Lord William succeeded in gleaning in addition to the meagre knowledge -he already possessed relative to the matter; and he returned homeward -with a heavy heart, and experiencing strange misgivings in respect to -his friend. - -It was near midnight when he re-entered the room where he had left the -lady. The moment he appeared on the threshold of the door, she rose -from her seat and hastened forward to meet him, her looks revealing -the intensity of the anxiety and the acuteness of the suspense which -she experienced. But when she saw by his countenance, even before a -word fell from his lips, that he had no good news to impart, a ghastly -pallor overspread her face, and she would have fallen had he not -supported her and led her back to her chair. - -“I grieve to say, madam,” he at length observed, “that I have learnt -nothing more than what you already know--unless indeed it be the fact -that a communication respecting Sir Gilbert’s disappearance has been -made to Mr. James Heathcote, and that he has treated the matter with -unpardonable levity--if not with heartless indifference.” - -“I do not know that brother--I never saw him,” said the lady, speaking -in a broken voice: “but I have heard enough of his character to make me -dread him.” - -“At the same time, madam,” remarked Lord Trevelyan, in a tone of firm -though gentle remonstrance, “there is not the slightest ground for -suspicion against Mr. James Heathcote; and such an observation as that -which a moment ago fell from your lips, might act most seriously to -the prejudice of an innocent man. I likewise am unacquainted with Mr. -Heathcote, otherwise than by name----” - -“And your lordship is well aware that his reputation is not the most -enviable in the world!” exclaimed the lady in an impassioned tone.” - -“I have never heard any definite charges against him, madam,” said -Trevelyan. - -“No--not positive charges which may fix him with the perpetration -of a special and particular deed of guilt,” she cried, as -if determined to level her suspicions against the attorney: -“but your lordship has doubtless heard a thousand vague -accusations--usury--extortion--grinding down the poor to the very -dust--hurrying on law proceedings with merciless haste--unrelentingly -sweeping away the property of his victims----” - -“All these charges I have certainly heard, madam,” said Trevelyan; “but -I will not admit that they warrant the darkest, blackest suspicion -which one human being can possibly entertain towards another. -Understand me, madam--I have no motive in defending James Heathcote, -beyond the true English principle of never judging a person through -the medium of prejudices. For your satisfaction I will call upon Mr. -Heathcote to-morrow--I will speak to him relative to the mysterious -disappearance of his brother--I will hear his replies--I will even -watch his countenance and observe his manner as he speaks. And believe -me, madam,” proceeded the young nobleman, emphatically,--“believe me -when I assure you that if there should transpire the least cause of -suspicion--if there should appear aught to warrant the belief that -James Heathcote could have possibly practised or instigated foul play -in respect to his brother,--believe me, madam, I repeat, that I will -pursue the investigation--I will leave no stone unturned--I will -prosecute my inquiries until I shall have brought home that deep guilt -to his door. But not for an instant--no, not for a single moment can I -believe----” - -“Act as you have said, my lord--and, depend upon it, you will find in -the sequel that my opinions are not so unjust--so uncalled for--so -reprehensible, as you now conceive them to be. But, oh!” exclaimed the -lady, clasping her hands wildly together,--“it is terrible--terrible -even for a moment to entertain the idea that he whom I love so -devotedly may be no more!” - -“Compose yourself, madam--tranquillise your feelings, I implore you!” -cried Lord William Trevelyan. “We must not give way to despair--we must -not harbour the dreadful thought that Sir Gilbert Heathcote has met -with foul play, and that he ceases to exist. No--no: let us hope----” - -“Oh! my lord, how can we hope in the face of such strange--such -mysterious--such suspicious circumstances?” demanded the lady, with -mingled grief and bitterness. “Even if he did not choose to acquaint -his friends with his intended absence and its motives, he would not -be equally reserved towards me. No--he would have seen me ere his -departure--or he would at least have written. For you must now learn, -my lord, that we have loved each other for upwards of twenty years,” -she continued, in a low and plaintive tone. “For twenty years and more -have our hearts beat in unison;--and never--never was love so devoted -as ours! Alas! mine has been a strange and romantic life; and the -influence that has swayed all its incidents was that passion which the -worldly-minded treat so lightly. For my father was a worldly-minded -man; and, though he knew how fondly I loved and how ardently I was -beloved,--though I knelt before him and conjured him by all he held -most sacred, and by the spirit of my mother who died in my childhood, -not to sacrifice me to the object of _his_ choice, and tear me away -from the object of _mine_,--nevertheless, he ridiculed my prayers--he -made naught of my beseechings--and I was immolated upon the altar of a -parent’s sordid interest. Your lordship has perhaps already understood -that the _one_ whom I adored was Gilbert Heathcote. Never--never was -love’s tale told with more enchanting sweetness than by his lips: -never--never did woman cherish more devotedly than I that avowal of -a sincere passion! At that time his personal beauty was sufficient -to ensnare the heart of any maiden, though far less susceptible than -mine;--and I loved him--loved him madly. But a wealthy noble had seen -me; and my father beheld with joy the impression that I had been so -unfortunate as to make upon that patrician’s fancy. Moreover, at that -period, my sire was suffering cruel pecuniary embarrassments; and the -brilliant marriage which he hoped to accomplish for his daughter, -appeared the only means of extricating himself from his difficulties. -Thus the suit of the nobleman was encouraged by my father--and I was -induced by the menaces, the prayers, and the specious reasoning which -he employed by turns to move me,--I was induced, I say, to tolerate -the visits of the peer, although heaven knows I never could encourage -them. Not that his personal appearance was disagreeable--nor that I -paused to reflect that his age was more than double my own: no--for he -was handsome--very handsome; and, though his years were twice mine, yet -he was but in the prime of life. Wherefore, then, did I receive his -addresses with loathing?--wherefore did I implore my father to save -me from an alliance which was so desirable and so brilliant in every -worldly point of view? Oh! it was because my heart was irrevocably -given to another--because Gilbert Heathcote possessed all my love!” - -The lady paused, and wiped away the tears which so many varied -reminiscences had wrung from her eyes,--while profound sobs convulsed -her bosom. - -Lord William Trevelyan felt the embarrassment and awkwardness of his -position; for it was now past midnight--and he began to reflect that -his servants might look suspiciously upon the fact of this protracted -visit on the part of a lady who was still young enough, and certainly -handsome enough to afford food for scandalous tongues. Not that Lord -William was either a rigid saint or a stern anchorite in respect to -the female sex: but, although unmarried, he behaved with the utmost -circumspection, and would never have outraged decency so far as to -make his own abode the place of an intrigue or gallant _rendezvous_. -Moreover, the love which he entertained for Agnes Vernon had exercised -such a purifying--such a chastening influence upon his soul, that he -shrank from the idea of compromising himself by any real impropriety, -or of becoming compromised by means of any indiscretion which scandal -might think fit to attribute to him. - -The lady was however too much absorbed in her own thoughts and emotions -to mark how rapidly time was slipping away, or to reflect upon the -imprudence of prolonging her visit. Her feelings were painfully -excited, not only by the fears which she entertained on account of the -absence of Sir Gilbert Heathcote--but likewise by the reminiscences -which had been stirred up in her soul, and the outpouring of which to -sympathetic ears seemed a necessary vent for a bosom so full of sorrow. - -“Yes, my lord,” she resumed, after a short pause, her voice still being -characterised by a tone of the most touching melancholy; “my father -forced me into that hated marriage--and though I gained rank and a -proud position, yet hope and happiness appeared to have forsaken me -for ever. But I cannot tell you all,” she exclaimed, hastily, as if a -sudden thought had struck her, warning her that she was about to be led -by her feelings into revelations of a nature which she would repent, or -which would at least be unbecoming and injudicious. - -“Madam,” said Lord William, emphatically,--“I do not seek your -confidence--I do not even desire it: but you have to do with a man of -honour, by whom everything you may impart, whether with premeditation -or unguardedly, will be held as sacred.” - -“I thank your lordship for this kind assurance,” observed the -lady. “Do not imagine that I wish to force you into becoming the -depositary of my secrets, in order to establish a species of claim -upon your friendship. No--my lord: I am not selfish--neither am I an -intriguer,--only a most unhappy--a most unfortunate woman! But it -is because you have manifested some little interest in me--because -you have so generously promised to aid me in clearing up the mystery -which surrounds the sudden disappearance of one so dear to me,--it -is for these reasons, my lord, that I am anxious to explain so much -of the circumstances of my connexion with _him_, as will convince -you that nothing but the sincerest affection on my part could have -placed me in a position which the world generally would regard with -scorn. I have told your lordship how, loving Gilbert Heathcote, I was -forced into a most inauspicious marriage with another: but the name of -_that other_ I need not mention. My father saw, when it was too late, -that he had indeed sacrificed my happiness on the altar of his own -selfishness; and he died of remorse--of a broken heart! My husband--my -noble husband--was kind and generous towards me: but I could not love -him--and he knew it. Then he grew jealous--and other circumstances,” -she added, casting down her eyes and blushing deeply, “embittered our -lives. At length--or, I should rather say, at the expiration of a few -short years, I fled from him--fled from the husband who had been forced -upon me--and sought refuge with the object of my heart’s sole and -undivided affection. From that moment I have dwelt under the protection -of Sir Gilbert Heathcote,--dwelt in the strictest privacy--happy in the -possession of his love--a love which, as well as my own, has known no -diminution with the lapse of years. To one of your generous soul--of -your enlightened mind, my position may not appear so degrading--so -humiliating, as it would to one incapable of distinguishing between the -heart’s irresistible affection and a mere sensual depravity. Pardon me, -my lord, for having thus obtruded this slight, and, I fear, rambling -sketch, upon your notice: but I could not endure the conviction that I -must appear in your eyes to be nothing more nor less than the pensioned -mistress of your friend. The length of time that _his_ love for me has -endured, may be alone sufficient to persuade you that I am not to be -confounded amidst the common mass of female degradation and immorality.” - -“Madam, I thank you for this explanation--and I comprehend all -the delicacy and peculiarity of your position,” said Lord William -Trevelyan, rising from his seat, the lady herself having set the -example--for it now struck her that she had remained until a very late -hour. - -“You will pardon me, my lord,” she said, “for having thus occupied -so much of your time. But I know you to be one of Sir Gilbert’s best -friends--indeed, the one of whom he was principally accustomed to -speak, and whom he loved and relied upon the most. May I hope that you -will favour me with a communication, so soon as you shall have seen -Mr. James Heathcote? Although, in virtue of my marriage, I bear a proud -and a great name, yet for years and years have I been known only as -Mrs. Sefton--and by that appellation must I be known to you.” - -The lady then mentioned her address in Kentish Town; and, extending her -hand to the young nobleman, renewed her thanks for the kindness which -he had shown her. - -He offered to escort her to her home: but this she declined with a -firmness, at the same time in such delicate terms, as to convince -him that she would neither compromise herself, nor allow him to be -compromised by a courtesy which he could not well have refrained from -proposing, although he might not have been well pleased to carry it -into effect. - -He promised to call upon her as soon as he had anything important to -communicate; and Mrs. Sefton then took her departure, Trevelyan ringing -the bell in order that the servant might attend her to the door, so -that there should be nothing clandestine nor stealthy in the appearance -of the visit. - -When Trevelyan was once more alone, he threw himself in an arm-chair, -and gave way to his reflections--for the evening’s adventure had, in -all its details, furnished ample food for thought. In the first place, -there was the strange--the unaccountable disappearance of Sir Gilbert -Heathcote--a man to whom the young patrician was much attached, and -whose friendship he valued highly. Then, in spite of the remonstrances -which he had addressed to Mrs. Sefton, he found suspicions existing in -his mind relative to James Heathcote--suspicions of a nature which he -dared not attempt to define even in the secresy of his own soul; but -which nevertheless every moment grew stronger, vague though they were. -Next, he pondered upon the particulars of the slight autobiographical -sketch the lady had given him; and he dwelt with a yet unsubdued -surprise on the fact that his friend Sir Gilbert had maintained, -for so long a time and entirely unsuspected, a connexion that fully -accounted for his bachelor-life. Lastly, Trevelyan meditated upon the -course which he must adopt to discover the baronet’s fate, unless he -should speedily re-appear and relieve from their cruel suspense and -uncertainty those who were interested in him. - -The young nobleman felt not the slightest inclination to retire to -rest, although it was now one o’clock in the morning. The adventures of -the evening had excited and unsettled him;--but having pondered on the -various topics above enumerated, his thoughts insensibly reverted to -his beloved Agnes. - -Suddenly his eyes caught the portfolio that he had left upon the table; -and, opening it, he took forth the portrait of the Recluse of the -Cottage. But, ah! why did he start?--what did he see? - -Rising from his chair, he held the picture in such a manner that the -light gave him a perfect view of it: and, sure enough--beyond all -possibility of mistake--there was a mark upon the dress,--a spot, as if -a drop of water--perhaps a tear--had fallen upon it. - -What could this mean?--how could such an accident have happened? - -Again and again he looked,--looked steadfastly--earnestly; and the -longer he gazed, the more convinced did he become that his eyes did not -deceive him--that he saw aright--and that the stain or the spot was -there! - -Yet he had not noticed it when, after Mrs. Mortimer’s departure, and -previous to Mrs. Sefton’s arrival, he had so long and so ardently -contemplated that portrait. No: the mark was not there _then_; or -else he--the lover, devouring the entire portrait,--he, the artist, -scrutinising with satisfaction every minute detail of his own -drawing,--oh! yes--he could not have failed to observe the slightest -speck--the least, least spot that marred the general effect of that -pleasing delineation! - -Was it possible, then, that Mrs. Sefton had inspected the portfolio? -Yes--such a supposition was natural enough. She was left alone in that -room for nearly two hours; and, in spite of her sorrow, the time must -have seemed so irksome to her as to induce her to have recourse to -any means to while it away, if not to divert her thoughts into a less -melancholy channel. - -Yes--yes: he had divined the truth now, no doubt! At least such was -his idea;--and then the tear--oh! It was easily accounted for. She -was overwhelmed with grief at the mysterious and alarming absence of -the man whom she loved; and she was weeping while she turned over the -contents of the portfolio. - -“Well--it is no matter,” thought Trevelyan, as he arrived at these -conclusions: “It would have been far worse had the tear fallen on the -face of the portrait,--for I might labour for hours--nay, for days, -without being enabled to catch and delineate so faithfully again -that sweet expression of countenance which Agnes wears, and which I -have succeeded in conveying to my paper. But the mark is upon the -dress--and a single touch with the brush will repair the injury. Alas! -poor woman,” he added, in his musings, and alluding to Mrs. Sefton, -“you have indeed enough to weep for, if you have lost all you love on -earth--and, even had you spoilt the portrait altogether, I would have -forgiven you!” - -Trevelyan now returned the drawing to the portfolio, which he conveyed -to the little room adjoining; and then, retracing his way into the -parlour, he approached the mantel-piece to take the letter which he had -written to Agnes. - -But he was astounded--stupified by the conviction which burst upon him -that the letter was gone! - -Gone!--it might have dropped upon the floor--on the rug--in the fender? -No:--vainly did he search--uselessly did he pry into every nook and -corner he could think of;--the letter had disappeared! - -He rang the bell furiously. - -“Did any one enter this room during my absence just now, and while -that lady was here?” he demanded of the domestic, who responded to the -summons. - -“No, my lord,” was the answer. - -“You are certain?” said Trevelyan, with interrogative emphasis. - -“I am positive, my lord,” replied the man; then, after a pause, he -observed, “I hope nothing unpleasant has occurred, my lord?” - -“Yes--no--you may retire,” said the nobleman, abstractedly; and, when -the domestic had left the room, he threw himself into a chair, overcome -with amazement and grief at the mysterious circumstance that had -occurred. - -[Illustration] - -Could Mrs. Sefton have taken the letter? No: the idea was ridiculous. -She was too much absorbed in her own sorrows to have leisure for the -gratification of an idle and impertinent curiosity. Besides, was she -a common thief?--for, let a lady be possessed with ever so prying a -disposition, she would not carry her mania to such a point as to steal -a letter--a sealed letter--unless she were absolutely dishonest and -unprincipled. Surely this could not be the character of the woman whom -he had seen in such deep affliction that evening,--a woman who was -assuredly what she had represented herself to be, and whose appearance, -manners, and language all forbade the idea that she was an abandoned -wretch. - -“No--I wrong her by entertaining such an injurious suspicion even for -an instant!” thought Lord William, when those reflections had passed -through his brain. “It is impossible that this afflicted lady can have -taken my letter. Besides, had she done so, would she have waited until -my return? And again, of what use--of what benefit could the letter be -to her?” - -He glanced around, and beheld several articles of value lying about -in their accustomed places. He had gone out in such a hurry that he -had left a purse containing gold upon the mantel--and, remembering the -precise amount, he reckoned it and found it to be correct. Lying upon -the table was a splendid gold seal, which he had used in closing the -letter that was now missed:--in fine, there were numerous objects, -either costly or curious, which an ill-disposed person might have -self-appropriated, but all of which had been left untouched. - -How, then, was it possible to suppose that Mrs. Sefton had purloined -the letter? - -Nevertheless, it had disappeared; and therefore some one must have -taken it?--or else some accident must have happened whereby it was lost? - -Trevelyan racked his brain to discover whether it was possible that he -himself had removed it from the mantel after he had placed it there: -but he felt assured that during the interval which elapsed between -the writing of that letter and the arrival of Mrs. Sefton, he had not -quitted the apartment. - -The affair was most mysterious: nay--it was also alarming;--for how -could he possibly account for the disappearance of a sealed letter? If -it had indeed been taken by an ill-disposed person, the contents might -be made known--perhaps to the prejudice of his suit with Agnes. But he -was assured that no one had entered the room during his absence;--and -he was so reluctant to fix the deed on Mrs. Sefton, and had so many -reasons against such a supposition, that he became equally confident -she was in no way connected with the strange occurrence. - -At length he reasoned himself into the belief that he must have -deposited the letter in some place which he could not recollect; and, -as he had in the first instance made a rough draught, he resolved to -write a fair copy all over again. This was soon accomplished; and, -having sealed and addressed it, he took the new letter with him to his -own bed-chamber, so that he might retain it in security until Mrs. -Mortimer should call for it in the morning. - -It was past two o’clock when Lord William retired to rest; but, though -much fatigued, he could not immediately close his eyes in slumber. The -affair of the letter haunted him--filled him with vague and undefined -misgivings--and assumed an aspect the more mysterious, the longer he -contemplated it. He endeavoured to persuade himself that the belief to -which he had ere now temporarily lulled his mind was the real solution -of the theory: but then would come the evidence of memory, proclaiming -that he _had_ placed the letter on the mantel in the parlour, and that -he had _not_ touched it afterwards. - -In fine, he was bewildered amidst a variety of conflicting -thoughts--and his brain grew wearied with the agitation which their -jarring contention produced,--so that at length sleep stole upon him -insensibly: but though it sealed his eyes in slumber, it did not -protect him against the troubled dreams that visited his pillow. - -At about nine o’clock in the morning he was awakened by the entrance of -his valet, who came to inform him that Mrs. Mortimer had called for a -letter which was to be in readiness for her. - -Trevelyan started up and glanced anxiously towards the night-table, -almost dreading lest that second _billet_ should have disappeared as -well as the first:--but it was there in safety--and he now desired his -dependant to deliver it to Mrs. Mortimer. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXVII. - -THE LAWYER. - - -Mr. James Heathcote, the attorney, was seated at a writing-table -covered with papers, in his private office. He was wrapped in a loose -dressing-gown, and his feet were thrust into large buff slippers. His -grey hair was uncombed and his beard unshaven that morning; and his -shirt was none of the cleanest. Indeed, his appearance denoted that, on -awakening, he had risen hastily, thrown on a few clothes, and repaired -straight to his office, where he immediately became absorbed in the -study of certain documents in which he was deeply interested. - -The countenance of this individual was by no means pleasing. A -malignant light shone in his small, restless, dark eyes; and he had -a habit, when vexed or irritated, of frowning--or rather contracting -his brow to such a degree, that he brought them as it were to cover -his very eye-lids: but, if pleased--especially when he had solved a -difficult question or was struck by an idea that seemed particularly -lucid or valuable--he would then elevate his brows to such a height -that the movement displayed the whites all round his eyes, while the -upper part of his forehead gathered into innumerable small wrinkles. - -A superficial observer would have pronounced the expression of his -pale features to be intellectual: but a more experienced phrenologist -would be enabled to draw the proper distinction between an air of noble -intelligence and one of profound cunning, shrewdness, and selfish -watchfulness. These latter qualities were the real characteristics of -James Heathcote: but with his clerks, and amongst the generality of his -clients, he passed as a man of very fine intellect and great talents. - -The room in which he was seated had what is usually called “a -business-like air” about it. The grey drugget that covered the -door would have sustained no harm from a vigorous application of a -carpet-broom; and the window, which looked into a little yard at the -back of the house, might have lost much of its dinginess if only -cleaned once a week. But the panes appeared as if they had been -purposely tinged a dirty yellow, so incrusted were they with the dust -that had gathered upon them. - -On one side of the room were rows of shelves containing a number of -law-books, the relative ages of which were marked by the colour of the -leather binding--there being a perfect ascending scale, from the bright -buff, indicating the most recent purchase, to the deepest, dirtiest -brown that characterised the long-standing and well-thumbed volume of -remote date. Along the edges of these shelves were nailed long slips of -dark-green serge--a meagre kind of drapery meant to protect the upper -part of the volumes from the dust, and impart to the whole arrangement -somewhat of the air of a regular book-case. - -On another side of the room were rows of shelves much deeper and -also much wider apart; and on these were huge japanned tin boxes, -with names painted on them in yellow letters. To every box there was -a little padlock; and the whole seemed to tell of title-deeds to -vast estates--and mortgages--and bonds--and charges--and rent-rolls, -contained in those sombre-looking repositories. But, alas! how few of -the persons whose names were still recorded on the outside of those -boxes, had any longer an interest in the deeds preserved within: how -many had lodged their parchments in those usurious chests, never to -recover them! - -Over the mantel-piece was a portrait of Lord Eldon--a lawyer whom -thousands and thousands were doomed to curse, but whom the “profession” -still continues to cry up as the greatest of modern judges. Yes--for if -clients complain of the law’s delays, the lawyers themselves rejoice; -and he who is an execrable judge in respect to the former, is an -admirable one in the eyes of the latter. - -Stuck into the frame of that portrait was an infinite number of -visitors’ cards, all covered with dust, as if that assemblage of -bits of pasteboard were something sacred which the profane hand of a -housemaid or charwoman dared not touch. On the mantel itself was an -old time-piece, the mechanism of which was exposed; and how the wheels -could move at all, clogged with dust as they were, must have appeared -marvellous to any one who, entering that room, gave himself the trouble -to devote a thought to the matter. - -We have already stated that the table was covered with papers. Along -that side opposite to the one at which the lawyer sate, were piles of -those documents, all tied up in the usual fashion with tape that once -was red, but which was now so faded that in many instances it was of -a dirty white. They seemed to have been undisturbed for a long, long -time; and perhaps were kept for show. Those papers that referred to -matters actually pending, were placed more conveniently within the -attorney’s reach, and were fresher in appearance, the tape also being -of a livelier red. Three or four files, two feet long, and covered -with letters densely packed one above another, lay upon the drugget; -and near the lawyer’s feet was a waste-basket overflowing with letters -crumpled up, and looking uncommonly like appeals for mercy and delay on -the part of unfortunate debtors, but which had been tossed with cool -contempt into that receptacle for all such useless applications! - -It was now ten o’clock in the morning; and Mr. James Heathcote was, -as we have represented, completely absorbed in the study of the -documents that lay spread before him upon the table. A thin, yellow -hand supported his head; and every now and then he ran his long fingers -through his iron-grey hair, as if that action aided him in the solution -of a difficult subject. - -Presently a low and timid knock at the door fell on the lawyer’s ears; -and he said “Come in” without raising his head or desisting from his -occupation. - -Thereupon a middle-aged man, dressed in a suit of rusty black--his -office garb--made his appearance, holding in his hand a long thin book -which was the diary of the business-proceedings of the establishment. -This individual had a pale, sinister countenance, with brown hair -combed sleekly down over his low forehead. He was, however, an -important personage in many respects--being Mr. Heathcote’s head clerk, -and exercising despotic sway over half-a-dozen subordinates in the -front office. With them and towards poor clients or unfortunate debtors -he was cold--stern--harsh--and inexorable; but in the presence of his -employer he was cringing--mean--sycophantic--and spaniel-like. - -Advancing slowly and with noiseless steps--or rather creeping up -towards the table, he stood in a respectful attitude--no, with a -servile demeanour and in deep silence until it should please his master -to take notice of him. - -“Well, Green--what have you to say to me this morning?” at length -demanded Mr. Heathcote, raising his head and throwing himself back in -his capacious arm-chair. - -“Gregson the upholsterer, sir, cannot meet the third instalment due -this day on his warrant-of-attorney for eight hundred pounds,” said Mr. -Green, referring to the diary; “but he called just now and told me that -if you would give him till next Monday----” - -“Not an hour, Green,” interrupted Mr. Heathcote, imperiously. “Let -execution issue. He has enough property to satisfy the greater -portion--and, as his brother-in-law is his security, we shall slap at -him without delay for the residue. He is a toiling, striving man, and -will beat up amongst his friends to raise the necessary amount by the -time we have run him up some twenty pounds’ costs. What is the next?” - -“Sir Thomas Skeffington’s bill for five hundred pounds comes due -to-day, sir,” continued the head clerk; “and he proposes to renew it.” - -“Let me see?” mused Mr. Heathcote. “It was originally two hundred -pounds that I lent this young spendthrift baronet; and he has already -renewed six times. Well--let him give another bill--for five hundred -and fifty, mind--don’t forget to tack on the fifty, Green. His uncle -will pay the debt eventually--it is all safe. Go on.” - -“Thompson, sir, the defendant in Jones’s case, has let judgment go -by default,” continued Mr. Green: “he says that he would do anything -rather than run up expenses; and he has been here this morning to beg -and implore that time may be granted. His wife has just been confined, -and his eldest child is at the point of death. The debt is a hundred -and eleven pounds with costs--and he proposes to pay it at five pounds -a week.” - -“No such thing!” exclaimed Mr. Heathcote, almost savagely. “Let him go -to prison! He will be writing imploring letters, and his father-in-law -will call to make terms. Those letters and visits, Green, will be -another six or seven pounds in my pocket: and _then_ we will let him -out on his warrant-of-attorney to pay the five pounds a-week. It is -always better to send a man in his case to prison first, although you -mean all the time to accede to his proposal in the long run. He is an -industrious, enterprising fellow--and his father-in-law is a highly -respectable man. So he will not knock up for this little affair. Go on.” - -“Beale’s wife called last evening, sir,” resumed Mr. Green, “and -says that her husband is lying in a sad state in the infirmary at -Whitecross-street prison. She and her children are starving--and she -begs you for the love of God to let her husband out. It is their only -chance; and he will pay you when he can.” - -“When he can!” exclaimed Mr. Heathcote, in bitter contempt. “And that -will be _never_. I am surprised, Mr. Green, that you should have -bothered me with such a trifle, instead of telling the woman at once -that her husband may rot in gaol until he pays me every farthing.” - -“I should not have thought of troubling you, sir, in the matter,” -observed the clerk, in a tone of servile contrition; “only the woman -did seem so very, very miserable--and she cried so bitterly--and she -had a young child that looked half-famished in her arms----” - -“And you pitied her, I suppose?” interrupted Mr. Heathcote, in a tone -of cool irony. “You have been in my service for twelve years to some -purpose.” - -“Pray forgive me, sir: but--but--I happen to know that Beale’s wife and -family are really starving,” said the clerk, whose heart was a trifle -less hardened than that of his master. - -“Let them starve!” rejoined the latter, with an air of brutal -indifference. “Now, what have you next upon your list?” - -“William Fox, the ironmonger, sir, has called a meeting of his -creditors,” resumed Mr. Green, now regretting that he should have -allowed himself to be carried away by a scintillation of humane feeling -so far as to merit a rebuke at Mr. Heathcote’s hands. - -“Well--I know that,” observed the lawyer. “But _I_ never attend -meetings of creditors--_I_ never accept compositions, Mr. Green. But -has the fellow been here? and what does he say?” - -“It appears, sir, that he laid a full and complete account of his -affairs before his creditors,” continued the clerk; “and that they -were well satisfied with the statement. He showed them that his -embarrassments arose from no fault of his own, but simply from the -failure of a large house in Birmingham.” - -“And what did he offer?” demanded Mr. Heathcote. - -“He asked for two years to pay off all his liabilities,” was the -answer. “He did not propose a composition, but will settle everything -in full. His brother has offered to become security for him.” - -“Well, he must pay me at once--within twenty-four hours--or I shall -sign judgment, Green,” exclaimed the lawyer. “Or stop--it will be -better to sign judgment at once, and issue execution. I shall then, -get my money directly--and his other creditors may wait the two years. -If he calls again to-day, tell him that I am out--and mind and have a -seizure in his house by the evening.” - -“It shall be done, sir,” said the head clerk: then, again referring -to the diary, he proceeded thus:--“You remember that affair of -Williamson, sir? He called and left seventy-two pounds the other -evening to take up his bill, which had been sent back; and as you were -out at the time, he could not have the bill delivered over to him. I -offered him a receipt for the money: but he left it without taking any -acknowledgment--saying, ‘_Oh! I can trust to your honour_,’--or words -to that effect. Well, sir, he has called two or three times since for -the bill----” - -“Do the other clerks know that he paid the money?” demanded Mr. -Heathcote, fixing his keen eyes significantly upon Green. - -“No, sir,” was the answer, accompanied by a look of intelligence -showing that the man comprehended his master’s meaning. “They were all -gone--and I was just on the point of leaving likewise when Williamson -called.” - -“Then issue a writ this very day for the recovery of the amount,” said -the lawyer. “Of course, Green, you will know nothing at all about -having received the money from him?” - -“Of course not, sir,” replied the clerk. - -“And should he go to trial, you will swear that he never paid you?” -continued the lawyer, speaking with the imperious authority of a man -who knew that the other was in his power. - -“It would not be the first time, sir, that I have perjured----” - -“Well--well!” cried Mr. Heathcote, hastily; for though he did not mind -suborning his clerk to commit a crime, yet he did not like to have the -deed designated in plain terms and exhibited to his eyes in all its -dreadful nakedness and reality. “Let this be done, Green: and take a -guinea for yourself--charging it in the office-expenses of the week. -You are a faithful servant--and I am pleased with you,” he added, in a -patronising manner. - -“I am truly grateful, sir, for your kindness and for your good -opinion,” said the clerk, with a low bow: but at the same time he -was compelled to stifle the sigh that rose to his very lips at the -idea of being so dependent upon his master, and so enthralled by -circumstances as to be compelled to submit to be made the tool--the -base instrument--the despicable agent of that master’s hidden villany. - -“Have you anything more in the diary?” demanded Mr. Heathcote. - -“Nothing, sir,” responded the clerk: “unless it be that the two doctors -are to call to-day for the second halves of the reward promised them -for signing the certificate.” - -“Good! pay them each immediately, the affair having been attended with -complete success,” said the lawyer: “and indeed, you may give them each -five guineas beyond the sum originally promised.” - -“It shall be done, sir,” returned Mr. Green. “Have you any farther -commands?” - -“I am at a loss how to proceed with respect to that woman,” said Mr. -Heathcote, his brows lowering in token of vexation, while at the same -time he ran his skinny fingers through his wiry hair. - -“You mean Mrs. Sefton, sir?” said the clerk. - -“Mrs. Sefton--as she calls herself,” observed Mr. Heathcote, with a -grim smile. “Ah! little thought Gilbert,” he continued in a musing, -but also triumphant tone, “that for years past I have known all -and everything connected with him! Little did he imagine that his -_liaison_--his amour with that lady was no secret to me, secure and -safe as he deemed it to be from all the world! But what am I do with -regard to her, Green?” he demanded, as he abruptly turned towards the -clerk, who stood like a menial in his presence. - -“Your wisdom, sir, can doubtless suggest some plan,” was the -sycophantic reply. “Do you imagine that she is likely to be dangerous?” - -“She loves my brother, Green,” answered the lawyer: “she entertains for -him that passion which never has warmed my breast--and never shall,” -he continued, in a contemptuous tone. “Oh! how I hate the very name -of love! It is a sickly sentimentalism--a maudlin feeling, which is -derogatory to the character of a man of the world, but which makes a -woman dangerous indeed, when the object of her passion is outraged -or wronged. Yes, Green--I do fear this Mrs. Sefton, as we will call -her--since thus she chooses to denominate herself: I do consider her -to be dangerous--and I know that she is of an intrepid, resolute -character. She will leave no stone unturned to have what she will call -_justice_ done towards my brother; and by some means must I take from -her the power of doing me an injury.” - -“And those means, sir?” asked the clerk, timidly. - -“I have thought of many plans, Green,” replied Mr. Heathcote: “but -not one appears to be sufficiently decisive to meet the exigencies of -the case. Could I only get her out of the country, or else have her -locked up in some place of security, for a few weeks, I should in that -interval have all my schemes so effectually carried out, as to be able -to defy not only that woman, but likewise all the world.” - -“And is it so very difficult, sir, to encompass one or the other of the -two aims you have mentioned?” inquired Green. - -“On what pretence can I imprison her?” demanded Mr. Heathcote, -impatiently. “But I _might_ be able to induce her to quit the country,” -he added, in a more measured tone, and with a steadfast look at his -clerk--a look which seemed to say, “Can I trust you?” - -“Is there any way, sir, wherein my humble services will avail?” asked -the man, thoroughly understanding the intent of that look. - -“Yes--on you must I rely in this matter,” said the lawyer, after a -few minutes’ deep cogitation. “Mr. Green,” continued Heathcote, again -fixing on him his small, malignant, soul-reading eyes, “you will -excuse me for a moment if I recall the past to your recollection----” - -“But why, sir--why!” exclaimed the clerk, his pale face suddenly -becoming paler still and his limbs trembling convulsively. - -“Because I choose,” returned his master, brutally: “because it suits my -present purpose to remind you how much you are in my power.” - -The wretched clerk moaned audibly, but uttered not another word. - -“Twelve years ago, Mr. Green,” resumed Heathcote, with deep emphasis -and in a measured tone, as if he were determined that not a syllable -which he intended to say should be lost on the unhappy man who was -thus undergoing a painful--agonising infliction,--“twelve years ago, -Mr. Green, you were an attorney in practice for yourself. An accident, -the particulars of which it is not necessary for me to recite, made me -acquainted with a fact which placed you entirely at my mercy. You and -a gentleman named Clarence Villiers had been left the joint guardians -of a boy then a little more than eight years old; and a thousand -pounds were invested in the funds in the name of yourself and the said -Clarence Villiers. It had been agreed that you should be the acting -trustee. You wanted money--you forged the name of Clarence Villiers to -the necessary deed--and you sold out the thousand pounds.” - -The miserable clerk groaned again, more audibly than before: but his -master heeded not the intense agony his words inflicted. - -“Yes--you sold out the money, and appropriated it to your -purposes,” continued the remorseless attorney. “The fact came to my -knowledge,--and I offered to save you, on condition that you should -serve me--that you should devote yourself to me, body and soul--that -you should see only with my eyes, hear only with my ears, and use -your hands and your intellectual powers as I directed. I required a -person of this description: I was looking out for such an one at the -moment when accident thus placed you in my power. We soon came to -terms. You gave up a business that was not worth retaining--and you -became my head clerk. I have paid you two guineas a week with the most -scrupulous regularity--and I have often made you little presents, as -even this very morning have I done. But what more have I been generous -enough to do for you? Why--I have regularly paid the interest of the -thousand pounds for you, as if it were still in the Bank of England; -and your ward suspects not that his capital is gone. Neither does your -co-trustee Clarence Villiers suspect it, Mr. Green,” added Heathcote, -emphatically. “But in six weeks’ time, the youth will have completed -his twenty-first year; and he will apply to Mr. Villiers and yourself -for his thousand pounds. Mr. Villiers will ask to accompany you to -the Bank to make over the money in due form--for Mr. Villiers is an -honourable man. But the money will not be there--unless I replace it -for you, and thus save you from transportation for life!” - -“And you have promised that you will replace it, kind sir--you have -undertaken to save me from exposure, degradation, and punishment!” -exclaimed the clerk, his voice and manner becoming almost wild in the -earnestness of their appeal. - -“Yes--and I will keep my word, Green,” responded Heathcote. “If I have -now recapitulated circumstances which are necessarily so indelibly -stamped upon your memory, it was merely to convince you that I have -it in my power to save you from a terrible fate--or to crush you as -I would a viper beneath my heel. We shall not be the worse friends -because we understand our relative positions; and mark me--never, never -would I place myself in the power of a man unless he were ten thousand -times more entangled in my meshes than I could possibly be in his.” - -“Surely--surely, sir, you do not suspect my fidelity?” said the clerk, -the workings of whose pale countenance were dreadful to behold; -“surely you do not think that I should be ungrateful or mad enough to -breathe a word to your prejudice? If you have done much for me, sir, -I have served you faithfully; and this I can assert without fear of -contradiction. I am ever at your disposal--ever in readiness to obey -your commands, without questioning their propriety.” - -“All this I know, my friend,” said Heathcote, his brows now elevating -themselves with triumph; for he saw that the trembling wretch before -him was docile, pliant, and obedient as a deaf and dumb slave following -the signals made by an oriental despot: “all this I know,” repeated -the lawyer;--“but there is no harm in occasionally setting forth the -grounds on which our connexion is based. This being accomplished in the -present instance, we may at once revert to the business that we have -now in hand.” - -“Relative to Mrs. Sefton, sir?” remarked Green, anxious to convince his -master that he was mindful of the grave and important interests now -involved in connexion with that lady’s name. - -“Yes--relative to Mrs. Sefton,” said Heathcote. “I have already -observed that there are only two ways of dealing with her: either to -lock her up in a place of security for a time, or to get her out of the -country. The latter alternative must be adopted; and it is for you to -play a part which, if ingeniously enacted, cannot fail of success.” - -Mr. Green placed himself in an attitude of deep attention--for all this -while, as the reader will observe, he had remained standing, his master -never desiring him to be seated, however long their conference might -last. - -“The impatience of this Mrs. Sefton is doubtless growing intolerable,” -continued the lawyer: “a week has now passed since Sir Gilbert -disappeared--and she will speedily initiate active measures to -discover what has become of him. There is not therefore another moment -to lose;--and her own affection shall be made the means of which -we will avail ourselves in order to baffle and defeat her. Do you -repair at once to Kentish Town and seek an interview with her. She -does not know you--she never saw you: she will suspect nothing--but -believe everything. You will tell her that you have just arrived from -Liverpool--that you are an intimate friend of Sir Gilbert--and that -he has embarked for America, in consequence of serious pecuniary -embarrassments. You must assure her that those embarrassments came on -him so suddenly, menacing his person with arrest--and that he was so -bewildered and excited by the danger and disgrace which thus threatened -him, that he fled without having time to communicate even with her. -You will then go on to say that he sent you up to London to break -these news to her--to supply her with money--and to implore her to -hasten after Sir Gilbert, whom she will join at New York. All this must -you tell her;--and if you play your part properly, it is, as I have -already observed, certain to experience success.” - -“You may rely upon me, sir,” said the clerk. - -“All your presence of mind--all your readiness of invention--all your -impudence, will be requisite in the matter,” continued Heathcote: “for -Mrs. Sefton is an intelligent woman--and the least hesitation in giving -a reply to any of her questions, will assuredly awaken her suspicions, -and spoil all. But if you be wary and cautious, you must come off -triumphant. Believing that her connexion with Sir Gilbert is a profound -secret, she will at once receive you as a friend of her lover’s, from -the mere fact of your knowledge of their _liaison_: because she will -suppose that you could not have become aware of it, unless he had -in reality made you his confident. Then, again, the circumstance of -your being the bearer of fifty guineas--which I will presently give -you--as the means to defray the expenses of her voyage to New York, -will confirm all you have stated and give a complete colouring to all -your representations. Do you thoroughly understand me, Green?--and do -you consider yourself competent to undertake this mission?--for I can -assure you that it is of the highest importance for me to remove that -dangerous woman from England for a few weeks.” - -“I do not hesitate to charge myself with the enterprise, sir,” said -Green, meekly,--“delicate though its management may be;--and, should it -fail, it will be through no fault on my part.” - -“Then it will _not_ fail, sir!” cried Mr. Heathcote, emphatically. “And -now I will give you the money necessary for your purpose--and you must -accompany the lady to Liverpool, remember. If a packet be not about to -start immediately, then lodge her at an hotel, alleging that you are an -unmarried man as an apology for not inviting her to stay at your own -house until her departure. You can put up at another hotel. But all -these minor details I leave to your judgment and discretion.” - -Mr. Heathcote now placed a quantity of notes and some gold in the hands -of his clerk, who forthwith took leave of his wily master: ere he -departed, however, he stopped in the outer office to issue instructions -relative to the various matters entered in the diary. At length he -was ready to issue forth on the mission entrusted to him; but at that -moment a cab stopped at the door, and a tall, handsome, well-dressed -gentleman alighted. - -Entering the clerk’s office, the visitor inquired if Mr. Heathcote was -at home. - -“What name shall I say, sir?” asked Green. - -“That is of no consequence,” was the hasty reply: “my business is of -great importance.” - -“Walk in, then, if you please, sir,” said Green: and, having shown the -visitor into the lawyer’s private apartment, the head clerk was at -length enabled to hurry away to his own lodgings, in order to make some -change in his toilette ere he proceeded to Kentish Town. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXVIII. - -THE NOBLEMAN AND THE LAWYER. - -On entering into the presence of Mr. Heathcote, the handsome visitor -tendered his card; and the moment the lawyer cast his eyes upon it, -a cloud passed hastily over his countenance--for he knew that Lord -William Trevelyan, whose name appeared on that card, was an intimate -friend of Sir Gilbert. He however composed himself in an instant, and, -pointing to a chair, said, “Be seated, my lord.” - -The young nobleman accepted the invitation, and then observed, “I have -to apologise for intruding myself upon you----” - -“Not if you come on matters of business, my lord,” interrupted the -lawyer, in a tone which was intended to imply that his time was -nevertheless very precious. - -“I fear that you will scarcely consider my visit to be connected -with business in the sense you would have me infer,” said Trevelyan, -courteously: “at the same time, you will give me credit for the best -intentions----” - -“Pray, my lord, come to the point,” exclaimed Heathcote, impatiently. -“I have a vast amount of work upon my hands--several appointments to -keep--and my toilette not yet performed.” - -“In one word, sir,” said Trevelyan, “may I inquire if you have received -any tidings concerning your brother, who is a dear and valued friend of -mine?” - -“I have heard that my brother is absent, my lord,” answered Heathcote, -coldly: “but I have no control over his movements--and he is not in the -habit of consulting me respecting his actions.” - -“At the same time, sir----” - -“Pardon me, my lord: I have answered you--and I have not a moment to -spare.” - -“But as your brother’s friend, sir--his intimate friend----” - -“I do not know you, my lord: neither do I trouble myself with my -brother’s friendships.” - -These last words were uttered so rudely--almost brutally, that the -young nobleman’s countenance became the colour of scarlet, and he -felt that were the lawyer a man less advanced in years, he would have -knocked him down for his insolence. - -“I am aware, sir,” he said, subduing his indignation as well as he -was able, “that I have no claim upon your courtesy, beyond that which -social conventions establish: but I regret to find that you should -think it necessary to treat with such extreme incivility a person who -has never offended you.” - -“Then wherefore does your lordship force yourself into my presence, -and persist in remaining here, when I tell you that I am occupied with -serious matters?” demanded the lawyer, rising from his seat, while his -brows were bent in such a way as to render his countenance particularly -displeasing and sinister at that moment. - -“Serious matters, indeed!” ejaculated Lord William, also rising; “is it -not a serious matter that your brother--your own brother--has suddenly -disappeared----” - -“I have already told your lordship that I have no control over the -actions of Sir Gilbert Heathcote,” said the lawyer; “and I am not to -be forced into a discussion on any subject with one who is a complete -stranger to me.” - -“I repeat, sir, that I am your brother’s intimate friend,” cried the -young patrician, indignantly. - -“But I repeat, on my side, that you are no friend of mine--nor likely -to be,” responded Heathcote. “Will your lordship, therefore, leave me -to those pursuits which have better claims upon my time and attention?” - -“Better claims! And yet you must surely have some of the ordinary -feelings of human nature,” urged the nobleman, in a tone of mingled -remonstrance and earnest appeal. “One word more, if you please, sir,” -he continued, seeing that Heathcote was again about to interrupt him: -“this matter is becoming serious! For eight days has your brother been -missed from his place of abode and from the circle of his friends: -an investigation into so mysterious an occurrence must necessarily -take place--and without delay, too. What will the world think of you, -sir--_you_, the nearest living relative of one who may perhaps be no -more--if you refuse your co-operation in this endeavour to ascertain -what has become of him? I will even go farther, sir, and declare that a -certain degree of odium will attach itself to you----” - -“Young man, by what right do you thus insult me?” demanded the lawyer, -completely unabashed, and measuring Lord William Trevelyan from head to -foot with his keen, searching eyes. “Do you for a single instant dare -to assert that if my brother should have met with foul play--as your -words just now implied such a suspicion,--do you dare to assert, I ask, -that the world would couple the slightest imputation with my good name? -Though not of an aristocratic rank, my social position is an honourable -one; and such as it is, my own talents--my own energies--my own hard -toils, have made it. But because I can see nothing extraordinary in the -absence of a man who has no domestic ties to bind him to one place, -and who, acting upon a sudden caprice or fancy, may choose to depart -from the metropolis, perhaps,--because I behold nothing remarkable in -all this, am I to be reproached, vituperated, and even insulted by -you, who adopt another view of the matter? Why, my lord, you are far -more intimate with Sir Gilbert Heathcote than I, even though he is my -brother;--and what would you say, were I to repair to your house--force -myself into your presence--refuse to leave when solicited--and actually -level the most injurious language, amounting almost to positive -imputations, at your head? I appeal to your good sense, if you possess -any, to consider the impropriety of your conduct here this morning, and -to take your departure at once, before you irritate me more deeply than -you have already done.” - -“I have listened, sir, with respectful attention to all you have said,” -returned Lord William Trevelyan; “and I declare emphatically that I am -not satisfied with your reasoning. I impute nothing to you--because -I know not what suspicions to entertain in the case. I frankly -confess that I am bewildered, not only by the fact of my friend’s -unaccountable disappearance, but also by the manner in which you treat -that circumstance. You declare that you cannot bring yourself to look -seriously on this disappearance: surely it ought to alarm you, when I, -who am so well acquainted with your brother, solemnly aver that I have -particular reasons for knowing that he would _not_ leave the metropolis -in obedience to any sudden fancy or whim, without previously making a -communication in a certain quarter.” - -“To you, I presume?” said Heathcote, fixing his eyes searchingly upon -the patrician. - -“No--not to myself,” was the reply: “but to another.” - -“And that other?” observed the lawyer interrogatively: for he now began -to fear that Trevelyan alluded to Mrs. Sefton, in which case he might -repair straight to her abode after quitting that office--he might -there meet the clerk whom he had seen on his arrival just now--and he -might mar the entire scheme that had been concocted for the purpose of -inducing the lady to leave England. - -“Unless you yourself are acquainted with _that other person_ to whom I -alluded--or at least have some knowledge to whom I could so allude--I -am not at liberty to make any revelations,” observed Lord William. - -“Oh! this is admirable!” ejaculated the lawyer, reseating himself and -appearing no longer in a hurry to break off the conference: for he now -perceived the necessity of detaining the nobleman as long as possible, -so as to afford Green ample time to carry the deeply-concocted scheme -into effect. - -“You are pleased to be jocular at something, sir,” said Trevelyan, -biting his lip with vexation at an insolence which he could not -chastise: and leaning against the mantel-piece, he surveyed the -attorney with mingled anger and aversion. - -“Yes--I am jocular,” exclaimed the latter; “and I again declare that -your conduct is admirable! You come to me to aid you in investigating -what you are pleased to denominate a most mysterious occurrence; and, -by way of inducing me thus to co-operate, you yourself start fresh -mysteries, and make enigmatic allusions to unintelligible matters, -concerning which you refuse to enter into any explanations.” - -“There may be certain circumstances, sir, which a man of honour dares -not reveal,” said Lord William, sternly; “and such is the case in the -present instance.” - -“You have therefore a positive proof that Sir Gilbert’s friends were -more in his confidence than his own brother,” replied the lawyer, in a -sarcastic tone; “and this is tantamount to what I told you just now.” - -“Yes, sir--but the circumstances to which I allude have no reference -to the mysterious disappearance of Sir Gilbert Heathcote,” rejoined -Trevelyan; “nor do they in any way relieve you from your responsibility -as a brother.” - -“But, since you yourself are acquainted with some mysterious and -unmentionable circumstances connected with my brother,” said the -lawyer, still in a tone of bitter sarcasm, “I have much more reason to -accuse you of possessing a clue to the causes of his disappearance, -than you have to level the same charge at me. Now, from your words--for -I am a man of the world, my lord--I naturally infer that the _other -person_ to whom you so emphatically alluded, must be a lady----” - -“I did not say so, sir--I gave you no reason for entertaining such an -opinion,” exclaimed Trevelyan fearful of now compromising a matter of -great delicacy. - -“But I choose to think so,” said the lawyer, elevating his brows to an -extraordinary degree, while a malignant light gleamed in his restless -eyes: “and is it strange--is it unusual in the world, for a man to -absent himself suddenly and even mysteriously, in order to break off a -connexion of which he is wearied, and which no longer has any charms -for him?” - -“One word, sir,” interjected Trevelyan, annoyed with himself for having -made any allusion to his friend’s connexion with Mrs. Sefton: “your -brother has undertaken no sudden journey--of _that_ I am well assured. -Would he quit his residence without leaving even a message behind him? -Would he depart without even so much as a change of raiment--without -the necessaries of the toilette?” - -“Pooh! pooh!” ejaculated the lawyer, now throwing an expression of -sovereign contempt into his tone. “A man with money can purchase a -carpetbag or a portmanteau at the first town he stops at, and can stock -it well, too, with linen and hairbrushes for a few shillings. Really, -my lord, you compel me to treat you as an inexperienced child, who, -having got some wild or romantic notion into his head, is determined to -maintain it by any argument, no matter how preposterous or far-fetched.” - -Trevelyan bit his lip again: for he saw that the lawyer had really the -advantage of him now; and he more than ever blamed his own indiscretion -in having alluded to the affair of Mrs. Sefton. - -“Come, my lord, be reasonable,” proceeded Heathcote, in a conciliatory -tone; “and I will pardon you the rudeness--or I will rather call it -the _brusquerie_, of your first proceedings with regard to me. You -cannot deny that there is a lady in the case: I am far-sighted enough -to have made that discovery. Well, my brother is tired of her, or has -quarrelled with her--or something of that sort; and he has therefore -taken a sudden trip, heaven only knows where. Do you really imagine -that if I had any serious fears, I would refuse to co-operate with you -in instituting the necessary inquiries? Depend upon it, Sir Gilbert -will re-appear again shortly amongst his friends; and he would not -be over-well pleased if he found on his return, or if the newspapers -wafted to him the fact, that a terrible hubbub had taken place in -consequence of his sudden departure. I am a much older man than you, my -lord,--and I look at these matters more calmly--more deliberately.” - -Trevelyan knew not how to reply to these observations. Though they did -not dissipate the alarm which he experienced at the absence of Sir -Gilbert, yet he began to think that the lawyer was really sincere in -giving utterance to them. He, on one side, was disposed to view the -affair seriously: Heathcote, on the other, put his own interpretation -on it;--and, in the same way that Trevelyan could not resist the -impressions made upon himself, he felt bound to allow the merit of -equal conscientiousness on the part of the attorney. - -At all events, there was no utility in protracting the discourse; and -the young nobleman accordingly resolved to take his leave, suspending -for the present any opinion relative to the conduct of Mr. James -Heathcote. - -“I am sorry, sir,” said he, “that I should have intruded so long upon -your valuable time: I am likewise sorry if, at the commencement of our -interview, I should have been hurried by the excitement of my feelings -into anything uncourteous or rude.” - -“Now that you speak in the manner that best becomes a nobleman and -a gentleman,” observed Heathcote, adopting the part of one who has -something to forgive and overlook, “I am most anxious to welcome you as -my brother’s friend. Will you step up into the drawing-room, and honour -my humble abode so far as to partake of such refreshment as at the -moment I can offer you?” - -This proposal was only made with a view to gain as much time as -possible: for the lawyer in his heart had cordially hated the young -nobleman from the instant that he had read his name upon the card. - -“I return you my best thanks, sir,” said Trevelyan; “but I am compelled -to decline your hospitality on the present occasion.” - -Thus speaking, the young nobleman bowed and retired; and the moment the -door closed behind him, the lawyer’s countenance assumed an expression -of such malignant triumph, that it seemed as if he were suddenly -animated with the spirit of a fiend. - -“Green has got her off by this time--there can be no doubt of _that_,” -he muttered to himself, as he rubbed his mummy-like hands gleefully -together. “The woman loves my brother--and she will start away -directly. Even her vanity will not induce her to tarry to pack up all -her things, unless they are ready to hand; for the love of a woman who -is sincere in her passion, rises superior to every other consideration. -Oh! I know the human heart well; I know all its intricacies--its ins -and its outs--the ravellings and unravellings of its smallest, most -delicate fibres! It has been my business to study my fellow-creatures, -in order that I might make them my instruments--my tools--my slaves. -And I have succeeded!” he continued, with a chuckling laugh, while his -brows were elevated with joy. “Otherwise I should not be the rich man -that I am now. But if my wealth be already great--it must be greater. I -must possess countless treasures--riches beyond computation; and until -I have gained _them_ I shall not be satisfied--neither shall I cease -from toiling. That young aristocratic fool who was with me ere now--he -affected to bully me, did he? I got the better of him. He affected to -reason with me: I beat him with pure sophism,--and he has gone away -entertaining a better opinion of me than when he first entered my -presence. But I must examine these abstracts thoroughly,” he added, -still in a muttering tone, as he bent his eyes upon the documents -which he had been studying; “I must note every point in these copies -of the titles by virtue of which my brother holds his estates--for the -management of these estates is already as good as in my own hands: and -who knows--who knows how soon they may be mine altogether--yes--lands, -messuages, tenements--aye, baronetcy and all?” - -And as these last thoughts passed through his brain,--for he had -not dared to give audible utterance to _them_,--there came such a -diabolical expression--an expression of dark menace strangely mingled -with the confidence of approaching triumph--over his countenance, that -had any one been by at the time, the beholder must have dreaded lest -that terrible man were about to throw off the mask of humanity and -reveal himself in all the horrors of a demoniac nature. - -We must however take leave of him for the present, and return to one -whose generous and noble character forms such a striking contrast with -this bad, designing man. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXIX. - -A SCENE. - - -Lord William entered his cab, and drove rapidly away towards Kentish -Town. - -It was mid-day when he reached the abode of Mrs. Sefton--for his -interview with the attorney had been a very long one: but at length -his equipage stopped at the gate of a beautiful little villa standing -in the midst of a garden well laid out, and having iron railings along -the side adjoining the main-road. - -[Illustration] - -Leaping from the vehicle, Lord William opened the gate and hastened up -to the front door, which was immediately opened to his summons, by a -little page in a plain but neat livery. - -To his inquiry whether Mrs. Sefton were at home, an answer in the -affirmative was given--the boy however adding that his mistress was -engaged at the moment. - -Scarcely was the response thus conveyed, when the lady herself, having -caught the sound of the young patrician’s voice, came forth from a -parlour opening from the hall; and, tendering him her hand, she said, -“Oh! I am so glad you are come, my lord--for I am cruelly bewildered -how to act!” - -“Has anything new transpired, madam?” asked Trevelyan, unable to gather -anything decisive from the expression of her countenance, which seemed -to denote mingled hope and uncertainty--a gleam of satisfaction shining -from amidst dark clouds of suspense. - -“Come with me, my lord,” she said; “and you will advise me how to act.” - -Thus speaking, she led the way into the parlour, followed by Trevelyan. - -A man rose from a chair on his entrance; and the sinister countenance -of that individual appeared to be not altogether unfamiliar to the -young patrician, who could not however conjecture at the moment where -he had seen or met that person before. - -The individual himself seemed to recognise the nobleman--or at least -to be troubled by his presence: but, almost immediately recovering his -self-possession, he bowed low and resumed his seat. - -“This gentleman, my lord,” said Mrs. Sefton, “is a Mr. Green of -Liverpool,--and he has brought me strange--nay, the strangest tidings -relative to Sir Gilbert.” - -“And what may those tidings be, madam?” asked Trevelyan, addressing his -words to the lady, but keeping his eyes fixed suspiciously on Mr. Green -all the time. - -“Remember, madam, that all I have said has been in the strictest -confidence!” exclaimed the latter hastily, and with a manner which -only tended to increase the young nobleman’s suspicions. - -“But Lord William Trevelyan is an intimate--a very intimate friend of -Sir Gilbert,” said Mrs. Sefton. - -“It matters not, madam,” observed Mr. Green: “my instructions were -positive----” - -“It matters greatly, however, sir,” interrupted the lady. “Your tale -appeared to me strange and inconsistent from the very first--though -Heaven knows what motive you can have in deceiving me so cruelly, if -deceit it be: but now my suspicions are painfully increased----” - -“Madam, you know not what you are saying,” exclaimed Green: “you are -insulting me, after all the trouble I have taken in this matter. But -have your own way--my presence is no longer necessary here.” - -And, rising from his seat, he was moving towards the door, when a -light suddenly broke in upon Trevelyan’s mind--and it flashed to his -recollection that he had encountered this individual that very forenoon -in the office of Mr. James Heathcote, the attorney. - -“Stop, sir!” he cried, seizing the clerk by the collar of his coat, and -forcibly detaining him: “we have met before--I know you now! Scarcely -two hours have elapsed since you conducted me into the presence of Mr. -Heathcote, who is doubtless your master.” - -“Mr. Heathcote!” ejaculated Mrs. Sefton, a deadly pallor covering her -countenance. “Ah! then my suspicions are to be confirmed--and he is -persecuting _me_ now!” - -“Be seated, sir,” said Trevelyan, pushing the discomfited clerk back -into the chair which he had so recently left. “And now, madam,” he -continued, turning towards the lady, “will you have the kindness to -explain to me all that this man has told you--the object of his visit, -in fine?” - -“Oh! my lord, what hideous treachery is at work!” exclaimed Mrs. -Sefton, sinking upon a sofa, almost overcome by the varied emotions -that agitated in her bosom. “This man introduced himself to me as Mr. -Green of Liverpool, and as having brought me tidings of Sir Gilbert. -He represented that Sir Gilbert, seized with a sudden terror through -pecuniary difficulties, had fled to America----” - -“’Tis false! false as ever diabolical deceit could be!” cried -Trevelyan, emphatically. “I will stake my existence that so far from -being in any financial embarrassment, Sir Gilbert Heathcote owes not a -farthing in the world, and does not live even up to his income.” - -“Your lordship takes too much upon yourself in making such random -statements,” said Green: “since I am well assured of the exact truth of -the story I have told the lady.” - -“This is a singular way for a man to express himself, if he be an -actual emissary from Sir Gilbert,” observed Trevelyan. “You are well -assured of the exact truth of your story--are you? Then you would have -us infer that you had received it second-hand. But pray continue, -madam:--what else did this fellow tell you? We shall unmask him -altogether presently--and perhaps his next move will be from hence to -the presence of a magistrate.” - -Mr. Green endeavoured to assume as much composure as he could possibly -call to his aid: but he did not at all admire the aspect that things -were taking--nor did he feel comfortable under the threat so plainly -held out. - -“Oh! my lord, what a snare has been spread for me!” exclaimed Mrs. -Sefton, clasping her hands together in profound thankfulness that -she had escaped the danger. “This bad man who now trembles in your -presence, would have induced me to accompany him with the least -possible delay to Liverpool,--thence to embark by myself in order -to rejoin Sir Gilbert in New York. He has even about his person the -funds to bear the expenses of my voyage:--and he would at once have -hurried me away to Liverpool,--only, in the first place, a vague -suspicion was excited in my mind,--and, secondly, I had particular--oh! -very particular reasons for remaining in London at least a few hours -longer----” - -Mrs. Sefton suddenly checked herself: she was being hurried away by her -excited feelings into allusions or positive revelations, on the verge -of which she thus stopped short. Trevelyan did not, however, comprehend -the motive of the abrupt pause which she made, but attributed it to the -influence of her over-wrought emotions. - -“Mr. Green--or whatever your real name may be,” exclaimed the nobleman, -turning round upon the clerk, “what explanation can you give, sir, in -respect to all this?” - -“I know not by what right you demand any explanation, my lord,” said -the man, determined to put as good a face upon the matter as possible. - -“I will tell you by what right,” returned the patrician: “by the -right which every man has to protect and defend a lady against the -machinations of her enemies--by the right that every honest member of -society has to unmask a villain----” - -“Do you allude to me, my lord?” demanded Green, rising from his seat. - -“I do, sir,” replied Trevelyan. “You are a villain, because you have -lent yourself to an infamous trick. You cannot have been imposed -upon--inasmuch as you have told many deliberate and wilful falsehoods. -You pretend to have arrived straight from Liverpool, whereas you are -undoubtedly a clerk in the office of Mr. James Heathcote--for you -enacted the part of a clerk when I called there ere now. You would -have induced this lady to quit London and repair to a foreign country, -where nothing but disappointment--perhaps beggary--would have awaited -her; and this act is so vile--so atrocious--so horribly base, that I -can scarcely control my feelings--I can scarcely restrain my patience, -while I thus upbraid you with your infamy. Were you a younger man, -sir----” - -But the nobleman stopped short, ashamed of wasting a menace upon one so -unworthy of the honest ire of a generous soul. - -“Now that your lordship has lavished all your abuse upon me, perhaps I -may be permitted to depart,” said Green, with much apparent coolness, -though in reality he was terribly alarmed. - -“Not until you have explained the meaning of this atrocious proceeding -in which you have borne so prominent a part,” replied Lord William. -“Make up your mind to answer my questions in a way that shall carry -truth upon the face of your words--or prepare to give an account of -your conduct to the proper authority.” - -“What--what would you have me do, my lord?” asked the miserable wretch, -now unable to conceal his terror--unable also to subdue the trembling -of his limbs. - -“Has foul play been adopted with regard to Sir Gilbert Heathcote?” -demanded Lord William, speaking in a measured tone, and fixing his eyes -keenly upon the clerk. - -“Good God! Does your lordship suspect that he is murdered?” exclaimed -Green, horrified at the bare idea. “No--no: thank Heaven--it is not so -bad as that!” - -“Thank Heaven also!” murmured Mrs. Sefton, her heart experiencing a -relief so great and sudden--for the man was evidently speaking the -truth--that she felt as if she were about to faint through excessive -joy. - -“I scarcely apprehended such a frightful alternative as my words may -have seemed to imply,” said Trevelyan. “But delay not, man--speak--tell -me--tell this afflicted lady also--where is Sir Gilbert Heathcote?” - -“My lord, I dare not----” - -“Hesitate not another moment, sir,” cried the nobleman, grasping the -clerk violently by the collar of his coat: “hesitate not, I say--or I -will drag you into the presence of the magistrate. Tell me--where is my -friend?--where is Sir Gilbert?” - -“My lord--my lord”--stammered the affrighted wretch, his countenance -rendered hideous by its workings. - -“Speak--sir--I command you!” exclaimed Trevelyan, in a tone of terrible -excitement. “Trifle not with me--or I shall do you a mischief. -Where--where, I ask for the last time, is Sir Gilbert Heathcote?” - -“In----But you will kill me, my lord----” - -“Speak, villain! Where is he?” demanded the infuriate noble. - -“In a mad-house!” was the reply, absolutely wrung by terror from the -clerk. - -A piercing scream burst from the lips of Mrs. Sefton--and in another -moment she fell heavily upon the carpet, with a dead sound as if it -were a corpse that had rolled from the sofa. - -Trevelyan--stupified by the astounding words that had fallen upon -his ear--let go his hold on the wretched clerk, on whom he stood -gazing for a few moments as if he had become petrified--turned into a -statue--paralysed--motionless. But suddenly he seemed to be struck with -the conviction that Mrs. Sefton needed his assistance; and, forgetting -in the agitation and excitement of his feelings to keep a watch upon -the clerk, he hastened to raise the prostrate lady from the floor. - -He placed her upon the sofa, and sprinkled water (of which there -happened to be a decanter full on the table) upon her countenance. In a -few minutes she opened her eyes, and gazed wildly around her. - -Trevelyan drew back a few paces so that the air might circulate freely -about her--when, suddenly remembering the clerk, he looked hurriedly -round. - -But the villain had stolen away! - -At this moment a bitter groan burst from the lips of Mrs. Sefton; for a -remembrance of all that had just occurred came rapidly to her mind--and -the horrible word “mad-house” seemed to echo in her ears and touch a -chord that vibrated with a feeling of anguish to her very brain. - -She covered her face with her hands, while her bosom heaved -convulsively. - -“Compose yourself, madam, I implore you,” said Trevelyan. “Even this -certainty which we have acquired, is preferable to the suspense -previously endured.” - -“But is there hope, my lord--is there any hope left for _me_?” she -inquired, removing her hands from her countenance--now so pale--and -gazing up at the young patrician in a beseechful manner. - -“Assuredly there _is_ hope, my dear madam,” returned Trevelyan, -emphatically. “I am confident that Sir Gilbert is in the possession of -his intellects as completely as ever, and that he is a _victim_--but -not a _maniac_. Indeed, I see through it all!” - -“Oh! now you inspire me with hope!” exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, taking -his hand and pressing it with fervent gratitude: and as her face was -upturned towards his own, it suddenly struck him,--struck him like a -flash of lightning,--that there was in that countenance an expression -reminding him of Agnes Vernon,--although he had never beheld the -features of the Recluse of the Cottage otherwise than tranquil, calm, -and serene. Nevertheless, that idea seized upon him: but in the next -moment he said to himself, “It is mere fancy!”--and as Mrs. Sefton at -that instant settled herself in such a manner upon the sofa that her -back became turned to the window and the variation of light produced a -change in the expression of her countenance, that idea was immediately -absorbed in other and more important considerations in the mind of the -young patrician. - -“Oh! now you inspire me with hope!” Mrs. Sefton had said; and her face -brightened up--so that it was at the moment when this sudden lustre of -joy was suffused upon her features, that the above mentioned idea had -struck the nobleman. - -“Yes, madam--there is every reason to hope,” he responded. “The entire -plot, in all its terrible iniquity, is now before me as clear as the -noon-day sun. I can read it as plainly as if it were in a book. The -brother is at the bottom of it all.” - -“Did I not tell your lordship that he was a villain?” asked Mrs. Sefton. - -“Yes, my dear madam,” replied Trevelyan: “but I am slow to form -injurious opinions of any man. Now, however, I have the conviction of -his turpitude--and I hesitate no longer to proclaim him to be all that -you represented him.” - -“But--merciful heavens! while we are wasting time in words,” exclaimed -Mrs. Sefton, seized with a sudden access of wild excitement, “Gilbert -is in a horrible predicament--and we should be acting--not talking.” - -“Haste and precipitation will effect no good in this matter, my dear -madam,” said Trevelyan. - -“But we must find out the place where he is confined--we must apply -to the officers of justice--we must release him!” cried the lady, her -excitement increasing. - -“Pray, my dear madam, listen to me with some degree of composure,” said -the young nobleman; “and I will explain to you how we must proceed, and -why nothing can be done with that speed which would naturally be most -consonant with your feelings.” - -“I am composed--I am tranquil now, my dear friend--for in such a light -you will permit me to consider you,” observed Mrs. Sefton, exercising -as strong a control over her emotions as she possibly could command. - -“In the first place I must tell you that I saw Mr. James Heathcote -this morning,” resumed Trevelyan “and when I think of his cool -villainy--his unblushing effrontery--his matchless impudence, I -could tear my hair with rage at the idea of how I was duped. For -though I entered his office with a strong suspicion--in spite of the -remonstrance which I last night made to you--I quitted his presence -with a very different impression.” - -“And that man who was ere now with us, is his clerk?” said Mrs. Sefton. -“But what could be the motive of their base attempt to induce me to -quit the country with such extraordinary precipitation?” - -“The reason is apparent enough, my dear madam,” answered Trevelyan; -“and I will now explain to you the whole matter, as I understand -it. James Heathcote has suborned two unprincipled villains, -calling themselves medical practitioners, to grant a certificate -of the insanity of his brother. The law of England permits such a -proceeding----” - -“Then the law of England is worthy only of barbarians!” exclaimed the -lady, emphatically. - -“You are not the only person in the country who entertains the same -conviction,” observed Trevelyan, with a smile: then, instantly resuming -a serious expression of countenance, he said, “By virtue of that -certificate, Sir Gilbert is suddenly seized upon and carried off to a -madhouse.” - -“Oh! it is horrible!” cried the lady, in a tone of extreme bitterness -mingled with anguish, while a convulsive shudder passed over her from -head to foot. - -“The iniquity is tremendous--and yet it is legal,” said Lord William. -“Yes--I blush for my country when I declare such to be the fact,--I -blush also for my fellow-countrymen that they should tolerate a system -which savages themselves would regard with abhorrence! Well, madam, the -deed is done--the atrocity is consummated--and Sir Gilbert Heathcote, -though in the complete enjoyment of his intellects, is borne off to a -lunatic-asylum. James--his vile brother--will obtain the control over -his property; and that is the aim and object of his wickedness. But -knowing that you are interested--deeply interested in Sir Gilbert’s -welfare----” - -“Oh! heaven can witness how deeply!” exclaimed the lady, clasping her -hands with fervour. - -“Knowing, I repeat, how profoundly you are interested in all that -concerns my valued friend,” continued Trevelyan, “James Heathcote -sought to expatriate you at least for a season--so that he might -prevent you from adopting any measures to restore the victim to the -enjoyment of freedom.” - -“But of what avail would a few weeks’ delay be, even supposing that -the plot devised against myself had succeeded?” asked Mrs. Sefton. “If -I had gone to America, I should have found that Sir Gilbert was not -in New York--and I should have forthwith returned to London. Unless, -indeed,” she added, with a shudder, “my heart had broken with the -immensity of its sorrow!” - -“Ah! madam--and it was perhaps upon this catastrophe that the vile man -reckoned!” said Lord William, his blood growing cold at the extent of -the turpitude which he was contemplating. “And yet a more terrible -suspicion still has come into my mind--a suspicion so dreadful----” - -“Name it! Keep me not in suspense!” cried the lady, observing that her -young friend was himself becoming painfully excited now. - -“During your absence, madam,” returned he, his countenance -darkening,--“during your absence, I say--supposing that you had been -induced to depart--sufficient time would be gained to drive Sir Gilbert -mad in reality; and then, on your reappearance in London, the lawyer -would have defied all that you could possibly attempt or devise!” - -“Merciful heaven!” ejaculated the horror-stricken woman; “can so much -black iniquity exist in the human breast?” - -“Alas! such schemes as these are of frequent occurrence in this land -which vaunts a consummate civilisation!” said Trevelyan. “Could we -but penetrate into the mysteries of the mad-house, we should behold -scenes that would make our hair stand on end--our blood run cold in -our veins--our very souls sick! Yes, madam--too often, indeed, is the -lunatic asylum rendered the engine of the most hideous cruelty: too -often does it become a prison for the _sane_!” - -“You will drive me mad, my lord!” cried Mrs. Sefton, dreadfully -excited: “I shall myself become an inmate--and deservedly so--of one of -those awful places!” - -“Pardon me, dear madam--pardon me,” said Trevelyan, deeply afflicted at -having suffered his excited feelings to hurry him into those passionate -exclamations which had so terrified her. “I was wrong thus to dwell on -the subject.” - -“No--no: it is better that I should learn the worst,” she cried, with a -strong spasmodic shuddering, while horror--ineffable horror--convulsed -her countenance. “But how shall we rescue him from that living tomb?” - -“Abandon not yourself to despair,” replied Trevelyan. “In the first -instance I must discover the place where our friend is confined: and -then, trust to me to effect his deliverance!” - -“Excellent man!--generous-hearted noble!” cried Mrs. Sefton, in a tone -indicative of the most fervent gratitude. “But will not the law aid us -in all this?” - -“I have already explained to you, my dear madam, that every thing -has doubtless been done by James Heathcote under colour of the most -monstrous law that disgraces our statute-book,” responded Lord William. -“Were I to apply to a magistrate, I could obtain no redress: he would -be unable to assist me. The Commissioners in Lunacy would view the -matter in the ordinary light, and tell me that when the time for the -usual periodical visit to the various asylums arrived, due inquiries -should be instituted. No--the lawyer must be assailed by other weapons: -cunning must be met by cunning;--and much as I abhor duplicity, I will -not fail to use it, if necessary, in this case. Believe me when I -assure you that no time shall be lost, and that I will without delay -adopt measures to discover the place where our friend is imprisoned.” - -“God send you success!” murmured Mrs. Sefton, faintly: then, in a -higher tone and with renewed excitement, she said, “But how can I calm -my feelings--how can I tranquillize myself even for a moment, while -this state of suspense shall last? And when I think of what _his_ -feelings must be----Oh! it is enough to drive him mad in reality where -he is, and me likewise mad here!” - -“But you _must_ endeavour to exercise some degree of command over your -emotions,” said Trevelyan. “Consider--reflect--I may require your aid -in this work of deliverance; and----” - -“Oh! now indeed you hold out an inducement calculated to calm me--to -give me courage!” exclaimed Mrs. Sefton. “Yes--I _will_ be tranquil: I -_will_ exercise a greater control over my feelings. I will throw aside -the weakness of a woman, and become strong in the hope of Sir Gilbert’s -rescue, and in the endeavour to accomplish it.” - -“This frame of mind becomes you, my dear madam,” said Trevelyan. “And -now permit me to take my departure--for there is no time to be lost.” - -“Farewell for the present,” responded Mrs. Sefton, offering him her -hand; “and accept my most unfeigned gratitude for your noble conduct -towards me and your generous intentions in behalf of Sir Gilbert -Heathcote.” - -“You shall thank me when I have succeeded in my endeavour to restore -him to you,” said Trevelyan pressing the lady’s hand with the -cordiality of that friendship which, short as their acquaintance had -been, circumstances had established and even cemented between them. - -He then hastened away from her dwelling, and drove to his own house in -Park Square. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXX. - -AGNES AND MRS. MORTIMER. - - -In the meantime Mrs. Mortimer had not been idle. - -Possessed of the letter which had been entrusted to her, she repaired -in a hired vehicle to the immediate vicinity of the cottage, and -alighted in the lane which was bounded on one side by the thick and -verdant hedge that enclosed the garden. - -The old woman had not precisely made up her mind how to proceed in the -business which she had taken in hand: she knew that the task was a -difficult one,--and she trusted rather to the chapter of accidents than -to any settled or preconceived project. - -For she naturally reasoned within herself that Mr. Vernon had doubtless -warned his daughter not to hold any further communication with -strangers: she had seen enough, on the evening of her visit to the -cottage, to enable her to judge that her presence there was regarded -suspiciously by that gentleman, and that her tale was not believed -by him;--and she therefore calculated that Agnes had been duly and -impressively counselled not to receive her again. Indeed, it was -likewise probable that the young lady might have been taught to look -upon her as a person having some evil object in view, and that the -servants had been charged to maintain a strict watch upon her movements -should she make her appearance in that neighbourhood again. - -All these reflections were duly weighed by Mrs. Mortimer; and, under -the circumstances which they suggested, she found it to be totally -impossible to devise beforehand any particular method of carrying out -her aims. - -She, however, more than hoped that, as the morning was remarkably -fine, with a warm summer sun rendering the face of Nature bright and -joyous, Agnes would be certain to walk in her garden, if not farther -abroad. Nor was she mistaken in the former portion of her expectation: -for scarcely had she reached the verdant boundary of the enclosure, -when she beheld, through the high hedge, the light drapery of the -young lady, who, clad in a morning-dress, was advancing slowly along a -gravel-walk, with a book in her hand. - -How beautiful did she appear, even to the gaze of the old harridan who -now surveyed her from behind the hedge! There was an æsthetic grace in -her movements--an enchanting sweetness expressed in her countenance--a -gentle refinement in her bearing--and a halo of innocence around her, -which rendered her a being with whom it was impossible to associate -ideas of sensuality, but whom the heart might worship with the purest, -holiest poetic sentiment, as if hers were an ethereal nature. - -Her eyes were bent upon the volume which she held in her -delicate, white hands; and her little feet moved slowly along the -gravel-walk--for she was absorbed in the perusal of the book. She -had not fastened the white ribbons of the straw-bonnet that she had -evidently put on with a hasty negligence; and those ribbons were thrown -back over her shoulders, thus allowing a shower of raven curls to -descend on each side of the fair face down to the bosom of her dress. - -Around that charming creature streamed the flood of sun-light, making -her tresses, dark though they were, glitter like hyperions, and -imparting a dazzling whiteness to her drapery, which appeared in strong -relief amidst the luxuriant green of the trees and shrubs. - -Mrs. Mortimer was rejoiced when she beheld the young lady in the -garden--still more rejoiced when she observed that Agnes was -approaching that part of the hedge behind which the harridan was -concealed. - -Several minutes however elapsed before the beauteous creature was -sufficiently nigh for Mrs. Mortimer to address her; because she not -only advanced slowly, but stopped two or three times when she met with -a passage of more than ordinary interest in the work she was reading. -It was the novel of “Ivanhoe” that thus rivetted her attention; and she -was in the midst of the exalting scene of the combat between Brian de -Bois-Gilbert and Wilfred of Ivanhoe. - -Suddenly she was startled by hearing her name mentioned;--and she -glanced around almost in affright--but no one met her view. - -“Miss Vernon--dear Miss Vernon,” repeated the voice: “approach nearer -to the hedge--’tis a friend who thus addresses you.” - -The maiden instantly recognised the peculiar tones of the old woman who -had called upon her nearly a week previously; and, without giving any -response, she stood undecided how to act. - -“Pray do not refuse to hear me--pray do not go away, Miss Vernon,” -resumed Mrs. Mortimer, whose form the young lady could now distinguish -through the hedge. “I have something of importance to communicate--and -not for worlds would I injure a hair of your head.” - -“But I promised my father not to hold discourse with any one who came -not with a letter from him,” said Agnes, at length breaking silence: -“and moreover,” she added, with some degree of hesitation, “I am afraid -that you do not mean any good towards me.” - -“Alas! Miss Vernon, can you entertain such cruel suspicions regarding -me?” cried Mrs. Mortimer, as if deeply afflicted at the mistrust -implied in the maiden’s words. “Of what benefit would it be for me to -injure you? or, indeed, how could I possibly injure you?” - -“I know not--and yet----” - -“Ah! you hesitate, my dear young lady--and you will accord me a -hearing,” exclaimed the old woman, eagerly. “In fact, I appeal to your -sense of justice not to refuse me this opportunity of vindicating -myself against the suspicions which, I am well aware, your father -entertains concerning me. But, tell me--what book is that which you -hold in your hand?” demanded Mrs. Mortimer, half-suspecting that it -might be a novel, and in that case hoping to find a pretext for giving -the conversation a turn towards the topic of love. - -“It is ‘Ivanhoe,’ madam,” said Agnes. “But really I must not remain -here any longer: I should be sorry to suspect you--and yet my -father----” - -“Dearest lady, not even your parent’s prejudices should render _you_ -capable of an act of injustice,” interrupted Mrs. Mortimer, with an -emphasis that made Agnes pause as she was on the point of retreating. -“You are engaged in the perusal of one of the finest tales in the -English language,” she continued, abruptly diverting the conversation -into another channel: “and doubtless you have sighed over the hopeless -affection which the beautiful Jewess cherished for him whose heart was -given to the Lady Rowena?” - -“I have wept for the interesting and charming Rebecca,” said Agnes, in -the natural ingenuousness of her character: “although I am well aware -that she is only the heroine of a romance, and I cannot precisely -understand wherefore she should have been so much attached to Wilfrid.” - -“The description is so life-like--is it not?” asked Mrs. Mortimer. - -“I know not--and yet it appears to me as if it were all true--as if I -could easily persuade myself that such incidents really occurred, and -such sentiments could positively exist,” responded Agnes. “But I must -leave you----” - -“One word, Miss,” interrupted the old woman. “You say that you could -easily persuade yourself that such sentiments as those experienced -by Rebecca for Wilfrid, and by Wilfrid and Rowena mutually, could -actually exist. Believe me, then, when I assure you that although the -incidents of that tale are a fiction, the sentiments are the very -reverse--and that what the author denominates _love_ is a passion felt -and acknowledged throughout the universe.” - -“Yes--the love of a father towards his children, and of children -towards their parents,” said Agnes. “Oh! I am well aware that such a -blessed feeling animates the mortal breast.” - -“And there is another phase of that sentiment,” resumed the old -woman, immediately: “or rather, the love which you described, is a -_feeling_--whereas the love which Rebecca experienced for Ivanhoe, is a -_passion_.” - -“I cannot comprehend you, madam,” observed Agnes, who gradually grew -more and more interested in this conversation, because Scott’s novel -had made a deep impression on her mind, and had raised up a sentiment -of curiosity which, through the very ingenuousness of her disposition, -sought for an elucidation of those descriptions that were entirely -unintelligible or only dimly significant to her. - -“Suppose that Rebecca had addressed a letter to Ivanhoe, explaining the -sentiments which she entertained towards him,” said the wily old woman: -“would not Wilfrid have been unkind--ungenerous--even harsh and brutal, -not to have perused that narrative of her feelings?” - -“But his character _was_ generous,” exclaimed Agnes, emphatically; “and -he would not have refused to read such a letter.” - -“Precisely so,” continued Mrs. Mortimer. “And now, my sweet young lady, -let us suppose that it was Wilfrid who experienced an attachment for -Rebecca, and that Rebecca suspected it not;--and suppose, likewise, -that Wilfrid penned a letter, in respectful and proper language to the -Jewess, describing the sentiments that animated him--what course should -the beautiful Israelite have pursued?” - -“She would have proved as generous on her side as we have already -agreed that Wilfrid of Ivanhoe would have been generous on his part,” -answered Agnes, without an instant’s hesitation. - -“Such is your opinion, sweet maiden?” cried Mrs. Mortimer, -interrogatively. - -“I have no reason to think otherwise,” was the immediate response. - -“Then, Miss Vernon,” said the old woman, in a tone of mingled triumph -and solemnity, “I implore you to peruse the letter of which I am the -bearer, and which is intended for you--and for you alone!” - -Thus speaking, Mrs. Mortimer thrust Trevelyan’s missive through -the hedge; and Agnes received it mechanically, though startled and -bewildered by so sudden and unexpected a proceeding. - -“Read it, Miss Vernon--read it,” cried the old woman: “there is nothing -in its contents to offend you--but perhaps much to please and delight.” - -Thus adjured, the young maiden--innocent, artless, and unsophisticated -as she was--hesitated no longer, but, opening the letter, commenced its -perusal. - -The first paragraph, as the reader will remember, ran thus:-- - - “Pardon a stranger who dares to address you, beautiful - Miss Vernon, in a strain that might give you offence, - were he not sincere in his language and honourable in his - intentions:--pardon me, I implore you--and refuse not to - read those few lines to the end! He who thus writes is the - individual that you have observed occasionally in the vicinity - of your dwelling; and you will perceive by the signature to - this letter that he is not a man without ostensible guarantees - for his social position. That his character is unimpeachable - he can proudly declare; and that he will not address to you, - Miss Vernon, a single word which he will fear to repeat in your - father’s presence, he solemnly declares.” - -At first the maiden’s countenance wore an expression of profound -astonishment when she found herself addressed by a person who avowed -himself to be “a stranger,” and who proceeded to speak of sincerity -of language and honourable intentions. What intentions, then, had he? -This was the thought that flashed to her mind. In the next moment she -discovered that the letter came from the gentleman whom she _had_ -observed, on more occasions than one, in the neighbourhood of the -cottage; and now it struck her, as if with a ray of light darting into -her soul, that he must have had some object, beyond that of a mere -lounge, in so frequently loitering about the precincts of the garden. -Something--a something that was nevertheless incomprehensible--told -her that she ought to read no more; but at that instant the concluding -words of the paragraph above quoted met her eyes--and she murmured to -herself, “There can be no harm in perusing the words that he would -speak to me in my father’s presence.” - -She accordingly read on, until she came to the termination of the next -paragraph:-- - - “Let me, however, speak of myself in the first person again: - let me assure you that your beauty has captivated my heart--and - that, if any thing were wanting to render me your slave, the - description which the bearer of this letter has given me of - your amiable qualities, would be more than sufficient. I am - rich--and therefore I have no selfish motive in addressing - you, even if you be rich also: but I would rather that it were - otherwise with you, so that my present proceeding may appear - to you the more disinterested. Had I any means of obtaining - an introduction to you, beautiful Miss Vernon, I should not - have adopted a measure that gives me pain because I tremble - lest it should wound or offend you. But mine is an honest--a - sincere--and a devoted attachment; and I shall be happy indeed - if you will permit me to open a correspondence with your father - on the subject. Were he to honour me with a visit, I should - be proud to receive him. But if, in the meantime, you seek to - know more of me--if I might venture to solicit you to accord - me an interview of only a few minutes, you cannot divine how - fervently I should thank you--how delighted I should feel! Let - this interview take place in the presence of Mrs. Mortimer, if - you will: I have nothing to communicate to you that I should - hesitate to say before your father or your friends. Oh! how - can I convince you of my sincerity?--how can I testify my - devotion?--how can I prove the extent of my love?” - -While she perused this portion of the letter, the following thoughts -and ideas ran rapidly through her mind:-- - -“My beauty has captivated his heart----Oh! then he believes me to be -beautiful! Mrs. Mortimer has spoken well of me to him: in this case, -she cannot be a bad woman, and she cannot mean me any harm. Assuredly -my dear papa was wrong to suspect her. He has no selfish motive in -addressing me--even if I be rich: then, whatever his intentions -be, they must be honourable, as he says--because all wickedness is -undertaken for the sake of gold. He is afraid of offending me. Oh! -how can I be offended with one who addresses me in such a respectful -manner, and who seems to fear that the simple fact of thus writing to -me will excite my anger? ‘_A sincere and a devoted attachment!_’ Ah! -such was the attachment that Rebecca entertained for Wilfrid, and that -Wilfrid experienced for Rowena;--and now I perceive something different -between _their_ attachment and that which the Templar harboured towards -the beautiful Jewess. He wishes to see my father--he wishes to obtain -an interview with me!”--And the maiden’s heart began to palpitate, -she knew not why: but at this moment it struck her that the writer -of the letter was of agreeable person, and that he must be what the -author of “Ivanhoe” would have denominated _handsome_. With a gradually -increasing fluttering in her bosom, the artless maiden read on--until -she suddenly found the paragraph close with the mystic name of _love_! - -Then a gentle flush appeared upon her damask cheek; and a veil rapidly -fell from her eyes. She now comprehended how it was possible for -Rebecca to be attached to Wilfrid of Ivanhoe:--Agnes had already -learnt by heart the alphabet of love! At the same time, her soul -retained all its chaste purity, though it lost a trifle of its girlish -artlessness:--love began to be comprehensible to her as a refined -and poetic sentiment--and not as a less divine passion or earthly -sensuousness. A dreamy and unknown joy was stealing into her bosom--as -if she had just been blessed with a glimpse of the realms of ethereal -bliss;--and, under the influence of these feelings, she read the letter -on to its close:-- - - “I beseech you to reflect, Miss Vernon, that my happiness - depends upon your reply. Am I guilty of an indiscretion in - loving you? Love is a passion beyond mortal control! He who - knows no other deity, deserves not blame for worshipping the - sun, because it is glorious and bright; and my heart, which - knows no other idol, adores you, because you are beautiful and - good. Treat not my conduct, then, with anger: let not your - pride be offended by the proceeding which I have adopted in - order to make my sentiments known to you;--and scorn not the - honest--the pure--the ardent affection which an honourable - man dares to proffer you. I do not merit punishment because I - love you;--and your silence would prove a punishment severe - and undeserved indeed! Again, I conjure you to remember that - the happiness of a fellow-creature depends upon you: your - decision will either inspire me with the most joyous hope, or - plunge me into the deepest despair. At the same time, beauteous - Agnes,--(the words--those delightful words, ‘_beauteous - Agnes_,’ are written now, and I cannot--will not erase - them)--at the same time, I say, if your affections be already - engaged--if a mortal more blest than myself have received the - promise of your hand, accept the assurance, sweet maiden, that - never more shall you be molested by me--never again will I - intrude myself upon your attention. For with my love is united - the most profound respect; and not for worlds would I do aught - to excite an angry feeling in your soul. - - “Your ardent admirer and devoted friend, - “WILLIAM TREVELYAN.” - -While she perused this last paragraph in the letter, Agnes more than -once felt an involuntary sigh stealing from her bosom--as if it were -called up by a strain of music familiar to her childhood, and reviving -many pleasing reflections. - -The last portion of the letter became clearly intelligible to her, in -consequence of the suggestive incidents which she had been reading in -Scott’s novel. For would not Rebecca have received Wilfrid’s hand, had -his love not been already plighted to Rowena? It was evident, then, -that William Trevelyan sought her--yes, _her_--Agnes Vernon--as his -wife; and that he feared lest she should be engaged to wed another! Oh! -now she comprehended the full intent--the full meaning of that letter -which he had addressed to her: she perceived that he loved her--that he -had loitered about the cottage in order to behold her--that he wrote to -her, because he feared to offend by accosting her--and that he dreaded -no refusal on the part of her father, provided that she was not already -pledged to become the wife of another suitor! - -“You have read the letter, my child?” asked the old woman, who, even -through the verdant foliage of the hedge, had watched every change in -the expression of the maiden’s countenance, and had thereby obtained a -complete insight into what was passing in her mind. - -“Yes, madam,” murmured Agnes, in a tone that was scarcely audible--for -she now felt embarrassed, bashful, and timid, she knew not wherefore. - -“And you are not offended with Lord William Trevelyan----” - -“Lord William Trevelyan!” exclaimed the beauteous girl, now seized -with surprise: “is he indeed a nobleman? Oh! I am sorry for that!” she -added, giving vent in her artlessness to an expression which confirmed -the old woman’s already existing suspicion that her employer was by no -means indifferent to the Recluse of the Cottage. - -“You are sorry that he is a nobleman, my sweet child?” said Mrs. -Mortimer. “Are you afraid that he is too proud to make a humble maiden -his wife?” - -Agnes blushed deeply, and remained silent. - -“Fear nothing on that head,” continued the old woman. “He is no -deceiver: his intentions are honourable. And now tell me frankly and -candidly--has his letter displeased you?” - -“I should be deceiving you were I to answer in the affirmative,” -responded Agnes; “and yet I feel--at least, it seems as if I feel that -I ought to be displeased, although I cannot in truth declare that I am. -But I will send this letter to my dear father, who is in Paris----” - -“Ah! Mr. Vernon is in France,” interrupted Mrs. Mortimer, delighted to -find the way thus cleared for the furtherance of the projects which she -had in hand; for she was resolved to make herself particularly useful -to Lord William in his suit with the beautiful Agnes, so that her -claims upon him might be all the more considerable. “However, my dear -child,” she continued, “you would do well not to trouble your father at -present, since he is doubtless engaged in particular business on the -Continent----” - -“Oh! my father will be delighted to find that I communicate to him -everything that occurs,” interrupted Agnes; “and since Lord William -Trevelyan so especially alludes to my dear parent in his letter----” - -“Miss Vernon--Miss Vernon,” exclaimed the old woman, impatiently, “this -is a matter of so much delicacy, that I must implore you to be guided -by me----” - -“Would you counsel me not to forward this letter to my father?” asked -the maiden, in a tone so low and tremulous that it afforded no aid to -the reading of the thoughts that dictated the question. - -“Such is the advice that I should assuredly give you, my dear child--at -least for the present,” was the response. - -“And do you think,” continued Agnes, in a tone still lower and still -more tremulous than before,--“do you think that Lord William Trevelyan -would proffer me the same counsel?” - -“I have no doubt of it, sweet maiden,” hastily replied Mrs. Mortimer. -“For _his_ sake--for _your_ sake it were best that none save myself -should become acquainted with the secret of your love----” - -“Oh! madam,” exclaimed Agnes, in a voice of touching remonstrance and -pathetic reproach, “if this love of which you speak be a feeling that -must alienate me from the sympathies of my father, and compel me to -cherish a secret that I dare not impart to him, I can have no hope that -happiness will be the result! Farewell, madam; restore the letter to -him who honoured me by addressing me in those terms that for an instant -dazzled and bewildered me--and tell him that it were better for him to -think no more of Agnes Vernon!” - -Having thus spoken, the maiden tossed the letter hastily, but not -insultingly, over the hedge, and hurried away towards the cottage. - -Mrs. Mortimer was for a few minutes stupified by this decisive and -most unexpected proceeding. She had imagined that Agnes had become a -complete dupe to the specious arguments she had used to ensnare her; -and she was astounded to find that fair creature, so innocent and -artless asserting an energy of volition which was inspired by the -purest sentiments of rectitude, and which dominated over the nascent -feelings of affection evidently engendered in her bosom by the suit of -Lord William Trevelyan. - -The old woman knew not how to act. She perceived that it was useless -to endeavour to obtain another interview with Agnes--at least on the -present occasion; and she was unwilling to return to her employer with -the acknowledgment that her policy had rather marred than forwarded -his interests. She therefore now began to reflect whether it were -not better to abandon the business altogether, and return to Paris, -where her daughter’s affairs might afford scope for her intriguing -qualifications and likewise augment her pecuniary resources. She was -already possessed of between five and six thousand pounds--the amount -wrung from the hands of her miserable husband; and she came to the -conclusion that it was scarcely worth her while to waste any more time -in a matter which, even were she successful, would only bring her a -recompense of a few hundreds. - -Having made these hasty reflections, Mrs. Mortimer thrust Trevelyan’s -letter into her reticule,--for she never destroyed documents that -related to private affairs; and, returning to the hackney-coach, -desired to be driven to the Borough. - -She alighted in Blackman Street, and, having dismissed the vehicle, -repaired to the coffee-house where she had taken up her abode. - -As she was passing by the bar-parlour, in order to reach the staircase -leading to her own chamber, the mistress of the establishment came -forth and beckoned her into the room: then, closing the door, the woman -said, in a tone savouring somewhat of cool insolence, “I tell you what -it is, Mrs. Mortimer--the sooner you accommodate yourself with other -lodgings, the better: ’cos, though I ain’t over partickler and makes -no imperent inquiries about them as paytronises my house--yet, for all -that, I can’t abide such wisitors as come on your account just now. -Leastways, I’d rayther be vithout ’em.” - -“My good woman!” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, surveying the landlady with -an astonishment the most real and unfeigned, “you must be labouring -under some mistake. I hope that I’m a respectable person; and I am sure -that I shall bring no discredit on your house. As for any visitors who -have called on my account, I expect none--and therefore there is an -error in the matter.” - -“No such a thing!” cried the landlady, her choler rising. “There was -two men which come just now: and, what’s more, they was officers with a -search-warrant--and I couldn’t perwent them from doing their dooty.” - -“Officers!--a search-warrant!” ejaculated Mrs. Mortimer, now becoming -frightened--although she could not conceive what feature of her recent -conduct could have excited any suspicion on the part of the myrmidons -of justice:--but suddenly a fear of an appalling nature seized upon -her--for her money was all concealed in her chamber up-stairs. “Oh! -it’s wery well on your part, ma’am, to put a good face on the bisness,” -said the landlady: “but it’s nevertheless true for all that. A great -tall hulking feller and a seedy-looking old man----” - -“An old man!” repeated Mrs. Mortimer, now becoming sick at heart. - -“Yes--an old man,” proceeded the coffee-house-keeper’s wife; “and he -said he was a officer with a search-warrant, and that t’other was his -assistant----” - -[Illustration] - -“’Tis a trick--a vile trick! I see it all--I understand it now!” cried -the wretched Mrs. Mortimer, staggering towards a chair and gasping for -breath:--but in a few moments she seemed to be endowed with a sudden -energy, and, bursting from the room, she rushed up-stairs to her own -chamber--the landlady, who was a stout and therefore less active woman, -following as quickly as she could. - -Mrs. Mortimer entered her room, and darted towards her trunk. The lid -resisted not her attempt to raise it--for the lock had been forced. -She plunged her hand amidst the clothes that the box contained, and -felt for _something_ underneath:--but the object of her anxious--her -desperate search, was not there;--and, with a groan as it were of -mortal agony, she sank upon the floor. - -The landlady, who entered the room at this moment, and who was not -naturally a bad-hearted being, hastened to raise the miserable woman. -She placed her on a chair, and tore off, rather than quietly removed, -her bonnet and shawl: but Mrs. Mortimer’s jaw fell--her countenance was -ghastly pale--she seemed to be dying. - -On water being sprinkled on her face, she came to herself; and the -landlady said, “What is the matter with you? I can’t understand the -meaning of all this.” - -“I have been robbed--foully robbed,” returned Mrs. Mortimer, in a -hoarse and hollow tone: but she did not reflect that, no matter how -her husband had obtained his money, she had played the part of a foul -robber or extortioner towards _him_. - -“Robbed!--what do you mean?” cried the landlady. “Wasn’t them real -officers as come just now?” - -“No--a thousand times _no_,” ejaculated the old woman, growing -infuriate as her energies revived. “It was a base plot--a vile -design:--but I will be avenged--terribly avenged! He must have found -someone to advise him--some one to assist him in all this! They watched -me--they marked when I went out--and, under pretence of being officers, -they succeeded in searching my box--and, what is worse,” she added, -with a demoniac contortion of the countenance,--“they succeeded in -robbing me!” - -“Was it the old man who did this?” asked the landlady. - -“Yes: that ancient villain, with the pale face,” was the reply. “But -tell me--was not his countenance pale and wrinkled?--and did he not -seem nervously excited while speaking to you?” - -“Just so,” answered the landlady. - -“Ah! I thought that I was not mistaken!” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, in -a tone that indicated a concentration of the most ferocious rage and -diabolical hate in her savage breast. “But leave me now--I must be -alone for a short time--I must ponder upon all this, and determine how -to act. I am not altogether without friends--nor yet without resources.” - -“Well, ma’am,” said the landlady, “I hope you won’t think no more of -what I told you just now--I mean, about leaving the place. Since those -fellers wasn’t officers, and you ain’t a suspicious person, I’m sure I -don’t want to get rid of you.” - -“I shall not leave you quite yet, my good woman,” responded Mrs. -Mortimer; “and I am not angry on account of what you said just now. But -pray let me be alone for the present.” - -The landlady withdrew in obedience to this request; and Mrs. Mortimer -sate down upon the bed to ruminate on the misfortune that had produced -so sudden and deplorable a change in her position. - -Scarcely, however, had she brought her mind to reflect with some degree -of calmness on the situation of her affairs, when she heard heavy and -hasty footsteps ascending the staircase. - -Dreading lest some new calamity were about to overtake her, she -started to her feet in trepidation and nervous excitement: nor was she -reassured when the door was unceremoniously opened, and a man of most -repulsive appearance bounced into the chamber. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXI. - -JACK RILY, THE DOCTOR. - - -The individual who thus intruded himself upon the presence of -the affrighted woman, was about forty years of age--of middle -height--somewhat stout--and of powerful form. He was not corpulent; -but his build denoted immense strength,--his shoulders being broad and -massive, and his limbs of large proportions. His neck was short and -thick, like that of a bull; and his huge hands, when clenched, appeared -as if they could fell an ox or batter down a wall. - -His countenance was perfectly hideous. It was of dark complexion; and -on the right cheek was a large scar of livid red, as if the flesh had -been seared with a hot iron and left to heal without any surgical -assistance. The low but broad forehead was overshadowed with coarse, -black, matted hair, which the man wore long, and which he evidently -much neglected--so that it had a dirty appearance, in spite of its -jetty hue. His eyes were small and dark; and the whites--for we know -not what other name to give them--were of a yellow hue,--so that an -ominous fire seemed to animate those eyes, as if they reflected all -the bad passions of a polluted soul. The nose, which was large, thick, -and coarse, projected all on one side, and had enormous nostrils. Add -to all these elements of ugliness a hare-lip, with an opening so large -that it displayed two of the man’s large white teeth up to the very -gum, and the reader may form a tolerably accurate idea of the repulsive -aspect of this individual. - -He was dressed in a greasy velveteen shooting-jacket, a rusty black -waistcoat, corduroy trowsers, and heavy high-lows; a blue cotton -handkerchief was negligently tied round his neck;--and his shirt, -which was none of the cleanest, was open in front, the buttons being -deficient--so that a portion of his hirsute chest was visible. On his -head he wore an old fur cap of a tawny colour, but sadly stained with -grease, as if it were tossed in any dirty nook or corner when not in -use. - -As the man had no whiskers, and his complexion was so dark, it might -have been supposed that he had some African blood in his veins. Such -was not, however, the case;--he was born in England and of English -parents--aye, and had received an English education likewise. But -nature had given him a hideous aspect; and circumstances had imbued his -soul with the ferocity of a hyena and the subtlety of a serpent. - -It is not often that the savage disposition is characterised by a -profound and latent cunning--because the violence of furious passions -usually absorbs all reflection in its sudden impulses and outbursts. -But this man was ferocious by nature, and subtle in consequence of -possessing a powerful intellect and having received a good education. -Not that intelligence and mental cultivation engender craft and -cunning: no--but they teach the necessity of consideration and -forethought;--and the result, in respect to the individual whom we are -describing, was that he knew the world so well as to be fully aware -that intrigue and machination frequently succeeded where brute force -could accomplish nothing. - -Thus, when there was no need to have recourse to artifice, this man -appeared as a very demon let loose upon society: but when cunning could -gain an end, he was enabled to control his savage propensities and -exercise a complete domination over his ferocious instincts. - -Such was the person who burst upon the view of the terrified Mrs. -Mortimer in the abrupt manner already described. - -She had risen from her seat on the bed, and now stood gazing on him in -speechless apprehension and amazement: but he, not heeding the alarm -which his presence inspired, closed the door carefully behind him, and -then, throwing his greasy cap on a chair, approached the old woman, -saying, “So I understand you have been robbed, ma’am? Well--don’t give -way to despair: I think I can help you to the recovery of your money.” - -“Ah!” ejaculated Mrs. Mortimer, considerably relieved by the hope thus -abruptly held out, and at the same moment animated by the conviction -that the man could not mean her any harm--as she had never seen him -before in her life; and, moreover, the house was neither deserted nor -lonely, and it was now the broad noon-day,--under which circumstances -crimes of violence were seldom perpetrated. - -“Yes--I think I can help you,” repeated the man. “But there is plenty -of time before us--and we must have a chat over the matter in the first -instance.” - -Thus speaking, he seated himself in a free and easy fashion; and -Mrs. Mortimer likewise took a chair--for she had now become deeply -interested in the present visit, despite the revolting ugliness of the -visitor. - -“Who are you?” she asked: “and in what manner do you think you can aid -me?” - -“One question at a time, my dear madam,” returned the fellow, with -cool familiarity. “First then, as to who I am. My name is Rily--Mr. -Rily amongst mere acquaintances--John Rily in a police-sheet--and Jack -Rily amongst intimate friends. But those who know me best call me _the -Doctor_, because, you see, I was brought up to the medical profession. -That was against my tastes, and only in obedience to the wishes of my -parents; and so, as soon as they hopped the twig--which was when I -was about two-and-twenty--I gave up mending broken legs, and took to -breaking into houses. Instead of feeling pulses, I fingered purses--and -found the new profession more profitable. Such a hand as this,” he -continued, with a horrible grin, as he extended his broad and horny -palm, “was rather intended to wield a crow-bar than a lancet, or grasp -a pistol in preference to a scalpel. Now, my dear ma’am, I think you -may begin to suspect who and what I am.” - -“A burglar and a thief,” said Mrs. Mortimer, who had by this time -recovered all her wonted calmness. “Well--you are the more likely to -aid me in my present embarrassment--I mean, in the recovery of my -money: and, of course, you can dictate your own terms.” - -“I am perfectly assured of _that_,” responded the Doctor, again -grinning maliciously with his horrid hare-lip, which seemed as if it -were about to split completely up his cheek. “But, at that same time, -I admit with all possible candour that I cannot act alone in this -business: and therefore you have that guarantee for my good faith.” - -“But in what way do you propose to act?” demanded Mrs. Mortimer, -anxious to arrive at a more satisfactory understanding with her hideous -visitor. - -“I will tell you,” answered Rily. “I am not known at this coffee-house; -and therefore I came in just now to take some refreshment and read the -paper. I saw you enter, and thought that yours was a countenance which -denoted a soul alive to mischief. That was the impression you made -upon me; for I must tell you that I am a bit of a phrenologist in my -way. However, I had almost ceased to think of you, when I saw you come -rushing out of the bar-parlour and bolt up-stairs like a mad woman. -Then I marked your countenance again--and I was seized with admiration -towards you on account of the horrible expression of your features. I -said to myself that if ever I had beheld a she-fiend, I had seen one -then.” - -“I am much obliged to you for the compliment,” observed Mrs. Mortimer, -drily. - -“Let me tell my story in my own way, my dear madam,” exclaimed Jack -Rily, with mock politeness. “Well, I saw you bolt up-stairs, and the -landlady after you; and I knew that there must be something queer in -the wind. So I waited quietly reading the paper until the landlady came -down again; and then I went to the bar to pay my money. A question or -two that I put elicited the information that you had been robbed by -two fellows pretending to be officers having a search-warrant; and the -landlady, in her garrulity, gave me a description of those individuals. -One of them--the old man--I know nothing of: he is a complete stranger -to me;--but the other I do know,--and what is more, I owe him a -grudge--it matters not why or for what. I thereupon told the landlady -that I thought I could help you in the matter; and before she had time -to make any answer, I rushed up to your room to introduce myself to -your notice.” - -“Now I begin to understand you, Mr. Rily,” said the old woman. “You are -acquainted with one of the robbers--you probably know his haunts--and -you have a spite to vent upon him. Is this it?” - -“Just so,” answered the burglar. “You must also learn that the reading -which I had of your countenance convinced me that I might with safety -tell you who and what I am: because I never have any child’s play in -the business I am engaged in. If you want to get back your money, you -must put confidence in me and act as I tell you; and the only way to -make you trust me, is to let you know my real character. You see in me, -then, a cracksman and a prig: but I am stanch to the back-bone amongst -pals.” - -“And on what terms do you propose to aid me?” demanded Mrs. Mortimer. - -“How much have these fellows robbed you of?” asked Rily. - -The old woman hesitated for a few moments: she knew not whether it -were prudent to tell the truth to her new friend, who so deliberately -announced himself as a gentleman exercising a profession which could -not possibly be characterised by any particular scruples or punctilios. - -“Well--just as you like, ma’am,” said Jack, rising from his seat. “By -declaring on to the swag,[16] I may get my reglars[17] from the two -prigs, whom I can easily trace out; and therefore, if you are afraid to -trust me, I shall be off at once. In this case, mind, you will never -see a penny of the money you have lost.” - -“Stay, Mr. Rily--stay!” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, who perfectly -comprehended the man’s meaning, which was to the effect that he _might_ -obtain some of the booty for himself without her co-operation; whereas -she could not recover a shilling unless assisted by him. - -The burglar coolly reseated himself. - -“You asked me of how much I was robbed?” she said, interrogatively. - -“Yes,” was the laconic response. - -“Five thousand four hundred pounds,” observed Mrs. Mortimer. - -“My stars! is it possible?” exclaimed Rily, his horrible countenance -expanding with delight. - -“It is the truth, I can assure you,” rejoined the old woman. - -“Five thousand four hundred pounds,” repeated the burglar, in a slow -and measured tone, as if to prolong the enjoyment of the sweet music -which the mention of such a sum made for his auricular sense. - -“It is a serious loss--is it not?” asked Mrs. Mortimer, anxiously -watching his countenance, its expression denoting hope--nay, even -indicating a certainty of success in the endeavour to recover the -amount: but that same tablet of the mind gave no assurance that the -man would act honourably towards her in the end, and content himself -only with a share. - -“Five thousand four hundred pounds!” he again repeated, in a musing -tone. “Yes--’tis a serious loss! The recovery, however, would be two -thousand seven hundred a-piece: would that suit you?” he demanded, -turning abruptly towards her. - -“What?” she said, affecting not to comprehend the question. - -“Will you agree to give me one half of the sum, if I recover the -whole?” asked Rily. “That is plain English, I believe--and now it -depends on you whether our conversation shall be prolonged or not.” - -“Yes--I will cheerfully give you one half,” returned Mrs. Mortimer, -making up her mind to keep to the bargain only in the case of her -inability to depart from it with safety to herself. - -“Well and good,” resumed Rily. “I must now inform you that the tall -fellow who was with the old man is one of the most noted cracksmen -in London--a desperate ruffian, who would think no more of shooting -a person through the head than of eating his dinner. What his real -name is, I don’t know--I never heard--although he and I have been -acquainted for years past: but he is called _Vitriol Bob_, from a -little peculiarity which he has introduced into _his_ professional mode -of doing business.” - -“I do not catch your meaning,” said Mrs. Mortimer--though not without -a shudder; for she _did_ entertain a vague suspicion of the frightful -origin of that singular pseudonym. - -“I’ll explain myself more fully, ma’am,” returned the Doctor, “since -we have all the day before us, and may chatter a bit to while away -the time. You see that the individual of whom we are speaking, -has an awkward knack of lurking about in bye-streets and secluded -neighbourhoods, to way-lay gentlemen who happen to have gold chains -hanging over their waistcoats or out of their fobs: for those little -articles are pretty faithful evidences that the purses of such folks -are not entirely empty. Well, in case of a struggle, our friend is -apt to break a phial of vitriol over the face of his opponent, so -that he may get away, and also that the said opponent may be blinded, -and unable to identify him on any future occasion. Hence his name of -_Vitriol Bob_; and such is the terror he has inspired throughout the -districts of Kennington, Camberwell, Peckham, and thereabouts, that the -moment any gentleman returning home from a party or from the tavern -hears the ominous sound of ‘_Your money or your eyes_,’ he exclaims, -‘_Don’t throw the vitriol, and I’ll give up everything_.’” - -“Is this possible?” cried Mrs. Mortimer, with a shudder that was colder -and more perceptible than the former one. - -“Oh! quite possible, ma’am, I can assure you,” said the Doctor, calmly. -“You shall see Vitriol Bob to-night--and then judge for yourself -whether he looks like a fellow who could do such a thing, or not. A -more hang-dog countenance you never saw in your life. I know that I am -not particularly handsome,” he added with a horrible grin and leer: -“but I don’t look quite such a bravo as he does.” - -Mrs. Mortimer thought that if Vitriol Bob were more hideous in outward -appearance than Jack Rily, he must be frightful indeed. - -“This is the chap we shall have to deal with to-night,” continued the -burglar; “and therefore, as you perceive, we must go well prepared to -play the game properly. Who his companion is in the robbery, I can’t -make out----” - -“But I know,” interrupted Mrs. Mortimer, hastily: “he is a -poor--weak--emaciated--nervous old man, whom I will undertake to subdue -and even bind with cords in a few moments. Oh! he shall find me a very -tiger-cat let loose upon him!” she added, her countenance suddenly -expressing a hyena-like ferocity. - -“Now you do seem handsome--royally handsome--although in reality you -are so infernally ugly!” exclaimed Jack Rily. “That is the way in which -I like to see a woman look. Why--perdition seize me! but I could almost -love you. What a splendid couple we should make!” - -And the idea tickled the wretch’s fancy to such an extent, that he -laughed until the tears streamed from his yellow eyes, and ran down his -dark countenance, while his hare-lip opened so wide that all his upper -teeth--large, perfect, white, and even--were displayed to the gums. - -“Cease this disgusting mirth, sir,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, unable to -restrain her feelings: for--ugly, criminal, and morally degraded as she -knew herself to be--the observations of the monster and his consequent -hilarity outraged her cruelly. - -“Come--come; we must not be bad friends,” said Jack Rily, extending -his huge palm towards the old woman, who proffered her hand in return -through fear of offending the wretch that had become too useful for -her to lose him until the contemplated business should have been -accomplished. “There--that’s right,” he added, as he shook her hand -with a violence that made her wince: “now there is no ill-feeling -between us. But really you must pardon me for what I said, and -also forbear from taking offence so easily should I fall into such -remarks again. For, look you, madam,--I do not care about female -beauty--neither is old age disgusting to me. What I admire in a woman -is her disposition--her _mind_: and when I see you flaring up like a -hell-rat--when I behold you waxing infuriate as a beldame--I love you -better than if you was the most lovely virgin on the face of the earth. -However--enough of that----” - -“Enough indeed!” cried Mrs. Mortimer, who experienced the most -ineffable repugnance--the most profound loathing for the monster that -thus dinned his hideous idiosyncrasies in her ears: but, veiling her -abhorrence as much as she could, she said, “And now, perhaps, you will -have the goodness to inform me how you intend to proceed in order to -recover this large sum of money.” - -“The explanation is simple enough,” responded the Doctor. “Vitriol Bob -has a particular haunt--a certain lurking-hole, not a hundred miles -from here; and I happen to know where the place is. In fact, Bob and I -have been pals for a long, long time----” - -“I thought you told me just now that you had a spite against him?” -interrupted Mrs. Mortimer, fixing her eyes keenly upon the Doctor, as -if to read the secrets of his inmost soul and learn whether he were -deceiving her. - -“Ah! you may look, ma’am--and look as searchingly as you like,” -exclaimed Jack Rily, who understood what was passing in her mind: “but -you won’t find me out in any contradiction--nor yet to telling you -any lies. I said that Vitriol Bob and I had been friends for a long -time--and I said truly. But that doesn’t prevent me from having a -hankering to be avenged for a trick he played me, and which he does -not think I even suspect. The fact is, we robbed a house together; -and Bob in ransacking a chest of drawers, got hold of a bag full of -sovereigns. He stuck to them, and never uttered a word about them when -we afterwards divided the swag. I found it out through an advertisement -that appeared in the papers offering a reward for the apprehension -of the burglars, and specifying the things stolen. He never saw that -advertisement, I know; and I did not tell him of it. I however swore to -have my turn against him sooner or later;--and I bided my time. That -time is now come--and I shall let him know it before many hours are -over his head.” - -“But are you certain that you can find him? and, even supposing that -you do succeed in tracing him to his lurking-hole, how do you know that -the old man will be there also?” demanded Mrs. Mortimer. - -“There is no tracing out Vitriol Bob in the matter,” exclaimed Jack -Rily. “The moment he has committed a robbery, he always goes straight -to his usual haunt, and remains there for a few days till the storm -has blown over. As a mere precaution, he will compel his pal--this -old man--to go with him; because if the latter was taken up by the -Detectives, he might be induced to peach against Bob--and all that. -So I am sure we shall find them together: unless, indeed,” added the -Doctor, in a tone of diminishing confidence,--“unless, I say, the old -man knows that you dare not raise a hue and cry touching this robbery.” - -“On the contrary,” returned Mrs. Mortimer, “that old man, whose name -is Torrens, has every reason to believe that I would persecute him -with the most implacable vengeance which a human being is capable of -experiencing or inflicting.” - -“So much the better!” cried Jack Rily, grinning joyously: “in this case -we are sure of our prey.” - -“And is the game to be played by violence, or by cunning?” asked Mrs. -Mortimer. - -“By violence, my good lady--by violence, to be sure!” responded -the burglar, his eyes glowing savagely, with their ominous yellow -lustre--as if the orbs of a tiger were glaring upon the woman: and, -though the gorgeous sun-light was flooding the small chamber with -its golden haze, still shone that yellow lustre apart--distinct--and -sinister. - -“By violence?” repeated Mrs. Mortimer, awful thoughts relative to -Vitriol Bob’s peculiar mode of proceeding rushing in upon her soul. - -“How can it be done otherwise?” demanded Jack Rily. “When I first came -up to you just now, I was going to propose to enlist in the service a -pal of mine--and of Vitriol Bob’s also--who would aid and assist: but -then he would require his thirds as a matter of course. Since, however, -you have informed me that Bob’s companion in the robbery is an old, -emaciated, feeble man, and that you can master him by yourself, you and -I will keep the business in our own hands. I will undertake to tackle -Vitriol Bob, if you will make sure of the other.” - -“And supposing that your opponent should overpower you?” said Mrs. -Mortimer. - -“I will take care that he does not,” returned Rily. “Trust me to subdue -him----” - -“And without bloodshed?” observed the old woman, shuddering--for, -depraved and wicked as she was, she grew cold and her heart sank within -her at the idea of murder. - -“Come, if you’re squeamish, you had better abandon the project and -leave it all to me,” said the Doctor. “If Vitriol Bob should place my -life in danger, at that moment he is a dead man. Self-preservation, -ma’am, is the first law of nature. At the same time, I shall not kill -_him_, unless it is to save _myself_: of this you may be assured.” - -The old woman remained silent for some moments. Should she embark -in an enterprise so replete with danger?--should she incur the risk -of becoming an accomplice in a murder? She trembled at the thought: -and yet her money--the money that she had come over to England to -obtain--would be totally lost to her were she to shrink from the -endeavour to recover it. It was true that, even if it were regained, -one half would pass into the hands of a stranger: but was it not better -to return to Paris with two thousand seven hundred pounds in her -pocket, than with an empty purse? The stake was worth venturing;--and -her indecision vanished. - -“I am _not_ squeamish in the matter,” she said at length. “Our bargain -and our arrangements hold good in all respects. That villain Torrens -shall not have the laugh against me: on the contrary, I must be avenged -upon him!” - -“There!--now you are my fine old hyena--my adorable tiger-cat, once -again!” cried the Doctor. “I long to see you pounce upon old Torrens, -as you call him; and I would give the best five years of my life, -could I endow you with a complete set of claws, instead of those -comparatively harmless finger-nails! Wouldn’t you tear his eyes out of -his head? wouldn’t you strike them deep into his flesh? Do you know -that Satan will obtain a glorious acquisition when the time comes for -him to make a fiend of you?” - -And again the monster’s horrible hilarity rang through the little -chamber, as he threw himself back in the chair and laughed with the -most savage heartiness. - -“For mercy’s sake! cease this unnatural gaiety,” exclaimed the old -woman, scarcely able to subdue her rage. - -“Oh! I must laugh,” cried the wretch, sputtering through his frightful -hare-lip,--“if it is only to make you look as ferocious as you do now.” - -Mrs. Mortimer turned towards the window with disgust; and the wretch’s -mirth died away in guttural sounds. - -“Come, now--I told you that you must not be angry with me, madam,” -he said, at length. “It is my nature to laugh heartily at times--and -surely you won’t check such an innocent propensity. But I will take my -leave of you now; and at half-past ten to-night we must meet at some -place as near Stamford Street as you choose.” - -“Where shall it be?” asked the old woman. “Name the spot--and I shall -be punctual to the moment.” - -“There is a narrow lane running along the side of Christ Church -burial-ground,” responded the burglar, after a few moments’ reflection: -“it leads from the Blackfriars Road into Collingwood Street----I -suppose you know London well----” - -“Oh! perfectly. Go on,” said Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Well--we will meet in that crooked lane at half-past ten exactly,” -continued Jack Rily. “By the by,” he added, rising from his chair, -“you had better tell the landlady down stairs that you found out I -could do nothing for you, and that you have resigned yourself to put up -with your loss. It will prevent her from suspecting anything queer on -account of your going out so late and remaining away an hour or so.” - -“Leave that to me,” replied Mrs. Mortimer: “I shall know how to make -all the excuses that are necessary. Indeed, if we are successful, I -shall not return again to this place,” she observed, sinking her voice -to a low whisper. - -“Well--that is your business. And now good-bye for the present: at -half-past ten we meet in the place appointed.” - -Mrs. Mortimer spoke a few words of assent; and the Doctor took his -departure, bestowing upon the woman a familiar nod, accompanied by -a grin and a leer, before he crossed the threshold and closed the -chamber-door behind him. - -When Mrs. Mortimer was left alone, she began to ponder deeply upon the -particulars of this interview which had just terminated. - -The man knew the hiding-place where it was presumed that Vitriol Bob -and Torrens had taken refuge; and it was doubtless some cellar or -dangerous place, where a crime might be committed with impunity, as -well as where the perpetrators of crime might conceal themselves. -Then, what guarantee had she that Rily would not make her his victim, -after availing himself of her services in subduing the plunderers and -recovering the stolen treasure? - -She shuddered as she thought of the peril into which she was about to -precipitate herself: she trembled from head to foot as she pondered -upon the desperate character of the man who was to be her companion in -the night’s enterprise. - -And yet--in spite of his revolting ugliness and his avowal of a dark -career of turpitude--there was something like fairness in his speech -respecting a partner in any enterprise in which he might be engaged: -moreover, had he not shown, by the mere fact of the spite which he -cherished against Vitriol Bob, that his ideas of the honour that ought -to prevail even amongst thieves, were of a fixed and positive nature? -Lastly, had he not stipulated upon the precise amount that he was -to retain for his services? And would he be thus minute and nice in -details, if he cherished the intention of self-appropriating the whole? - -These arguments, which Mrs. Mortimer seriously revolved in her mind, -may not perhaps appear very convincing nor very satisfactory to the -reader; for, after all, they were only so many suppositions placed in -juxta-position with the atrocious character of an avowed desperado. But -let it be remembered that we often reason ourselves into what we _wish_ -to believe, rather than into what we _ought_ to believe; and we tutor -our minds to put faith in those opinions that best suit our interests -rather than our safety. This is like “hoping against hope:” still it -is a general characteristic of human nature; and Mrs. Mortimer’s case -proved no exception to the general rule. - -In fine, she came to the conclusion that Jack Rily was a monstrous -rogue in respect to the world, but an honest man towards his pals--that -he would strip society, were society a single individual, of its -last shirt, but would not lay his finger on the costliest robe if on -the back of an accomplice--and that he meant to act, with regard to -herself, in the fairest way possible. - -Whether her expectations were fulfilled, will shortly appear. - -We cannot, however, close this chapter without recording a few comments -upon that extraordinary disposition in human nature to reason one-self -into the belief which one wishes to adopt, to the repudiation of that -which one ought to adopt. For instance, the man who is floundering -about in a perfect morass of pecuniary troubles, from which he cannot -possibly see any chance of emerging, incessantly dins in his own mental -ears the most absurd sophisms to convince himself that his position -is not so desperate as it appears. “Well, something must turn up,” he -says: “things are sure to take a turn soon. I can get Jones to renew -the bill which he holds of mine, when it becomes due--Tomkins will -hold his bill over for a few weeks--and Brown will lend me the money -to satisfy Smith.” In this manner does the poor devil go on with his -castle-building, until he can no longer blow from his imagination’s -pipe another soap-bubble wherewith to amuse himself. Jones positively -refuses to renew--Tomkins proves inexorable in his demand for -instantaneous payment--Brown, having heard of his difficulties, will -not lend him a farthing--and Smith, anything but satisfied, puts a -clencher on the whole through the medium of the sheriffs’-officer. -Then, when the self-deluded wretch awakes from his dream, on finding -himself in gaol or on his way to the Bankruptcy Court, he says to -himself in the bitterness of his spirit, “I always knew it would come -to this!”--although for years he had been straining every effort of the -imagination to lull his mind into a contrary belief! - -In the same way does the bashful lover, who has not as yet proposed -to the object of his affections, but who nevertheless longs to do so, -yet fears, because he has seen her smile more sweetly upon a handsomer -youth than ever she did on him,--in the same way does he strive to -persuade himself that she _does_ really love him--that he has observed -stealthy glances cast from her brilliant eyes towards him--that her -hand has trembled in his own--that her voice has faltered when she has -responded to his common-place remarks upon the weather, the opera, -and the new novel--that it is a mere flirtation between herself and -the _other_ handsome youth,--in fine, that she is dying to receive -the proposal which he has not the courage to make. And in this manner -does he tutor himself to lead a life of “pleasing pain,” though all -the while aware that the sorest misgivings lie at the bottom of his -heart, beneath the superstructure of delusive hopes and fond imaginings -which perforce he has conjured up there. Then, when at last he hears -from some kind friend that the beautiful Miss So-and-so was married -yesterday morning to the handsome young gentleman whom she had loved -all along, the self-deluded wretch exclaims, “Ah! I never thought that -she cared a fig for _me_!” - -But worse--oh! far worse is it with the criminal! Let us take, for -instance, the confidential clerk, who, for the sake of a mistress or -through love of fine clothes and ostentatious display amongst his -acquaintances, pilfers from his master’s till. At first his peculations -were small and insignificant; but, being undiscovered, he grows bolder -and more deeply guilty,--while he endeavours to reason himself out of -the agonising fears that haunt him day and night--pursue him like the -spectres of murdered victims--and turn his wine into gall, and the -sweets of Beauty’s lip into bitterness. “It is impossible that I can -be detected,” he mentally exclaims a thousand times in an hour: “my -precautions are so well devised. In a large business such as this, a -few shillings are not missed. Besides, I so arrange the entries in -the books that the expenditure and the receipts are proportionate. -My employer, too, is kinder towards me than ever: I possess his -confidence--not for an instant would he suspect me! And even if I were -found out,--not that I can be,--but, I say, even if I were, he would -not suffer me to be disgraced--he would hush it up: he would never let -_me_ be dragged into the felon’s dock.” Thus will the infatuated being -reason on, although he sees that his master _is_ growing cold in his -manner, and that there _is_ a suspicion of foul play somewhere,--until -at length the explosion takes place--the self-deluded mortal is hurried -to a felon’s gaol--his employer proves inveterate and inexorable--he -is doomed to transportation--and in the convict-ship he exclaims in -terrible anguish of mind, while writhing as if in mortal agony upon his -hard pallet, “Fool that I was not to have stopped short while it was -yet time: for I always foresaw that this must inevitably be the end of -it all!” - -Gentle reader--never against your own settled convictions endeavour to -set up a fabric of delusion: you may at length succeed in throwing the -former into the background, and persuading yourself to believe that the -latter is a substantial truth;--but you will in the long run discover -to your cost that you have stepped out of the broad and straight -highroad to flounder amidst the perils of an interminable bog. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXII. - -A MAIDEN’S FIRST LOVE. - - -The day, the incidents of which we are describing, and which are so -numerous and diversified, was destined to be a memorable one in the -life of Agnes Vernon. - -The young maiden, on abruptly quitting Mrs. Mortimer, returned to the -cottage; and, seating herself at the table in the elegant parlour, -she arranged her drawing materials with the intention of continuing a -landscape which she had commenced a few days previously. - -But she was unsettled and restless: new sensations stole upon her--new -feelings were excited in her bosom. - -The solitude of the cottage suddenly appeared to be irksome; and she -felt discontented with her condition--she knew not why. - -Laying down her pencil, she rose from her seat, approached the window, -and gazed forth upon the open country. - -A carriage passed by: in it were two young ladies and two young -gentlemen--and they were all in high spirits, conversing cheerfully and -laughing gaily. Agnes sighed--for the thought struck her that she too -might be happy, and she too might laugh gaily, if she only had friends -and companions! - -Presently a lady and gentleman, each on horseback, passed along the -road in front of the cottage. They were proceeding at a very gentle -pace, and were engaged in conversation. The veil was raised from the -fair Amazon’s countenance, and was thrown back over her riding-hat; -her cheeks were blooming with a carnation tinge, and her eyes were -bent with melting tenderness on her companion, whose face was turned -towards her, and whose language was doubtless pleasing to her ears. -The countenance of that lady indicated such real pleasure--denoted -such pure and genuine happiness, that again did a sigh escape from the -bosom of Agnes Vernon, as she marvelled why she herself was retained -in the prisonage of solitude, while other maidens of her own age had -their acquaintances and their associates, and were allowed to divert -themselves in walking or riding about the rural lanes and the roads -that stretched amidst the green fields. - -Never before had anything in the form of repining--never until this -time had a sentiment partaking of discontent, arisen in the breast -of Agnes Vernon. She endeavoured to conquer the feeling: she turned -away from the window and played with a beautiful canary bird that -fluttered from its perch towards the front of its handsome cage the -moment she approached it;--but its chirping sounded no longer as sweet -music in her ears--and, in the natural goodness of her gentle soul, -she reproached herself for her indifference to the joyous testimonials -offered by the little feathered chorister to its mistress. - -She resumed her seat, and once more directed her attention to her -drawing: but she felt in no humour for an employment that until now was -amongst her most favourite recreations. Closing her portfolio, she took -up “Ivanhoe,” in order to read the concluding pages of the tale: she -however found her thoughts speedily wandering to other subjects,--the -letter of Lord William Trevelyan--the discourse of Mrs. Mortimer--and -the abrupt termination of her interview with that female. Throwing -aside the book, she seated herself at the piano, and ran her taper -fingers over the keys: but the music had no cheering influence upon -her--produced no soothing effect on her restless soul. - -Vexed and annoyed with herself for what she could not help, and almost -alarmed at the change which had come over her, despite of her exertions -to the contrary, the bewildered maiden returned to the garden and -gathered fresh flowers wherewith to fill the vases in the parlour: -but the tulip seemed less beautiful, the rose less fragrant, and the -pink less sweet than she had ever before known them;--and her task was -accomplished hurriedly and even neglectfully. - -At length she sought an arbour in the most shady and retired part of -the garden; and there--alone with her own thoughts--she fell into a -profound reverie upon her secluded life, the mystery that enveloped her -condition, the letter of Lord William Trevelyan, and the explanations -that Mrs. Mortimer had given her respecting the passion of love. - -For, oh! the gentle Agnes loved now:--hence this restlessness--hence -this change which had come upon her! - -She did not blame herself for the part she had enacted in respect -to Trevelyan’s letter: her conscience told her that she had behaved -with prudence and propriety;--but she was grieved to think that any -words which had fallen from the lips of Mrs. Mortimer should have cast -suspicion upon the sincerity of the individual who had penned the -contents of that missive. - -Then she thought within herself that perhaps the old woman had deceived -her--that Trevelyan could not possibly empower his messenger to -contradict with her lips the assurances he had committed to paper! - -“Did he not say in his letter that he sought no secresy nor concealment -in respect to my father?” she asked herself, in the course of her -musings: “how, then, could he prompt his agent to enjoin the necessity -of such secresy and such concealment? Ah! she has deceived _me_--and I -have wronged _him_!” - -A feeling of bitterness smote the tender heart of Agnes as she came to -this conclusion: but, in the course of a few moments, the idea struck -her that if Lord William Trevelyan received a faithful report of the -particulars of her interview with Mrs. Mortimer that morning, he would -recognise the propriety of her conduct in returning the letter. - -But, ah! had she not bade Mrs. Mortimer desire the young nobleman to -think no more of Agnes Vernon?--and might he not obey the injunction? - -Poor, innocent Agnes! thine own love is as yet only in its infancy--and -therefore thou comprehendest not the extent of that devotion which -Trevelyan’s bosom harbours with regard to thee! Although within the -space of a few hours thou hast learnt thy first lesson in the school -of love, and though thy mental vision has obtained some insight into -the mysteries of that passion which has at length shed its influence -on thee,--although a portion of the veil has fallen from thine eyes, -and thou canst now read more of the human heart than ever thou could’st -before,--nevertheless, it is but a nascent flame--a germinating -affection that animates thee,--a feeling as yet vague and undefinable: -for thou art still so much the child of natural simplicity and artless -ingenuousness, that thou canst not entertain a conception of the -lasting and persevering nature of love;--thou knowest not enough of its -essence and its power to initiate in thine imagination the thought that -Trevelyan would no more heed thine injunction, even if it reached his -ears, than the tempest will obey the human voice which dares to order -its fury to subside! - -For some hours did the beauteous Agnes remain in the arbour, plunged in -love’s first reverie; and when the pretty housemaid appeared to inform -her that dinner was served up, Miss Vernon started from the seat, -exclaiming, “Is it possible that it can be four o’clock? I did not -suppose that it was more than an hour past mid-day?” - -Jane cast a look of surprise upon her mistress--but said nothing; and -almost immediately afterwards the servant ceased to remember that -there had been anything peculiar in the young lady’s manner--for Agnes -composed her countenance, recalled her scattered thoughts, and hurried -back to the cottage,--so that this very haste on her part was mistaken -by the domestic for her usual gleesomeness of disposition. - -The afternoon repast was soon disposed of; and Agnes returned to the -garden, where she roamed about until the hour of sunset approached. The -evening was warm and beautiful--the air was fragrant with the perfume -of the flowers--and the hum of insect life was heard around. The scene -had a soothing effect upon the young maiden’s soul; and, though she -was wearied, she was unwilling as yet to return to the cottage. She -felt less lonely in the spacious garden than she should be, as she well -knew, in that parlour where she had vainly endeavoured in the morning -to divert herself with her drawings, her music, and her books. - -We know not how it was--but more than once during this evening ramble -in her garden, did Agnes Vernon pass by that very spot where she had -stood in the morning when held in conversation with Mrs. Mortimer. -Those who love, or who have loved, will probably assert that it was -the influence of some vague and undefined hope which thus occasionally -directed the maiden’s footsteps thither,--a hope which nature prompted, -although thus dimly, and in spite of the virgin purity and immaculate -candour of her soul,--a hope, in fine, which whispered, softly as -zephyr’s breath, in her ear, that Trevelyan’s messenger _might_ return -with an assurance from him that no instructions which he had given to -that emissary in any way militated against the honourable, frank, and -straightforward declarations contained in his letter. - -And now, then, behold the beauteous Agnes standing on the very spot -where in the morning she had read the letter that first awoke a -scintillation of love’s fire in her bosom: behold her, motionless as -a statue, amidst the foliage of that secluded part of the garden--her -white dress delineating the soft and graceful outlines of her -symmetrical form--and the rays of the sun, now low in the western -horizon, playing upon her angelic countenance, as they penetrated -through the trees that skirted the lane overlooked by the hedge. - -Suddenly the maiden starts and listens--like the timid roe disturbed in -the forest by a far-off sound resembling the bay of the hound. - -The noise of wheels and of horses’ hoofs falls upon her ear: nearer and -nearer that noise approaches--the vehicle is evidently coming down the -lane! - -Yet why does her heart palpitate?--why seems it like the fluttering -bird in its cage? Is it an unusual thing for a carriage or a cart to -pass that way? No: but there is in the maiden’s soul a presentiment -that the occurrence _now_ is not altogether unconnected with her -destinies. - -The sounds cease: the vehicle, whatever it may be, has stopped--and -silence once more reigns around. - -The sun is sinking lower and lower in the western horizon: yet it is -still quite light;--but the ruddy lustre of the setting orb imparts a -deep autumnal hue to the foliage--brings out into bolder relief the -ripening apples, the yellow pears, and the crimson cherries that gem -the boughs with their fruitage--and imparts a delicate glow to the -beauteous countenance of the young lady, as, with lips apart and in -attitude of suspense, she listens to catch the slightest sound that may -indicate the approach of a human being. - -And now there is a rustling as of silk and a tread as of light -footsteps; and Agnes, who, in consequence of the surface of the garden -being much higher than the lane on the other side of the hedge, can -look over that verdant boundary,--Agnes beholds a lady advancing -rapidly down the narrow thoroughfare. - -A feeling of disappointment seizes upon her: she sees that it is not -Mrs. Mortimer--and something tells her that Trevelyan would not employ -another female emissary. - -[Illustration] - -Then it strikes her that she ought to rejoice that no farther progress -should be made in the young nobleman’s suit during her father’s -absence; and she feels that she has done wrong even to remain standing -in that spot under the influence of a contrary expectation and of a -tender though dimly significant hope. - -With a sigh, the beauteous creature is about to turn away and re-enter -the cottage, when,--oh! wonder and amazement!--with renewed suspense -and reviving hope, she hears herself called by her name--called, too, -in the tenderest, most melting tones of a woman’s voice. - -“Agnes--dearest Agnes! Stay--oh! stay--if only for a few moments! -Stay--I implore you--beloved girl: you know not who it is that thus -addresses you!” - -These words were uttered in a voice of warm and passionate -affection--so that a deep and absorbing interest was at once created -in the bosom of Agnes towards that lady of whose handsome countenance -she had now a full view, and the earnest, appealing expression of whose -features gave additional import to her enthusiastic exclamations. - -“Madam--I will stay--I will not depart immediately,” faltered Agnes, -forgetting her father’s injunctions relative to the caution which she -was to exercise in regard to strangers: “but how do you know who I -am?--and who are you?” - -“Oh! that she should ask me who I am!” cried the lady, clasping her -hands together in deep anguish. “But how beautiful she is!” exclaimed -the stranger, in an altered and rejoicing tone: “how faithful, too, is -the portrait! Agnes--dearest Agnes--I have much to say to you--much -to impart that you will be delighted to learn: but must we continue -to discourse thus, with this barrier between us? Can you not come to -me?--or will you permit me to come to you? I long--oh! how I long to -embrace you, dear girl that you are; and though we are but a few feet -apart--yet does this garden-boundary separate us most cruelly!” - -“Madam--I know not how to answer you,” murmured Agnes, strange -feelings of mingled pleasure, apprehension, and hope agitating in her -heart, as if that heart were a well of deep, inexhaustible, and yet -incomprehensible emotions. “Your words seem to move me more than I can -explain----” - -“Yes--Agnes--dear Agnes,” ejaculated the lady, stretching out her arms -in an appealing manner towards the maiden: “’tis the voice of nature -that speaks within you! But you hesitate to trust yourself with me? -Ah! doubtless you have been warned--doubtless you have been urged to -act with caution----Oh! my God--that you should look with an eye of -suspicion upon me!” - -And with these words, which were uttered in a tone indicative of the -most acute anguish, the lady burst into a flood of tears. - -Agnes stood blanched, and trembling, and speechless,--having a deep -conviction that the lady’s fate was in some way linked with her -own--yet not daring to form a conjecture as to the nature of the tie -that thus mysteriously bound them together. A secret impulse appeared -to urge her towards the weeping stranger; and she felt that were the -arms again extended towards her, and were there no barrier in her way, -she should precipitate herself upon that stranger’s bosom, that they -might mingle their tears together and interchange the sympathies that -already drew them to each other. - -“Agnes--dearest Agnes,” exclaimed the lady, suddenly breaking silence -and wiping away the traces of her grief,--speaking, too, in a voice of -heart-touching appeal,--“I implore you to come to me--or to show me how -I may enter those precincts without being observed by the inmates of -the dwelling! But, say--tell me,” she added, a sudden thought striking -her,--“is he--your father--_there_?” - -“My father is in Paris,” replied Agnes: “he----” - -“Thank God!” ejaculated the stranger, with an enthusiasm that -astonished and even startled the maiden. “But Mrs. Gifford--is she -still alive?--is she still in attendance on you?” - -“She is in the house at this moment,” returned Agnes, more and more -surprised at these questions--not only on account of their nature, -which showed that the lady was acquainted with many circumstances -regarding her condition; but also in consequence of the vehemence with -which they were put. - -“Then how can I join you in that garden?” demanded the lady, in a tone -of bitter disappointment. “Oh! Agnes, you know not how ardent are the -yearnings--how intense the longings that prompt me even to dash through -this hedge and fold you to my bosom! Cruel girl--keep me not thus in an -agony of suspense; but come--come to my arms--as if I were your mother!” - -“My mother!” exclaimed Agnes, in a voice of mingled hope and -amazement--while such indescribable emotions started into existence in -her bosom, that she felt overpowered by their influence, and staggering -back a few paces, would have fallen to the ground had she not leant -against a tree for support. - -“Agnes--Agnes!” cried the lady, imploringly: “give not way to thoughts -that will deprive you of your presence of mind--for you need all your -self-possession now! Agnes--dear Agnes--answer me----” - -“Who are you? O heaven! such strange ideas--such wild hopes--such -bewildering presentiments crowd upon my soul,” exclaimed the beauteous -maiden, “that I know not how to act nor what to conjecture!” - -And, again approaching the hedge, she passed her hand across her brow, -throwing from her face the shower of curls that had fallen in disorder -over that charming countenance--the luxuriant locks having been -disturbed by the movement given to the neat little straw bonnet when -she staggered against the tree. - -“You ask me who I am,” said the lady: “oh! pity my suspense--have mercy -upon me--come to my arms--and I will tell you all.” - -“Stay there, madam--dear madam,” cried Agnes, without another instant’s -hesitation--so earnest, so pathetic was that last appeal: “and I will -join you at all risks!” - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXIII. - -HOPES FULFILLED. - - -Without pausing to reflect upon the step which she was -taking--forgetful of all the injunctions she had received from her -father, and all the promises of prudence and caution which she had made -to him--obedient only to the irresistible impulse of her feelings--as -if nature’s voice rose dominant above a sire’s mandates,--the Recluse -of the Cottage disappeared from the view of the lady, who remained in -the path outside the garden, a prey to the most torturing fear lest the -young maiden should be intercepted by the inmates of the dwelling. - -But Agnes was not compelled to pass through the house in order to gain -egress from the premises. From the stable-yard a gate opened into -the lane; and by this avenue did she proceed--so that there was no -necessity to exercise any wariness or precaution. Had the contrary been -the case--had she been compelled to pause in order to reflect how she -was to escape the notice of the servants, her artlessness of character -and purity of soul would have prompted her to wait and reflect whether -she were acting in accordance with her father’s counsels. She would -then have flown straight to consult Mrs. Gifford; and the result would -have been inimical to the hopes and wishes of the lady who was so -anxiously expecting her in the lane. - -But as nothing impeded the maiden’s progress, nor forced her to stay -her steps even for a single instant,--the gate being always left open -during the day-time for the convenience of the gardeners, and these -men being engaged in front of the house on the present occasion,--the -current of her thoughts, impelling her towards the lady, received no -hindrance--no check; and in a few moments Agnes was speeding along the -lane, with a heart influenced by emotions of hope, curiosity, suspense, -and wild aspiration. - -For that word “Mother”--that dear, delightful word, which had so seldom -fallen on her ears, and which in an instant excited so many pleasurable -reflections--so many ineffable feelings in her soul,--that word which, -as if with electric inspiration, had suddenly opened to her view an -elysium of the affections which she had never known before, and which -gave promises of felicity the holiest and the purest,--that word, so -fraught with the tenderest sympathies to one who had hitherto lived -in a semi-orphan state,--that word it was which exercised a magic -influence upon the maiden--absorbed all other considerations--and -rendered her impatient to hear more from the same lips whence this word -had come. - -And yet she could not have accounted, had she paused to search, for -the spring of the excitement that now ruled her actions. It was not -that she cherished the conviction of finding a mother in the lady who -was waiting to embrace her; but she did half suspect that such would be -the case,--and she certainly hoped--oh! most fervently hoped that she -was not destined to experience disappointment. The very artlessness of -her disposition made her sanguine;--and under these influences did she -hasten along. - -The lady advanced to meet her;--and in a few moments they were clasped -in each other’s arms. - -“My child--my dearest child!” murmured the fond mother, who had indeed -recovered a daughter in Agnes Vernon. - -“Oh! Is it possible?” exclaimed the beautiful creature, in an ecstasy -of joy: “is it possible that you are my parent?” - -“I am, my beloved Agnes--I am: and heaven can attest that, though -separated from thee since thine infancy, I have never ceased to think -of thee--never ceased to love thee!” - -A faintness now came upon Agnes;--and her mother felt that she was -clinging the more firmly to her in a convulsive effort to prevent -herself from falling. - -“Lean on me, my child--here--let me sustain you, my darling Agnes!” -cried the lady. “Oh! how happy am I at this moment--with thee in my -arms! But----My God! she faints!” - -And the maiden, overcome by her emotions, fell into a state of -insensibility. - -The lady carried her in her arms along the lane: great was the strength -which now animated the mother who had just recovered a long-lost -daughter;--and in a few minutes a hackney-coach, that was waiting -higher up the avenue, received the precious burthen. - -When Agnes came to herself, she started as if, on waking from a -delicious dream, she feared that it might prove all a delusion: but -when, by the rays of the setting sun which streamed through the open -windows of the vehicle, she beheld the handsome, pleasing, and yet -mournful countenance of her mother bending over her, a glow of joy -suffused the charming creature’s face--and, throwing her arms around -her parent’s neck, she exclaimed, “Oh! tell me that it is not a dream! -assure me once more who you are!” - -“I am your mother, Agnes dearest--your own fond and loving mother, who -has languished after you for years, and who will never separate from -you again, unless by your own consent, or through the stern decree of -an iron tyranny! Yes, Agnes--I am your mother;--and, beautiful though -you be, I may without vanity declare that the stamp of nature proclaims -you to be my child?” - -“Yes--and my own heart’s emotions assure me that you are indeed my -parent,” said the lovely girl. “But you observed that we should not -part without my consent. Oh! can you suppose, dear mother, that I -should ever ask to leave you--ever seek to separate myself from you?” - -“No, my child--I am sure that you will not!” exclaimed the lady. “At -the same time, Agnes,” she added, in a different and mournful tone, “it -is my duty to inform you that if you choose to live with me, you must -resign all hope of seeing your father again--at least for two years----” - -“Oh! say not so!” ejaculated Agnes, bursting into tears. “Surely it -must be with my father’s knowledge that you came to see me--that you -are taking me away with you. And yet,” she added, a sudden reminiscence -flashing to her mind, and causing her to start painfully,--“and yet, -I recollect now that I left the garden stealthily--that you urged me -to come round to you in the lane, unperceived by the servants--that -you knew not my father was in Paris. Oh! mother, mother,” cried the -young girl, again interrupting herself, and speaking with a burst -of anguish,--“what does all this mean? Whom am I to obey--you or my -father?--for it is clear to me that in yielding deference to the -counsel of the one, I must prove disobedient to the other!” - -“Tranquillise yourself, dearest Agnes--tranquillise yourself, I implore -you!” exclaimed the lady, straining the trembling--almost affrighted -maiden to her breast. - -“Ah! dearest mother, when I hear your voice and receive your kisses, I -have no thought save for you,” murmured the young girl. “Oh! and now -your tears fall upon my cheek. Mother--dear mother--forgive me for what -I said ere now--I will obey you--and you only. But do not--do not weep, -my beloved parent!” - -“May God Almighty bless you, Agnes!” fervently exclaimed the lady, her -tears streaming in blinding torrents from her eyes. - -“Oh! do not weep--I implore you!” cried Agnes, in a tone of the most -tender affection. “Are you unhappy, dear mother? If so, tell me the -cause of your sorrow!” - -“I am both happy and unhappy, Agnes,” was the response, almost choked -with sobs. “I experience ineffable pleasure and acute pain, all at the -same moment! But your words soothe me--your voice descends into my -soul like sweet music--your caresses are as a balm to my bruised and -weltering spirit!” - -“Dear mother, let me embrace you closer still!” murmured Agnes, -clinging to her parent in that narrow chaise as if there were an -imminent danger of their immediate separation. “But wherefore are you -happy and unhappy at the same time?” - -“I am happy because I have this evening recovered you, and thus seen -accomplished the hope of long, long years,” returned the lady; “and I -am unhappy because I fear that some untoward circumstance will part us -again.” - -“Oh! what circumstance can part us, dear mother?” asked Agnes, her -bosom filled with vague alarms. “May I not dwell with you, if I -choose--and if you choose to have me with you?” - -“Yes--oh! yes, Agnes,” replied her mother, earnestly and in an -impassioned tone. “But will you not pine--when the excitement of these -new feelings shall have passed away,--will you not pine, I say, for -your secluded cottage--your beautiful garden--and--and your father?” -she added, her voice suddenly becoming low and tremulously plaintive. - -“What is that lovely cottage--what are the choicest flowers of that -garden, in comparison with thy love, my dearest--dearest mother?” -exclaimed Agnes: “and, oh! if I must decide between you, on the one -hand, and my father on the other----And yet he has been so kind--so -very kind to me--that it goes to my very heart----” - -“Agnes--Agnes--you love your father better than me!” exclaimed the -mother, in a voice of the most piercing, rending anguish. “But it is -natural--oh! it is natural--for you never knew me until now--at least -not since your infancy! Yes, it is natural, I say! Oh! fool that I was -to hope that you could love me well enough to consent to dwell beneath -my roof in future! No--no--it is impossible: I see it all, Agnes--you -would be wretched--miserable, were you to part from your father! I -will take you back to your cottage, then, my child--I will leave you -then--and we must separate upon its threshold, never--never to meet -again, perhaps, in this life!” - -“No, dearest mother--speak not thus despairingly--or you will kill -me--you will break my heart!” cried Agnes, her voice choking with sobs. -“You are unhappy--and it is my duty to remain with you----Oh! and God -forgive me for saying it, if it be a crime--but--but--it is also my -wish!” - -And with these words, the maiden again threw herself upon her mother’s -bosom and wept plenteously, while her arms clasped that parent’s neck -with almost convulsive violence--as if she feared to lose her. - -“Now, Agnes, I am happy--oh! supremely happy!” exclaimed the fond -woman. “You will remain with me--and I shall not again submit your -feelings to a painful test by proposing the alternatives which have -already rent your bosom. Listen, however, to me for a short space. -I am a lonely and desolate woman, and have experienced a recent -affliction of an almost overpowering nature. Indeed, I should have -succumbed beneath its weight, had not accident--an accident of a most -extraordinary character--last night revealed to me the place where you -dwelt in such seclusion. Then I suddenly felt that I had something -worth living for--and I came to you this evening, with the hope of -seeing you--yes--and also with the hope of inducing you to accompany -me, that we might dwell together in future. For, oh! Agnes, you cannot -divine how tender--how lasting--how invincible is the love of a mother -for her child. Years and years have passed since I saw you; and I have -pictured to myself my darling daughter growing up in beauty and in -virtue--endowed with elegant accomplishments, and trained in all that -she ought to learn or that would become her--save a knowledge of her -mother! Now, my dearest Agnes, you repay me for that immense--that -boundless love which I have ever cherished for you: now you reward me -for the anxious years--the age of sorrow, as I may term the period -which has elapsed, for me, between your infancy and the present time. -Your father is rich--is possessed of many resources for recreation and -pleasure in the world, which a woman cannot enjoy. He has many, many -friends;--and, deeply though he loves you, he will not miss you so much -as I have missed you, and should miss you still, were you now to be -separated from me. It is, then, a mother who implores her daughter to -give her a daughter’s love--to yield her a daughter’s affection--and -perform towards her a daughter’s duty. All this, my Agnes, I see that -you are prepared to accomplish--even at the sacrifice of your feelings -in respect to your sire. Moreover, that sire has been blessed with -your smiles ever since your birth--or at least has had you under his -guardianship and control: and now--oh! now, am I asking too much when -I beseech you to devote a few years of love to me,--to me who am your -mother--who am unhappy--and who, without you, should now feel so lonely -and desolate that the sooner the cold grave were to close over me, the -better!” - -“I will not leave you--I will die sooner!” murmured Agnes, her eyes -streaming and her bosom heaving with convulsive sobs. “But you will not -leave my father--nor that kind and good Mrs. Gifford--in ignorance of -what has become of me?” - -“I could not be guilty of such cruelty, my darling child,” responded -the mother. “And now,” she continued, after a rapid glance from the -window of the vehicle, which was at this moment passing by Kennington -Common,--“and now listen again to what I have to say to you. My own -house is in the northern suburb of London; and it is possible that -Mrs. Gifford may be acquainted with the place of my abode. I know not -whether she be; and I should conceive that she is _not_--nevertheless, -there _is_ the possibility, as I observed--and, in that case, she would -adopt measures to tear you from my arms. For this night, then, you must -consent to remain at the house of some ladies of my acquaintance. They -will take care of you--they will be rejoiced to have you with them, -though only for a few hours; and by to-morrow evening I shall have a -dwelling fitted up for our reception. It is my intention to give up -my villa which I now possess--and I know of a sweet cottage, with a -beautiful garden, in the neighbourhood of Bayswater, which I shall -hire at once. All these arrangements can be effected in the course of -to-morrow--for by means of money incredible things are accomplished in -London.” - -“Be it as you say, my dear mother,” observed Agnes. “But you will -remain with me this night?--you will not leave me with strangers?” she -exclaimed anxiously. - -“Certainly, my child, if you wish it, I will stay with you,” returned -her mother. “Listen, however, to me once again. The friends in whose -care I propose to place you, are two elderly ladles, who will receive -you as the daughter of one whom they sincerely love--for they are as -devoted to me as if I were a near and dear relative, and are acquainted -with much that concerns me. You will be as safe in their charge as if I -myself were with you: for, remember,--by to-morrow night I must have a -home--a good home--prepared for my Agnes,--and it will occupy me until -a late hour _this_ night to make the arrangements for the removal of -all my furniture and other property in the morning. In addition to all -this, Agnes, I should be compelled in any case to return to my house -this evening,--as there may be a communication of importance for me -there,--a communication from a generous friend--noble by nature as well -as by name--and who is interesting himself for me and for _another_----” - -“Say no more, my dearest parent,” interrupted Agnes. “I am ready to -obey you in all things and to follow your counsel: but promise to -return and take me away with you as early as you can to-morrow,” she -added imploringly. - -“Fear not, my darling Agnes,” replied the mother: “I shall be as -anxious to embrace you to-morrow as you possibly can be to see me.” - -While this conversation was in progress between the two ladles in -the hackney-coach, the sun had set--twilight had become absorbed in -the shades of night--but the vehicle was now proceeding along the -Blackfriars-road, which was brilliant with the gas-lamps stretching -away in two approximating lines, and ultimately becoming confounded -together on the arching bridge in the distance. - -At length the hackney-coach passed out of the Blackfriars-road into -Stamford-street; and Agnes, looking from the left-hand window, saw -that the three first houses on that side of the way, towards which her -eyes were turned, were in a condition so ruinous and dismantled as to -strike a chill to her susceptible heart. But the unpleasant sensation -almost instantly vanished, when the coach drew up at the door of a -house in excellent repair, and presenting, in outward appearance, a -remarkable contrast to those dilapidated buildings. - -Here Agnes and her mother alighted; and the young maiden no longer -thought of the sinister-looking ruins adjoining, when she found herself -in a comfortable parlour, where both herself and parent received a -cordial welcome from two elderly ladies whose benevolent countenances, -agreeable manners, and kind speech were calculated to inspire -confidence at once. - -The name of these maiden sisters was Theobald; and they were indeed -possessed of excellent dispositions and endowed with the most amiable -qualities. The moment that Agnes’ mother entered the room, they rose to -embrace her with the warmth of an unfeigned friendship; and even before -the young maiden was introduced to them, they exclaimed, as if suddenly -struck by the same sentiment, “Ah! this is the dear girl whom you have -so long pined to recover? We need not wait to be told that she is your -daughter: the likeness between you proclaims the fact!” - -And then they embraced Agnes in her turn. - -The young lady’s mother drew the elder Miss Theobald aside, and -said, “I propose to leave my beloved child with you for this night. -Circumstances compel me to return home without delay. I have decided -upon taking your beautiful little villa at Bayswater, and shall -remove all my furniture thither the first thing in the morning. It is -fortunate that the sweet dwelling should have been thus in want of a -tenant at this moment.” - -“I am delighted for your sake, my dear friend,” responded Miss -Theobald, “that the villa is unoccupied. We will send one of our -servants at day-break to make all the necessary preparations for your -reception. Oh! how sincerely--how deeply do I congratulate you upon -having recovered your long-lost daughter!” added the kind-hearted -woman, in a tone of profound feeling. - -“It is indeed a source of indescribable solace to my wounded spirit, -as you, my dear friend, may well conceive--for you are acquainted with -the principal events of my chequered existence. But I must now depart: -it is growing late--and ere I seek my couch this night, I shall have -arranged everything for my removal to Bayswater to-morrow.” - -With these words the lady turned towards Agnes, saying, “My dearest -child, I leave you in the care of these excellent friends, whom it is -only necessary to know in order to love.” - -“I feel that I do already love them, my dear mother,” responded the -young maiden, as she threw herself into her parent’s arms. - -“Farewell--till to-morrow, my sweet Agnes: soon after mid-day you may -expect me--and the Miss Theobalds can tell you that the new home to -which you are then to accompany me, will leave you nothing to regret in -reference to your own little secluded cottage and beautiful garden in -Surrey.” - -“Wherever I may dwell with you, dear mother--there shall I enjoy -contentment,” answered Agnes, tenderly embracing her whom in two short -hours she had thus learnt to love with an affection that seemed to have -existed for years. - -“Adieu, my darling child,” murmured the fond mother; and she then took -her departure. - -Agnes listened until the sounds of the retreating wheels were no longer -audible--or rather, until they were absorbed in the din of the numerous -vehicles passing in the immediate neighbourhood of the house: and then -a sudden chill seized upon her heart--a damp fell upon her spirits--her -feelings, powerfully excited by the incidents of the day, experienced -a rapid revulsion--and, unable to control her emotions, she burst into -tears. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXIV. - -A NIGHT OF TERRORS. - - -The two ladies hastened to console--or, speaking with greater accuracy, -endeavoured to console the weeping girl. But, although she knew -how friendly disposed they were towards her--although she felt the -full extent of their kindness, and even reproached herself with her -inability to yield to its soothing influence,--yet it seemed as if the -departure of her mother had left her more alone in the world than ever -she was before. - -“Dry those tears, my sweet Agnes,” said the elder Miss Theobald, -pressing the maiden’s delicate white hand with cordiality and -tenderness. - -“Oh! do not give way to a sorrow for which you have no real cause,” -urged the younger of the two ladies. “A few hours will soon pass, my -dear child, and your fond parent will return.” - -But Agnes, though acknowledging by her gestures the kindness of the -sisters, could not subdue her grief; and her sobbing became more -convulsive. - -For a tide of conflicting and painful reflections rushed in upon her -soul. She remembered all her father’s goodness towards her--the strong -injunctions he had given her not to hold intercourse with any one who -was not the bearer of a letter from him--and the grief that he would -experience when he heard of her departure. She thought, likewise, of -the terror and dismay which must even already reign at the cottage on -account of her mysterious absence: she beheld, in imagination, the -excellent-hearted Mrs. Gifford and the good-natured Jane inconsolable -at her loss;--and, apart from all these ideas, she now felt certain -misgivings arise in her bosom relative to the step she had taken. -Vainly did she endeavour to persuade herself that, acting by the -counsel and in obedience to the prayers of her mother, she could not -have done wrong: a secret voice appeared to reproach her--an unknown -tongue seemed to whisper ominous things in her ears. Terror gained -upon her; and, under its influence, her grief became less violent. But -her thoughts grew confused--there was a hurry in her brain: she felt -as if she had just awakened from a wild and painful dream, and was -still unable to collect her scattered ideas;--and still amidst that -confusion, flashed, with vivid brightness to her memory, the warning -which her sire had so emphatically given to her respecting the snares -that were set by the wicked to entrap the artless and the innocent. At -length, overcome by the terror which thus rapidly acquired a complete -empire over her soul, and forgetting all that was re-assuring and -consolatory in her present petition, Agnes Vernon fell upon her knees -before the two amazed ladies, exclaiming, as she extended her clasped -hands wildly towards them, “Take me home again to my cottage--take me -home again, I implore you!” - -“My dearest child,” said the elder Miss Theobald, accompanying -her soothing words with the tenderest caresses; “what do you -fear?--wherefore do you wish to leave us? Are we not your mother’s -friends?--and can you not persuade yourself to look upon us in the same -light?” - -“Oh! yes, madam--I know--I feel that you are my friend--that you wish -me well!” cried Agnes, her apprehensions dissipating, but only to allow -scope for her anguish to burst forth again. - -“Why, then, do you thus give way to your grief?” asked Miss Theobald, -raising the young maiden gently, and as gently leading her to a seat. - -“I cannot explain my sensations,” sobbed the poor girl: “and yet I feel -very--very unhappy.” - -“You have doubtless been much excited this evening, my love,” was -the reply: “but a good night’s rest will tranquillise you. And -remember--you are beneath a friendly roof, and where harm cannot reach -you.” - -“But I tremble lest I have done wrong, madam,” exclaimed Agnes. “How is -it that my father ordains one thing, and my mother counsels another? -Oh! I am bewildered with misgivings--I know not what to think, nor how -to act?” - -“Are you not pleased at having at length embraced a mother?” said the -younger Miss Theobald, in a tone of gentle reproach. - -“Yes--oh! yes!” ejaculated Agnes, fervently: then, in a mournful voice, -she observed, “But I have fled--surreptitiously fled from the home -provided for me by a fond and trusting father!” - -The two ladies fully comprehended the nature of the conflicting -thoughts that were agitating in the breast of Agnes Vernon; and they -exchanged rapid glances of mingled sorrow and apprehension. They saw -that on one side was a suddenly awakened and ardent love for a mother; -and that on the other was a sense of the deference and obedience, as -well as of the gratitude, due to an affectionate father. They were, -therefore, filled with regret that family circumstances should have -placed that pure, artless, and innocent girl in a position which -compelled her to balance between the two; and, although they would -have moved heaven and earth to induce her to decide in favour of the -maternal parent, they recognised the difficulty of the task, and -entertained the deepest alarm for its results. - -“To-morrow evening, long before this hour, my dear Agnes,” said the -elder of the ladies, “you will be comfortably settled in your new home. -The villa which your mother intends to inhabit at Bayswater, belongs -to my sister and myself. It is a neat little dwelling--neither too -much secluded, nor too near to the neighbouring houses; and a large, -well-cultivated, and delightful garden is attached to it. Then, my -dear child, reflect--remember, that you will possess a constant, a -devoted, and a loving companion in your mother: you will no longer -pass many, many hours--indeed, the greater portion of your time--in -solitude and loneliness, nor be thrown upon the incompatible society of -servants, who, however good in heart and well-intentioned, are not such -associates as you would select of your own free will.” - -“Ah! madam--your words console me,” said Agnes, endeavouring to stifle -her sobs. “But how happens it that you should be acquainted with my -late mode of life?” - -“I did but guess what that mode of life must have been,” returned Miss -Theobald; “and I see that I was not far wrong. I knew that your father -did not--could not dwell with you entirely--that he could only be a -visitor at your place of abode, wherever it might be--and, therefore, I -naturally conjectured that you were thrown almost completely upon your -own resources.” - -“And can you tell me, madam,” asked Miss Vernon, ingenuously, as the -thought suddenly struck her,--“can you tell me how it is that my father -should wish me to dwell under his guardianship only, and my mother -wishes me to rely solely upon her? Or, indeed,” she added, after a few -moments’ pause, “I should rather inquire the reason which prevents my -parents from living together beneath the same roof, and having me with -them? for, according to all the books I have ever read----” - -“Ah! my dear Agnes,” interrupted the elder sister, “you would not seek -to penetrate into those mysteries which so unhappily belong to the -destinies of your parents?” - -“Oh! no--no--if it be improper for a child to ask an explanation of -such secrets!” exclaimed Miss Vernon, the natural purity of her soul -instantly absorbing the sentiment of curiosity that had prompted her -queries. “And now let me implore your pardon for having testified so -much excitement----” - -“It was to be expected, dear child,” said Miss Theobald; “and you -have no pardon to solicit. We are delighted to perceive that you have -at length recovered some degree of calmness. Rest assured that you -will be happy in the society of your mother, whom we have known for -years--yes--many, many years, and whom we love as much as if she were -a near relative. You will be surprised to learn, Agnes, that when you -were a babe, we often fondled you in our arms. Yes: you may regard me -with surprise--but it is nevertheless the fact, that my sister and -myself have frequently--very frequently nursed and dandled you for -hours together.” - -“Oh! I was wrong to exhibit so much mistrust and want of confidence -in you just now!” exclaimed Agnes, her affectionate soul being deeply -touched by assurances so well calculated to move her, and which were -indeed strictly consonant with truth. - -“Think not of what has gone by, my dear child,” said the younger -sister. “We make all possible allowances for the excited state of your -mind; and we sincerely hope, as we believe, that happiness awaits you. -But it is growing late; and you doubtless stand in need of refreshment -ere you retire to rest.” - -Then, without waiting for an answer, she rang the bell; and the -servant was ordered to bring in the supper-tray. Agnes was in no -humour to partake of the meal: indeed, she was in that state of mind -when the individual rather loathes the idea of eating, through a total -suspension of the appetite. But so delicate were the attentions of the -kind-hearted sisters, and so persevering were they in their endeavours -to render their guest as much “at home” as possible, that Agnes sate -down with them to table; and, if she scarcely ate anything, yet her -spirits revived somewhat from the sociable nature of the evening -repast. - -It was a little after eleven when the Misses Theobald conducted the -young lady to the bedchamber which had been prepared for her reception; -and, having embraced her affectionately, the good sisters left her, as -they hoped, to the enjoyment of that repose of which they knew she must -stand much in need. - -The moment she found herself alone, the maiden felt unpleasant thoughts -returning to her mind; and, in order to escape from them, if possible, -she began to lay aside her apparel with unwonted haste. Everything -necessary for her toilette had been provided; and the chamber, which -was at the back of the house and on the second floor, was elegantly -furnished--having an air of comfort that would have been duly -appreciated by one in a more settled state of mind than was the amiable -girl at the time. In a few minutes she retired to rest; and, contrary -to her expectation, sleep soon fell upon her eye-lids--for she was worn -out and exhausted by the exciting incidents of the day. - -Her dreams were not, however, of a tranquillising description. - -In the first place, she fancied that she was roving in her garden, and -that she beheld Lord William Trevelyan approaching down the lane. In -a few moments he stood by her side; though how he passed the verdant -boundary was not quite clear to her. She did not retreat,--yet she -felt that she ought to retire: but her feet were rivetted to the -ground;--and when he took her hand, the same unknown and invisible -influence which nailed her to the spot, forbade her to withdraw that -hand which trembled in his own. Then she imagined that the young -nobleman began to address her in a style similar to the contents of -his letter: she cast down her eyes--she felt herself blushing--and, -though she knew that she ought to retreat, she nevertheless listened -with emotions of pleasure never experienced before. He pressed her to -be allowed to visit her again; and she was raising her eyes bashfully -towards his countenance, to read his sincerity in his looks, ere she -murmured the affirmative reply that already trembled upon her tongue, -when she was suddenly shocked to perceive a marvellous and signal -change taking place in him. His face grew wrinkled--the handsome -features became distorted and frightful--his clothes took another -appearance--and, as she gazed upon him in speechless wonder and alarm, -she saw standing in his place a hideous old woman, whom she at length -recognised as Mrs. Mortimer. Agnes strove to cry out--but could not: -a spell was upon her lips;--and the harridan’s eyes glared upon her -with savage malignity. The maiden felt herself sinking in terror to the -ground--when the whole scene experienced a sudden variation; and she -was now in the parlour of the cottage, with her father seated by her -side. - -Neither was this second dream of a tranquillising description. - -Agnes fancied that her sire was angry with her--that he uttered -reproaches for a disobedience of which she had been guilty. At first -she could not comprehend the nature of the offence that had entailed -upon her this vituperation, and rendered her father’s manner so -unusually severe towards her--but at last it flashed to her mind that -she had been incautious in receiving at the cottage evil-intentioned -visitors;--and then she suddenly found her father engaged in a violent -dispute with Mrs. Mortimer, whose countenance seemed more than ever -hideous and revolting. How this dispute originated, or how Mrs. -Mortimer had got into the room, Agnes knew not: there she however -was--and the quarrel waxed warmer and warmer. At length the old woman -took her departure: but ere the door closed behind her, she turned -on Agnes a look of such fiend-like malignity, that a shriek would -have expressed the young maiden’s affright, had not her lips been -mysteriously sealed. When the harridan had disappeared, Mr. Vernon -renewed his reproaches; and Agnes fancied that, on falling on her knees -in the presence of her sire to demand pardon, he spurned her from -him--upbraided her with her disobedience and ingratitude--and warned -her, in a tone of solemnly prophetic meaning, that her readiness to -repose confidence in strangers would bring down some terrible calamity -on her head. She was about to promise never more to prove guilty of -the disobedience which had elicited all these reproaches and produced -all that unwonted harshness on her father’s part, when a third person -appeared on the scene;--and this third person was her mother! - -But this new dream which now visited the sleeping maiden, was not of a -tranquillising description. - -She fancied that an earnest appeal was now made to her on either side, -placing her in the difficult and most distressing condition of a child -who had to decide as to which of her parents she would cling to, and -which abandon. Here was her father, reminding her of all he had done -for her: there was her mother, proclaiming herself to be unhappy and -to need the society and solace of her daughter. On her right hand -stood the sire whom she had always known: on her left was the maternal -parent whom she had never known before. The countenance of the former -expressed misgivings amounting almost to despair: that of the latter -was bathed in tears, and indicative of all the agonies of a cruel -suspense. Agnes felt that her heart was rent by this scene; and yet -it appeared to her that she was bound to decide, and that promptly, -in one way or the other. She looked towards her father; and he held -out his arms to receive her--his countenance assuming an expression so -profoundly wretched that it seemed to say, “If I lose you, I lose all I -love or care for on earth.” She turned towards her mother, in order to -breathe a last farewell, for that she must accompany her father,--when -she beheld her maternal parent on her knees, and extending her clasped -hands imploringly, while the pale but beauteous face indicated that -life or death was in the decision which was about to be pronounced. -Agnes could not resist this earnest--silently eloquent appeal on the -part of a mother who had proclaimed herself to be unhappy; and the -maiden fancied that she threw herself into that mother’s arms. A cry -of misery burst from her father’s lips; and Agnes awoke with a wild -start,--awoke, to feel her entire frame quaking convulsively, and her -heart palpitating with alarming violence. - -For a few moments--nay, for nearly a minute, she lay stretched upon -her back, endeavouring to compel her thoughts to settle themselves in -their proper places, so that she might attain the assurance whether she -had just beheld realities, or had only been the victim of distressing -dreams;--and when she was enabled to arrive at the latter conclusion, -she started up in her bed, exclaiming, “Nevertheless, this is more than -I can endure!” - -Then came the consciousness of where she was, and why she was -there,--how she had fled from the home that her father had provided -for her, and in spite of all his solemn injunctions and prudential -warnings,--how her mother had left her in a strange place, and with -persons who were strangers to her,--and how Mrs. Gifford would be -certain to send to Paris without delay and communicate the afflicting -tidings to Mr. Vernon. - -The maiden’s brain reeled, as these thoughts flashed through it;--and -at this moment, when her senses appeared to be leaving her, the clock -of Christ Church, in the Blackfriars-road, proclaimed the hour of _one_! - -The sound came booming--rolling--vibrating through the air, like a -solemn warning: at least, so it seemed to the disordered fancy of Agnes -Vernon;--and, with feelings worked up to an intolerable pitch, she -leapt from her couch. - -To obtain a light was an easy matter--for the necessary materials were -at hand; and when the flame burst from the tip of the lucifer match, -Agnes cast a hurried and affrighted glance around, as if she dreaded -to meet some hideous countenance or horrible form in the chamber. Not -that she was naturally timid: no--far from it;--her very innocence and -purity rendered her courageous on ordinary occasions. But she was now -under the influence of emotions powerfully wrung--of feelings strained -to an unusual tension;--and she had no control over her imagination, -which was disordered and excited. - -One idea dominated all the rest. This was to escape from the house--to -escape, at any hazard and at all risks. Not for worlds, she thought, -could she return to that bed where such distressing visions had rent -her soul;--and she could not pass the rest of the night alone, and in -a strange place. No: she must return to the cottage--retrace her way -to the home which her father had provided for her--and endeavour to -reach that friendly threshold in time to prevent Mrs. Gifford from -transmitting to her sire the news of her disobedience. - -But her mother! Oh! she should see that parent again--she would explain -everything--and perhaps arrangements might be made to suit the views -and accomplish the happiness of all! In the mean time, however, she -must escape--she must return home,--she could not endure the idea -of remaining another hour--no--nor even a minute longer than was -necessary--in that stranger-dwelling! - -With lightning speed did all these thoughts,--or rather glimpses of -thoughts--for they were too brief, too fleetingly vivid, to deserve -the name of reflections--pass through the maiden’s mind, as she threw -on her apparel with a congenial haste; and in three minutes she was -dressed. Her bonnet was in the parlour below: but that she could take -on her way out of the house--or she cared not if she did not find it at -all. She would escape in any case, and at all events; and if she could -not find a vehicle to convey her home--she would walk, although she -might have to ask her way at every step. For Agnes had worked herself -up to a pitch of desperation: a fearful panic was upon her;--she knew -not, neither did she pause to ask in her own soul, why she longed -so ardently to fly from that house:--an irresistible and almost -incomprehensible influence urged her on--and the hurry of her actions -was in accordance with the hurry of her brain. - -Her hair was flowing over her shoulders: she just waited a moment--a -single moment, to fasten it up in a large knot behind; and then, taking -the light in her hand, she stole noiselessly down the stairs. - -A profound silence--a silence which her footsteps disturbed -not--reigned throughout the house. - -All, save the affrighted--half-maddened girl, slept. - -She gained the hall--she endeavoured to enter the parlour to procure -her bonnet: but the door was closed--and she now remembered that the -elder Miss Theobald had taken the key with her when they had all -quitted that room for the night. - -But we have already said that Agnes cared not for the bonnet;--and -without bestowing a second thought on the matter, she approached the -front-door. Alas! there was a more serious disappointment still--the -key of that door had likewise been taken up stairs. - -An expression of bitter vexation passed over the pale countenance of -the maiden--an expression more bitter than that beauteous countenance -had ever before worn: but, in another instant, it was succeeded by -something like a gleam of hope and joy,--for Agnes bethought her that -there was a yard at the back of the house--she had seen it, in the -moonlight, from her bed-room window--and there might be a means of -egress in that direction. - -Cautiously descending the stairs leading into the kitchens, which were -below the level of the street, she hastened to the back-door, which, to -her joy, proved only to be bolted. - -Oh! now she would escape--she would escape, even if she were forced to -climb a wall and enter the enclosure belonging to a neighbouring house: -for, with the excitement occasioned by her present proceedings, the -panic influence which urged her on acquired fresh power every moment. - -Extinguishing the light, she left the candlestick in the house, and -then emerged into the yard. - -The fresh air, as it fanned her face, seemed to breathe whispering -promises of freedom, and gave her renewed courage. - -The moon was shining gloriously; and as she cast a glance of rapid -survey around, she beheld the backs of the dilapidated houses the -fronts of which had struck her with such sinister effect when she first -entered Stamford Street, in the hackney-coach, in the evening. - -There was no mode of egress from the yard save by scaling the boundary -walls, which were low on either side. - -Not an instant did Agnes hesitate: the fittings of a water-butt served -as a ladder for her delicate feet;--and, behold! the sylph-like form -of the maiden passes nimbly and lightly over the wall, into the yard -belonging to the ruined house next door: for it strikes her that egress -by means of an uninhabited building must be certain beyond all risk or -doubt. - -The moon-light streams, with silvery rays, upon the sombre walls--the -dark window-frames, with the blackened fragments of glass remaining -in them--the back-door hanging crazily and loosely on its hinges--and -the rust-eaten bars of the back-kitchen window. The yard is overgrown -with rank grass, reaching above the ankles; and the ground is ragged -and uneven--the chances of tripping being moreover multiplied by the -brick-bats and the broken bottles scattered about. - -[Illustration] - -The ruined aspect of the house and the long-neglected condition of the -yard, or small garden as it once was, behind the building, constituted -a scene of desolation, and conveyed an impression of utter loneliness -to the mind of the young lady that made her shrink back for a moment -as she placed her hand on the rusty latch of the crazy door leading -into the lower premises. And seemed she not the sprite of some maiden -who had been foully dealt with in that gloomy, tomb-like place, and -whose unquiet ghost came to haunt the scene where her blood had been -ruthlessly spilt and her mortal remains lay concealed in unconsecrated -ground? Yes--such she indeed appeared, with her ashy pale face--her -white dress, rendered whiter still by the moonbeams that played upon -it--and her long dark hair which, having become loosened in the act -of scaling the wall, now flowed all wildly and dishevelled over her -shoulders! - -We said that she hesitated for a moment to push her way into the dark -and ruined building, wrapped as it was in sepulchral silence: but the -dominant influence which had hitherto impelled her, asserted its empire -once again; and, thrusting open the door, which was by no means a -difficult matter--she entered the dilapidated house. - -A chill struck to her heart and a vague terror seized upon her, as -she now plunged, as it were, out of the pure moonlight into the utter -darkness of those premises: but, subduing her fears, she advanced a few -paces, with her arms extended so as to grope for the stairs. - -Her right hand encountered the bannisters, which were loose and crazy, -and raised a rattling noise as she grasped them: no longer alarmed, -however, but feeling that the means of escape were gained, she was -about to ascend the steps, when a door suddenly opened immediately -in front of her--a light appeared--and the rays of the candle -thus abruptly thrust forth revealed a countenance so hideous--so -monster-like, that for a few moments Agnes stood transfixed in -speechless horror--stupified--paralysed--motionless as a marble statue. - -And glaring with horror also, were the eyeballs whose rivetted looks -met her own: then a loud, hoarse, and affrighted voice exclaimed, “The -ghost! the ghost!”--and the light, dropping suddenly on the ground, was -immediately extinguished. - -A piercing shriek burst from the lips of Agnes; and she fell senseless -at the foot of the stairs. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXV. - -THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN STAMFORD STREET. - - -We must now carry our narrative backward for a few hours, in order to -explain the incident which has just been described. - -At the corner of Stamford Street and the Blackfriars Road, there are -three houses in a most dismantled and dilapidated condition. They seem -to have been ravaged by fire; but time and neglect have in reality -produced that deplorable appearance. The walls are blackened with -accumulated dirt; and the state of the windows bears unequivocal -evidence to the fact that every pane has been broken, individually and -separately, by stones flung from the streets by vagabond boys or other -mischievous persons. The fragments of glass that remain, seem as if -the material never could have been transparent, but had even in its -manufacture been stained with an inky dye; and the shutters wherewith -the casements are closed inside, are equally blackened, as if by a -smoke as dense as that which proceeds from the funnel of a steam-packet -or the chimney of a factory. - -For the last twenty years have these three houses been thus left -to fall into ruin: for the fifth part of a century has the work of -dilapidation and decay been going on! That they were once habited is -evident from the fact that the blinds, pulled up round their rollers, -still remain--but so begrimed with black dust and dirt that it is -scarcely possible to believe they were ever white. The cords used -to pull them down, with the tassels at the end, are likewise still -there, and totally discoloured also. Very mournful is the aspect -of those ruined tenements, with these indications that they once -were comfortable dwellings,--that cheerful fires once burnt in the -grates--that lights streamed from the casements in years gone by--and -that the walls echoed to the gay pealing laughter of merry children! - -Desolate--desolate, indeed, are the three houses,--a disfigurement -to the entire vicinity, and having an appearance well calculated to -throw a damp upon the spirits even of the most strong-minded of the -neighbours. - -There is something picturesque in the aspect which ruins in the open -country--perhaps on the summit of a hill--assume from gradual decay; -because there the ivy grows upon the walls, and the naked hideousness -of dilapidation is concealed by the invasion of a wilderness of shrubs -and sweets. But when the golden rays of a summer sun pour upon the -blackened walls and shattered casements of houses in the midst of a -populous city,--houses which have dwelling-places adjoining them and -all around,--the effect is sombre, sad, and sinister in the extreme. - -Such is the impression produced by those three houses in -Stamford-street. Not that the street itself is otherwise cheerful in -aspect: on the contrary, the entire thoroughfare stretching between the -Blackfriars and Waterloo Roads, is gloomy and inhospitable in aspect. -The exterior of the houses has a dinginess of wall and a darkness -of window that are unrelieved by the aristocratic grandeur and the -richness of curtains inside, which characterise the rows of smoke-dyed -dwellings in more fashionable quarters. - -The inhabitants of Stamford Street are amazingly prone to the letting -of lodgings, when they can find any persons willing to take them. But -that such pliant and easily-persuaded tenants are rare in that quarter, -is proved to demonstration by the numbers of cards and bills in the -windows announcing furnished apartments to let. - -It is a curious study, and one that affords matter for speculation, -to examine the cards and bills thus displayed. Some are written in a -neat feminine hand, so small that the passer-by must protrude his head -far over the railings to enable his vision to decipher the delicate -announcements: others are penned in a bold, coarse hand--and, in them, -the chances are ten to one that the word _let_ is spelt with a double -t;--while others, again, are printed in the types which the experienced -eye has no difficulty in tracing to Peel’s famed establishment in the -New Cut. - -More than half of Stamford Street constantly appears to let; and, -from all accounts, landlords experience no trifling difficulty in -collecting the rents from the occupants of their houses. If you pass -along Stamford Street just before quarter-day, and at a very early -hour in the morning, or at a late hour in the night, you will be sure -to perceive several vans loading with furniture; for the habit of -“moon-shining it,” or flitting surreptitiously, is unfortunately of -frequent occurrence in that district. - -But these are not the only indications that the affairs of the -inhabitants and lodgers in Stamford Street are far from being in -the most blooming condition: the fact may also be gathered from the -careworn countenance of the tax-gatherer as he leaves a fresh notice -at every door, and from the common occurrence of the water being cut -off. Nor less does the Poor Rates’ collector feel his task to be a most -unpleasant one; while the tradesmen in the Blackfriars Road wonder, as -they look over their ledgers, what the deuce Stamford Street is coming -to. Visitors are frequently answered from the area--an unmistakeable -precaution against the intrusion of sheriff’s officers; and even when -the butcher delivers in his meat or the baker his bread at the front -door, the chain is in many instances kept up. - -Such is the prevalent state of affairs in the long thoroughfare -which we have thus briefly described: but it is with the dilapidated -houses--or rather with one of them--that we have now to occupy -ourselves. - -As soon as it was dusk, two men emerged from the miserable rookery -constituted by the district of Broad Wall; and, entering Stamford -Street, they proceeded stealthily along until they reached the ruined -house which was next to the dwelling of the Misses Theobald. One of -the men--a tall, stout, ruffian-like fellow, whom we shall presently -describe more particularly--took a key from his pocket and opened the -door of the dilapidated tenement, into which he hastily entered, his -companion closely following him. We should however observe that this -ingress was effected at a moment when no other persons were near; and -that the door was opened and shut in a noiseless manner, so that no -sound might reach the ears of the occupants of the adjacent dwelling. - -“Now give us your hand, old feller,” said the ruffian-like individual, -when they were safe inside the passage: “because the stairs is summut -broke away, and the bannisters isn’t to be trusted. Lord! how you -tremble! Why--what the hell are you afeard on?” - -“Nothing--nothing, my good friend,” was the answer, delivered in a -nervous tone: “only--it’s--it’s--so--very--very--dark.” - -“Dark!” cried the ruffian, with a hoarse laugh: “why, it wery often -_is_ dark in a house at night-time, and where there’s no candle alight. -But p’raps you’re afeard of ghosteses,” he continued, as he dragged -rather than led the nervous old man down the crazy, rotting stairs -towards the lower region of the place: “and if so, you’re in the right -quarters to see a speret--for they do say the young gal which was -murdered here, walks in her shroud;--but, for my part, I never see -her--and I han’t got no fear of that sort.” - -By the time these words were uttered, in a tone of coarse jocularity, -the ruffian had conducted his companion to the bottom of the stairs; -and, halting at that point, he struck a lucifer-match against the wall, -and lighted a piece of candle which he took from his pocket. - -He then led the way into the front kitchen of the house, bidding the -old man close the door behind him. - -The place was black all over with accumulated dust and dirt: the -ceiling appeared as if it had been originally painted a sable hue; and -the floor, broken in several parts, conveyed the same impression. The -shelves above the dresser were in a most dilapidated condition; and the -dense cob-webs clung to them, as well as to the corners of the ceiling, -like masses of rotten rags. The shutters were closed; and over their -entire surface were pasted sheets of thick brown paper--evidently to -prevent the light of candles from peeping through their chinks and -being noticed in the street. There was an old ricketty table in the -middle of the kitchen: there were likewise two chairs, which, being -made of a tough wood, had withstood the ravages of time; and an empty -beer-barrel was placed upright near the table, as if it occasionally -served as a third seat. - -The ruffian stuck the candle in the neck of a bottle; and, opening -one of the dresser-drawers, he drew forth a bottle and a couple of -small tumblers:--then, placing himself on the barrel, he proceeded -in a leisurely manner to light his pipe, while the old man--his -companion--sank, nervous and trembling, into one of the Windsor-chairs. - -The reader has no doubt already guessed that these two individuals were -Vitriol Bob and Torrens;--and, if so, the surmise is correct. - -The latter person needs no description; but the former character must -be more elaborately dealt with on the present occasion. He was indeed, -as Jack Rily had represented him, one of the greatest miscreants that -ever disgraced humanity,--not only in reality, but also in personal -appearance. Of tall stature, athletic frame, and muscular build, he -possessed vast physical strength. He was about thirty-six years of -age: his countenance was naturally ugly even to repulsiveness--but -huge black whiskers meeting under his chin, rendered it positively -ferocious;--and the small, dark, reptile-like eyes glared from beneath -thick, overhanging brows. His lips were remarkably coarse and of a -livid hue; and his nose, broken in the middle, had a deep indentation, -giving an appearance of death’s-head flatness to the broad countenance. -His apparel consisted of a seedy suit of black--a hat with very wide -brims bent even to slouching--and a pair of heavy Wellington boots; and -in his hand he carried a thick stick with a huge nob at one end and a -massive ferrule at the other. This was his “life-preserver;” but he -seldom had occasion to use it--for his proceedings were usually of the -savage and diabolical nature described by the Doctor, and whence he -derived the appellation of _Vitriol Bob_. - -This terrible individual was well known to the police: but those -functionaries trembled at the idea of molesting him. They would have -experienced no such dread had his defensive weapons been confined to -life-preservers or pistols: but there was something so horrible in the -thought of having a bottle of burning, blinding fluid broken over the -countenance, that the officers shuddered at the bare idea of tackling -Vitriol Bob. Thus, whenever information was given of some nefarious -deed which he had attempted or perpetrated, the police took very good -care to search for him where they knew he was not to be found; and if -they even met him in one of the bye-streets or obscure alleys on the -Surrey side of the metropolis--the quarter which he chiefly honoured -with his presence--they were suddenly seized with an inclination to -look stedfastly into a picture-shop, or gaze up abstractedly at the -sky, until he had passed. - -Vitriol Bob knew that he was an object of terror to the functionaries -of justice in general: but he was also well aware that there were -exceptions to the rule, and that amongst so large a body as the -police-force, some few individuals would pounce upon him at all risks. -In fact, the impunity he enjoyed was not so completely assured as to -render precaution unnecessary; and there was moreover such a thing as -being taken by surprise. For these reasons he accordingly made use of -one of the “haunted houses,”--for so they were denominated,--as a place -of concealment whenever he had committed a deed calculated to lead to -the institution of unpleasant enquiries. - -Such was the individual whom we now find in company with Torrens; and -the circumstance that threw them together in the first instance, will -presently transpire through the medium of the conversation that took -place as soon as they were seated in the kitchen of the haunted house. - -“Well, here we are safe at last, old feller,” cried Vitriol Bob, -puffing deliberately at his pipe, as if he savoured deliciously the -soothing influences of the tobacco. “By goles! it is one of the best -larks I ever was engaged in. Such a lot of tin, and so easily got!” - -“Two thousand seven hundred a piece--eh?” said Torrens, eyeing his -companion with nervous suspense, as if he were eager to assure himself -that a fair and equitable division of the booty would take place. - -“Hah!” observed the ruffian, in a complacent manner, as he filled -the two tumblers with brandy from the black bottle: “drink!”--and he -emptied one of the glasses at a draught, just as if it were a mere -thimble-full of the fiery liquid. “It was a good job, old feller,” he -continued, after a short pause, “that you fell in with such a prime -chap as I am--or rayther, it was fortnit that I lodged in the same -house, and as I came in heard you moaning and groaning away in your -cellar. It was also lucky that you let me worm out of you all that had -happened--although you was precious chary of making a confidant of me. -You remember that I couldn’t believe you at fust--I looked on you as a -perfect madman. Thinks I to myself, ‘_There’s a precious lu-nattic just -’scaped out of Bedlam_:’ for how was I to fancy that you’d raly been -robbed of such an amount, living in a cellar as you was!” - -“But you believed me at last--you saw that it was all true and -correct,” exclaimed Torrens, perceiving that it suited the man’s humour -to talk on the subject. - -“Well, I did,” returned Vitriol Bob: “and now,” he added, tapping his -breeches pockets significantly, “I have got plenty of proof that you -didn’t tell no lies. But, Lord bless ye! you could have done nothink -without me: you would have sat down quietly under your loss. But I -told you that I’d find the old voman out, if so be she was in London -at all; and so I did. The description you gave me of her was not to -be mistaken--’specially by a genelman of eggs-sperience like myself. -I went about all over London, looking for her; and then, behold ye! -arter all she’s living within a stone’s throw of us, as one may say. -By goles! I never shall forget how my heart jumped in my buzzim when I -clapped eyes on her yesterday, as she came out of the coffee-house: but -you don’t know how I found out that she actiwaliy lived there?” - -“No--I do not,” said Torrens, observing that his companion bent upon -him a look of mysterious importance, as much as to invite a query -that should furnish him with the opportunity of giving an explanation -relative to the point alluded to. “How did it happen, then?” - -“Why, when I see the old voman come out of the coffee-house, I -went straight away to my blewen--that’s Pig-faced Polly, as she’s -called--and I tells her to go to the place, take tea and toast, and -wait till she found out whether the old voman lived there, or not. -But I orders Polly not to make inquiries, for fear of eggs-citing -suspicion. Well, my gal did as I told her--and waited, and waited a -good long time; and when she’d had three teas and four or five buttered -toastesses, she see the old voman come in, and she hears the landlady -come out and say, ‘_Here’s your key, Mrs. Mortimer_.’ Then up goes Mrs. -Mortimer--for such her name seems to be--to her room; and Pig-faced -Poll returns to me with the hintelligence. I knowed that my game was -now safe enough; and it was me which dewised the plan of our going as -officers with a search-warrant, when we’d watched the old voman leave -the coffee-house this morning.” - -“Yes--yes: I know that you did it all,” said Torrens, terribly alarmed -lest he who experienced the lion’s share of the trouble, should now -claim the lion’s share of the booty. “But how long shall we be obliged -to remain here? I am in a hurry to get away--with my share--my fair -share of my own money----” - -“Your own money, indeed!” ejaculated Vitriol Bob, with a chuckling -laugh. “Was it your’n when Mother Mortimer had it safe in her own box? -And I should just like to know how you fust come by it? Not honestly, -I’ll swear, old feller. Such a seedy-looking cove, living in such a way -as you was, couldn’t have got near upon six thousand pound by wot’s -called legitimate means. But that’s neether here nor there: I don’t -care two figs how you got the tin--and if I ask no questions, I shan’t -have no lies told me. Von thing is wery certain--that I’ve got it now.” - -“But--but--you surely--my dear friend--you--” stammered Torrens, -absolutely aghast at the idea, of still remaining a beggar. - -“Come, let’s have no more of this drivelling nonsense,” interrupted -Vitriol Bob, in a tone of unmitigated contempt: then, as he refilled -and relighted his pipe, be observed, “Why, you have been in a fidget -and a stew all day, ever since we secured the swag at the coffee-house. -Don’t you see, my dear feller, that people in our sitiwations must act -with somethink like common prudence? The old voman may rouse hell’s -delight about her loss; and that was why I thought we’d better keep -ourselves scarce for a time. So I made you stay close with me at the -flash lodging-ken in the Mint all the arternoon till it was dusk; and -then I brought you here. And here,” added Vitriol Bob, “we are safe -enow: ’cos only Pig-faced Poll, Jack Rily, and one or two others of my -pals knows anythink about this place being my haunt when I’m afeard of -getting into trouble;--and there’s no danger of them splitting on us. -So far from that, the Pig-faced will be sure to come here presently, -when she finds I don’t wisit her own quarters this evening; and she’ll -bring a basket of prog along with her--so that we shall have a jolly -good supper in due time. Drink, old feller!” - -Thus speaking, the ruffian refilled his own tumbler, and pushed the -brandy bottle across the dirty table to Torrens, who did not, however, -touch it--for his glass was only half emptied; and he experienced such -lively sensations of alarm, that he felt as if his brain were reeling -and his intellects were leaving him. - -There he was--a feeble, helpless, weak old man, entirely in the power -of an individual whom he knew to be of the most desperate character, -but with whom he had joined in companionship only through the hope of -recovering at least one-half of that treasure to gain which, in the -first instance, he had imbrued his hands in blood. There he was--alone -with that miscreant, in a place the aspect of which was sufficient -to fill his attenuated soul with the gloomiest thoughts and the most -melancholy forebodings,--alone with a demon in human shape, in a ruined -and desolate tenement, to augment the cheerless influence of which -superstition had lent its aid,--alone with a very fiend, in a haunt the -ominous features of which were dimly shadowed forth and rendered more -hideous by the dull, glimmering light of the solitary candle with its -long wick and its sickly flame. - -“Well--what are you thinking of?--and why don’t you drink?” were -the words which, suddenly falling on the old man’s ears after a -pause, awoke him as it were from a lethargy--a lethargy, however, -in which the mind had been painfully active, though the body was -motionless--petrified! - -“I--I--was wondering how long we should have to remain here,” stammered -Torrens, starting as if shaken by a strong spasm or moved by an -electric shock. - -“I asked you the question just now--and--and you did not give me a -reply.” - -“Well--it all depends, my fine feller,” answered Vitriol Bob. “Three or -four days, perhaps----” - -“Three or four days!” almost shrieked Torrens. “I shall die if I linger -so long in this horrible place!” - -“Die, indeed!” ejaculated the ruffian, in a contemptuous tone. “Why, -Lord bless you--I’ve stayed here for three veeks at a time, afore -now--without ever budging out. Not be able to linger, as you call it, -in this comfortable crib--smoke and drink all day long--or drink only, -if you don’t like smoking--and sleep in one of them Windsor-cheers as -cozie as a bug in a rug! Besides, won’t you have me for a companion----” - -“No--no: I can not--will not endure it!” exclaimed Torrens, starting up -from his chair,--his countenance hideous with its workings--his nerves -strung to the most painful state of tension--and a thousand frightful -thoughts rushing in, with the speed and fury of a torrent, upon his -appalled soul. - -“Hold your cursed jaw, you fool!” growled Vitriol Bob, in a tone of -sudden rage: “you will be heard in the street--and----” - -“I care not!” screamed Torrens, louder than before. “Give me my share -of the money--let me depart----” - -“Be quiet, I say!” spoke the ruffian, in a still more irritated voice, -while he sprang from his seat on the barrel; “or I shall do you a -mischief.” - -“I care not!” again cried Torrens--and again his tone grew still more -piercing and shriekingly hysterical; for he was wrought up to a state -of utter despair. “Give me my money, I say--give me----” - -“Fool--be still!” exclaimed Vitriol Bob, rushing round the table, and -grasping the old man by the throat. - -But Torrens, inspired with a sudden strength that astonished the -ruffian, broke away from his gripe, and rushed towards the door, crying -“Murder--murder!” - -“Damnation!” thundered Bob; and bounding after him, he sprang upon the -old man with the fury and the force of a tiger. - -“Murder!” again yelled the affrighted, desperate Torrens: but in -another instant he was dashed violently against the wall. - -A moan succeeded his agonising cry--and he fell heavily upon the -floor. Vitriol Bob then jumped upon him--and the attenuated form of -the wretched old man writhed beneath the heavy feet of the murderous -ruffian. - -There was a faint and stifling appeal for “Mercy! mercy!”--but the -miscreant silenced it with a ferocious stamp of his heel on the mouth -of the dying man;--and in a few moments all was over! - -Vitriol Bob was now alone, in the gloomy, cheerless place, with the -crushed and disfigured corpse of him whom he had literally trampled to -death. - -But scarcely was the deed accomplished, when a noise, as of gravel -thrown from the street against the kitchen window, fell upon the -ears of the murderer, whose countenance instantly expanded into an -expression of grim delight at the well-known signal. - -“Here’s Pig-faced Poll!” he exclaimed hastily: and then he paused to -listen again. - -At the expiration of about a minute the signal was repeated; and -Vitriol Bob, no longer harbouring the slightest doubt, hurried up the -stairs to open the street-door. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXVI. - -SCENES IN THE HAUNTED HOUSE. - - -At five-and-twenty minutes past ten, on this eventful night, Mrs. -Mortimer entered the narrow lane leading from the Blackfriars Road into -Collingwood Street. - -We have already stated that she had persuaded herself into a belief -of Jack Rily’s fidelity towards his partner or pal in any enterprise: -nevertheless, she could not help wishing that the business in hand was -over--and she mentally exclaimed more than once, as she threaded the -lane, “Would that to-morrow morning were come!” But she had such a -powerful inducement to proceed in the affair at any risk, that the idea -of retreating was discarded each time it faintly suggested itself; and -when Jack Rily made his appearance, punctually to an instant, she felt -her courage worked up to such a pitch that it was difficult to decide -whether it arose from entire confidence or utter desperation. - -“So, here you are, my fine old tiger-cat,” said the doctor, grasping -her hand, with a force that might have been very friendly, but was not -the less painful on that account. “I thought you would not flinch: -indeed, I made sure you’d come to the scratch.” - -“What have I to be afraid of--since you are so sure of being able -to overpower the wretch whom you call Vitriol Bob!” demanded Mrs. -Mortimer, in a firm tone. “I have already told you that I will -undertake to manage the villain Torrens.” - -“I long to see you grapple with him,” returned the doctor. “But we -must not waste time in idle observations. Listen, my good lady, to our -plan of proceeding. Vitriol Bob has a female acquaintance called Molly -Calvert--or, in more familiar terms, Pig-faced Poll. This young woman -knows his haunt--knows also the signals necessary to induce him to open -the door. Besides, whenever he’s missing, she goes straight there, with -a basket of provisions and what not--because she naturally suspects -that he has done something queer and has found it convenient to make -himself scarce. Well--you must be Pig-faced Poll for the nonce----” - -“I understand you,” interrupted Mrs. Mortimer. “It is for me to give -the signal and obtain admission----” - -“Just so, my dear madam--and for us both--because if ever Molly Calvert -and I go there together, it’s always the young woman herself who -whispers a word of assurance to Vitriol Bob when he opens the door.” - -“But suppose that the young woman you speak of, has already repaired to -the robber’s haunt--suppose that she is already with him----” - -“Now don’t take Jack Rily for an arrant fool!” said the ruffian; and, -dark though it were in the narrow lane where this colloquy took place, -Mrs. Mortimer could see the huge white teeth of her companion gleaming -through the opening of his horrid hare-lip. “I know what I am about,” -he continued. “Lord bless you! do you think I have been idle since I -saw you this morning? No such thing! I went straight away to Molly -Calvert, and made her send out for a bottle of gin. She is uncommonly -fond of blue ruin--particularly when she drinks at another person’s -expense; and as she drank this afternoon at mine, she did not spare it. -In a word, I left her in such a helpless state of intoxication, that -if she moves off her bed before two or three o’clock in the morning, -then tell Jack Rily he is a fool and incapable of managing any business -whatsoever.” - -“I give you all possible credit for sagacity and forethought,” said -Mrs. Mortimer, purposely flattering the ruffian. “Well, then, the young -woman you speak of is placed in a condition which will render her -incapable of interfering with our proceedings; and I must personate her -for a moment or two, just to obtain admission into the home.” - -“_Personate her_ is scarcely the term, my dear madam,” answered Jack -Rily: “because if Vitriol Bob only caught a glimpse of you by the -neighbouring lamp-light, he would know deuced well that it was not -the Pig-faced who sought admission. But it is a mere matter of _vocal -stratagem_, if you understand me.” - -“Speak plainly and briefly,” said Mrs. Mortimer, with some degree of -sharpness in her tone. - -“I will put it all into a nut-shell,” responded Jack Rily: then, with -rapid utterance but impressive enunciation, he continued:--“The first -signal is made by throwing a little gravel at a certain window; but, -as that might be accidental, it is necessary to repeat it at the -expiration of a minute or so. In a few seconds afterwards Vitriol Bob -will open the front door as far as the chain inside will permit--and -that is barely an inch: you must then immediately whisper, ‘_It’s me -and the Doctor_,’ and the door will be instantly opened wide, Bob -standing behind it. You pass rapidly in--and I’m at your heels; and -as the passage and the stairs leading down to the kitchen are as dark -as pitch, he won’t observe that it is _not_ Molly Calvert whom he has -admitted into the house. Now, mind, you must walk straight along the -passage, and gain the stairs--and all this without any hesitation, -but with an apparent knowledge of the premises. Go rapidly down the -stairs, and you will then see a light straight before you. That will -be in the front kitchen--and there you are certain to find Torrens. -Spring upon him--tackle him desperately: there will not be a minute to -lose--because the moment you appear in his presence, he will recognise -you--he will utter a cry--and that must be the signal for the fight. -Vitriol Bob will be just behind me--and----” - -“You will assail him at the instant that I pounce upon Torrens?” said -the old woman, with a bitter malignity in her tone, as she already -gloated in anticipation upon the vengeance which she hoped to wreak -upon her husband. - -“Perform your part, ma’am--do all I have told you,” observed Jack Rily; -“and leave the rest to me. And now are you ready?” - -“Quite,” was the reply. “In which direction do we proceed?” - -“The house is in Stamford Street,” answered the Doctor. “But you had -now better follow me at a short distance.” - -With these words, the man turned round, and proceeded along the narrow -lane into the Blackfriars Road, up which he wended his way until he -reached the corner of Stamford Street, where he looked back to satisfy -himself that Mrs. Mortimer was in his track. He beheld her, by the -light of the lamps, at a short distance behind; and, turning into -Stamford Street, he was duly followed by her. Halting for a moment, he -stooped down, gathered a few small pebbles from the side of the road -joining the kerb-stone, and threw them at a window in the area of the -dilapidated house which stood third from the corner. He then walked on -a few paces, picked up some more little stones and hard crusted dirt, -and turning back, met Mrs. Mortimer just opposite the house alluded -to. The second volley was discharged at the window; and then they both -stationed themselves at the door of the tenement, Mrs. Mortimer being -placed in the most convenient position to give an answer to any summons -that might issue from within. - -The door was opened an inch or two; and the old woman, feigning the -tone of a younger female, whispered hastily, “It’s me and the Doctor.” -Thereupon the chain fell inside, and the door was opened half-way, -Vitriol Bob standing behind it. - -Mrs. Mortimer passed hastily in, followed by Jack Rily; and Vitriol -Bob, closing the door noiselessly, readjusted the chain. - -“Take care, Poll,” he said, in a hoarse and low tone: “don’t be in such -a devil of a hurry to get down them stairs--’cos there’s somethink in -the door-way of the kitchen that you might stumble over.” - -“What is it, Bob?” demanded Jack Rily, hastily; for inasmuch as the -real truth flashed to his mind in an instant, he feared lest Mrs. -Mortimer should likewise suspect the fact, and, being thrown off her -guard, betray herself by some sudden exclamation. - -“What is it?--why, a stiff ’un,” responded Vitriol Bob, with a -chuckling laugh which sounded horribly in the midst of the total -darkness that prevailed in the passage and on the stairs. “I s’pose -Poll has let you into the business, since you’ve come along with her,” -continued the man; “and though I don’t see what right she had to tell -you anythink about it, I ain’t sorry you have come--’cos you can help -me to bury the old feller, and you shall have your reglars.” - -Mrs. Mortimer now fully comprehended that Torrens had been murdered; -and an appalling dread seized upon her--for she felt that she was -completely in the power of two diabolical ruffians, who were as capable -of assassinating her as one had already been to make away with her -husband. - -A faintness came over her--and she staggered against the wall for -support; when Jack Rily, in answer to Vitriol Bob’s last observations, -said, “Oh! Poll didn’t tell me a single word about any business that -you had in hand: but as I met her quite by accident and suspected she -was coming here, I forced myself, as one may say, upon her company--for -I thought you’d be glad to see an old pal, if you was under a cloud.” - -These words instantaneously re-assured Mrs. Mortimer. She comprehended -that her confederate had uttered them, too, for that purpose; and it -flashed to her mind that he only wanted to get Vitriol Bob down into -the lower part of the house in order to make an attack upon him. She -accordingly recovered her self-possession, and rapidly groped her way -to the bottom of the stairs, when a feeble light, glimmering from the -kitchen, showed her a sinister object lying just inside the threshold. - -The blood ran cold in her veins: for, much as she had hated -Torrens--anxiously as she had longed to be avenged upon him--profoundly -as she abhorred the tie that to some degree had linked their fates, she -nevertheless felt horrified at the conviction that the murdered man lay -there--in her very path! - -Nevertheless, she still maintained her courage as well as she could, -and, hastily passing the lifeless form, entered the cheerless, gloomy -kitchen, which indeed appeared to be the proper haunt for such a -miscreant as Vitriol Bob, and the fitting scene for such a tragedy as -the one which had been enacted there that night! - -In the middle of the kitchen she paused, and listened with breathless -suspense. - -Jack Rily had just reached the bottom of the stairs leading thither: -Vitriol Bob had only just begun to descend them. - -“Well, here is indeed a stiff ’un,” exclaimed the former, stopping -short in the interval between the foot of the steps and the threshold -of the kitchen. “What had he done to you, Bob?--and when did this -happen?” - -“Wait a moment--and I’ll tell you all about it,” was the reply. “I hope -Poll has brought lots of grub--for the business hasn’t taken away my -appetite.” - -“She has got a basket with her,” said Jack Rily. - -At this moment Vitriol Bob reached the bottom of the stairs, when the -Doctor sprang upon him with the sudden violence of a savage monster; -and the murderer was thrown back on the steps. - -“Treachery!” he exclaimed, in a tone resembling the subdued roar of a -wild beast irritated by its keeper; and the two men were locked in a -close embrace--a deadly struggle immediately commencing. - -A mortal terror struck to the heart of Mrs. Mortimer, who knew full -well that if her confederate should succumb, her own life would not -be worth a moment’s purchase; and for upwards of a minute she stood -rivetted to the spot, listening to the sounds of the conflict which she -could not see. - -Suddenly it struck her that she might aid her companion; and, taking -from beneath her shawl a coil of rope with which she had intended to -bind Torrens, whom she had made certain of subduing, she rushed to the -scene of the struggle. - -The gleam of light that reached that place, was sufficient, feeble -though it were, to show her that Vitriol Bob had the advantage. He -had succeeded in getting uppermost; and Jack Rily was struggling -desperately underneath the man whose strength he had miscalculated. The -conflict was thus progressing, accompanied by deep, low, but bitter -execrations, when Mrs. Mortimer, whom a sense of danger suddenly -restored to complete self-possession, threw a noose round Vitriol -Bob’s neck, and instantly drew it tight,--exclaiming, as she performed -this rapid and well-executed feat, “Courage, Rily,--courage: grasp him -firmly--loosen not your hold!” - -“Damnation!” ejaculated Vitriol Bob, the moment he felt the cord upon -his neck and heard a strange female voice,--at the same time making a -desperate--nay, almost superhuman effort to tear himself away from his -foe and turn round on his new enemy. - -But the woman drew the cord as tight as she could, and a sense of -faintness came suddenly over the murderer,--so that Jack Rily was in -another instant enabled to get uppermost once more. - -“Tie his legs, old lady--and then we’ve nothing more to fear!” cried -he, as he placed one knee on Vitriol Bob’s chest, and held the -vanquished ruffian’s wrists firmly with the iron grasp of his sinewy -hands. “Now, keep quiet, old fellow--or you’ll be strangled,” he -continued, addressing himself to the wretch whose eyes glared savagely -up at him even amidst the obscurity of the place: “It’s useless to -resist--you are my prisoner,--and if it’s necessary to make you safer -still, I’ll draw my clasp-knife across your throat--which I should be -sorry to do, on account of old acquaintanceship.” - -“What--what have I done to you--Jack--to--to deserve this?” gasped -Vitriol Bob, half strangled with the noose, which, however, was now -somewhat relaxed in consequence of Mrs. Mortimer being occupied in -tying the other end of the rope round his ankles--a task which she -performed with amazing skill and rapidity, and which, in consequence of -Rily’s menaces, the vanquished one did not think it prudent to resist. - -“I’ll tell you presently what you have done, Bob,” said the Doctor, in -answer to the other’s query. “Now that you are bound neck and heels, -you are not very formidable: nevertheless, I must just make your arms -secure--and then we’ll hold a parley. Here, old lady--put your hand -in the pocket on the right side of my coat, and give me out the cord -you’ll find there. That’s right! Come--be steady, Bob--or I shall do -you a mischief yet.” - -The conqueror then proceeded to bind the wrists of the vanquished; and -when this was done, he said, “Now, my fine fellow, I will just carry -you into the kitchen; and if there is any brandy there, you shall have -a drop to wash the dust out of your mouth.” - -With these words, Jack Rily raised Vitriol Bob in his arms, and bore -him into the kitchen, where he placed him on a chair; and the murderer -now perceived for the first time that the female who had mainly -contributed to his defeat, was the one whom himself and Torrens had -robbed. - -Jack Rily, on examining the bottle which he found upon the table, -discovered that there was plenty of liquor left in it; and, filling -a tumbler, he placed it to the lips of Vitriol Bob, who greedily -swallowed the contents--for his throat was indeed parched with the dust -raised by the late struggle and the semi-strangulation he had endured. - -“Now, my hyena friend--my tiger-cat accomplice,” said the Doctor, -turning towards Mrs. Mortimer, who, exhausted in mind and body, had -sunk into a chair, “you will likewise partake of the stimulant. And -mark you, madam,” he added, with deep emphasis, and in a tone that was -particularly re-assuring to the old woman, “I owe you my life--and, -whatever my intentions concerning you originally were, I can only now -say that I’ll do all that’s fair and honourable towards you. But enough -of that: so, drink!” - -Mrs. Mortimer, greatly delighted at the result of the night’s -expedition, smiled as cordially as her repulsive countenance would -permit; but Jack Rily surveyed her with much admiration, for she -reminded him at the moment of a pleased hyena after a copious meal. His -satisfaction was enhanced by the readiness with which she tossed off -the burning fluid; and, taking his turn with the brandy, he drank to -her health. - -“Now to business once more!” he exclaimed, as he set the glass upon the -table. “And first, where’s the money, Bob?” he demanded turning towards -the helpless ruffian, who sat moody and scowling in the chair in which -be had been placed. - -“I suppose you mean to let me have my reglars, Jack?” he said, in a -tone which he endeavoured to render as conciliatory and agreeable as -possible. - -“Not a blessed halfpenny, Bob--and that’s flat,” responded the Doctor, -as he plunged his hands into the pockets of his prisoner. “Ah! here’s -the swag--and a precious heavy parcel it is too!” he exclaimed, after -a few moments’ pause, and in a joyous tone. “My dear madam,” continued -the villain, handing the brown paper packet to Mrs. Mortimer, “count -it over--see that it’s right--and divide its contents equally. You may -as well be satisfied at once that I mean to do what is right towards -you--and then, may be, you will think seriously of the propriety of our -clubbing our fortunes together, and setting up as a gentleman and lady -living on our means--that is, you know, as Mr. and Mrs. Rily.” - -All the latter portion of this long sentence was lost--entirely lost -upon Mrs. Mortimer: for the moment that her hands grasped the brown -paper parcel--that parcel which was so significantly weighty--her -whole attention was absorbed in the task of examining its contents. -She placed it upon the table; and, by the dim flickering light of -the miserable candle, she counted the yellow pieces--turned over the -soiled notes--and carefully reckoned up the whole,--exclaiming, at -the completion of the business, “It is all right, save in respect to -a single sovereign, which I dare say the rogues changed and spent -directly. Here is your share, Mr. Rily--and I thank you much for your -valuable aid.” - -“You are the handsomest ogress I ever saw, when you appear gloating -over the recovered gold,” said the Doctor. “If I could afford it, I -would actually and positively give you my portion just to have the -pleasure of contemplating your physiognomy while you fingered it. But -perhaps we may have all things in common yet between you and me.” - -Thus speaking, the ruffian secured his share of the spoil about his -person--an example that was immediately followed by Mrs. Mortimer in -respect to her division;--and all the while Vitriol Bob sate looking on -with a countenance of the most demoniac ferocity. It was evident that, -could the wretch release himself from his bonds, his rage would endow -him with a strength calculated to give matters quite another turn: but -he was helpless--powerless,--and this consciousness of his enthralled -predicament only rendered his hatred the more savage against his -successful enemies, and made his longings for revenge the more eager -and also the more torturing on account of their unavailing intensity. - -“I will now tell you, Bob,” said Jack Rily, turning towards him, “why -I have played you this trick--and you will acknowledge that it is only -tit for tat. You remember the swell’s crib we broke into at Peckham? -Well--you found a bag containing a hundred and twenty sovereigns, in a -drawer--and you never mentioned a word about it when we came to divide -the plunder.” - -“It’s a lie--a damned lie!” ejaculated the villain, ferociously. - -“Say that again,” cried the Doctor, his hare-lip becoming absolutely -white with rage, while the scar upon his cheek grew crimson,--“and -I will cut your throat from ear to ear. How could I invent such a -tale? But I saw the advertisement in the papers about the robbery--I -read that a bag containing a hundred and twenty pounds in gold was -abstracted from a chest of drawers--and I well remembered that you -searched those drawers, and afterwards assured me there was nothing in -them worth taking. I did not tell you that I had thus become aware of -your treachery, because I resolved to be revenged some day or other. -That day has now arrived--and you have the consolation of knowing -that you have lost thousands in consequence of your beggarly meanness -respecting a paltry sixty sovereigns, which was my share of the sum you -kept back.” - -“Well--’sposing it is all as you say, Jack,” exclaimed Vitriol Bob, -assuming a humble and indeed abject tone,--“ain’t you more than even -with me to-night? and won’t you let me have my reglars? We shall then -be good friends again.” - -“I do not mean to give you one farthing of my money--and I know this -old lady won’t,” responded the Doctor. “As to our being friends again, -I care not whether we become so, or whether we continue enemies. -You can’t do me so much harm as I can you, Bob,” added Rily, in -an impressive manner, and without a particle of his usual coarse -jocularity: “for you have to-night done a deed that, if known, would -send you to the scaffold.” - -A deadly pallor passed over the countenance of the murderer; and he -writhed in his chair with mingled rage and terror. - -“Now, my old hyena,” exclaimed the doctor, turning towards Mrs. -Mortimer, “I told you that you should have a good opportunity of seeing -Vitriol Bob in all his hideousness. Which do you think is the ugliest -of the two--he or me?” - -And he grinned so horribly with his hare-lip and his gleaming teeth, -that the old woman was for an instant appalled by the fiendish, -malignant joy that caused his countenance thus to assume so frightful -an expression. - -“Well--you don’t like to pass an opinion upon the matter,” he said, -with a chuckling laugh: “may be you think I am the ugliest of the two, -and that it would hurt my feelings to tell me so. Lord bless you, -my dear madam--a right down savage, ferocious, revolting ugliness -is a splendid subject for admiration to my mind. The uglier people -are--provided it’s the right sort of ugliness--the handsomer they -are in my eyes. This may seem paradoxical--but it’s the truth; and -it’s on that principle I am ready to marry you to-morrow, if you’ll -have me. However--think upon it: there’s no hurry for your decision, -my dear creature--pardon me for being so familiar. And now I may as -well tell you that it was not my original intention to let you have -one penny piece of all that swag,” he continued, after a few moments’ -pause. “I had purposed to make use of you in obtaining it--and then -self-appropriate it; because I didn’t look upon you in the light of -a pal with whom it was necessary to keep faith. The moment, however, -that you interfered in the struggle just now, the case became suddenly -altered: you saved my life--and I wouldn’t harm a hair of your head -for all the world. So you are quite welcome to take your departure at -once if you will: but I should esteem it a mark of confidence if you’d -remain here with me a few hours longer--and I’ll tell you why.” - -“Show me a good reason,and I shall not object,” remarked Mrs. Mortimer, -knowing that the man, in spite of his conciliatory observations, had -the power to enforce, if he chose, what he seemed to ask as a favour. - -“I will explain myself,” resumed Jack Rily: then glancing towards -Vitriol Bob, he said, “Our friend here must remain in that condition -until I can send Pig-faced Poll to release him from his bonds. It would -not be worth while to risk another conflict by taking on ourselves the -part of liberators. His young woman shall therefore be entrusted with -that agreeable duty: but as she is drunk in bed----” - -[Illustration] - -Vitriol Bob uttered a sound resembling the savage but subdued growl of -a wild beast. - -“As she is drunk in bed,” repeated Jack Rily, with a chuckle, “she -won’t be fit to undertake the task until it’s pretty near daylight; and -it would not be safe to leave the poor devil alone here for so many -hours. I don’t seek his death; but he might fall off his chair, tumble -flat on his face, and not be able to right himself--for it’s by no -means an easy thing to shift one’s position when bound neck and heels -like that. So remain with him I must and will. His company will not, -however, prove the most agreeable after all that has occurred betwixt -us; and now you can guess why I ask you as a favour to stay with -me--say till two o’clock, when we will take our departure and send Poll -Calvert, who will be sufficiently sober by that time, to cut his cords.” - -“I consent to remain here until two o’clock,” said Mrs. Mortimer: -“only----” - -And she glanced, with shuddering aversion, towards the door. - -“Ah! I understand you, my dear tiger-cat,” exclaimed Jack Rily: “you -don’t admire the presence of the stiff ’un there. Lord bless you! if -you’d only been my wife when I was a doctor, you would have become -familiar enough with articles of that kind--aye, and have thought -nothing of shaking hands with a resurrection man. But it’s all habit; -and so, since you would feel more comfortable if that bundle over there -was moved, I’ll just drag it into the back kitchen--and our friend here -will doubtless amuse himself by burying it to-morrow night.” - -Having thus delivered himself with characteristic levity, the Doctor -rose from the barrel whereon he had been seated, and taking up the -candle, proceeded to transfer the dead body of Torrens from the -threshold of the door into the back kitchen. - -Mrs. Mortimer was now left in the company of the murderer, and in total -darkness; and though she knew that he was bound beyond a chance of -self-release, yet a cold shudder passed over her frame, as she thought -of what would be the consequences were it possible for him to cast off -the strong cords that restrained him. - -Scarcely had this reflection entered her mine, when a voice--stealing, -at it were, like the hiss of an invisible serpent through the utter -darkness of the place--smote upon her ear. - -“Madam--Mrs. Mortimer--loosen the cord--and I will give you half of -what I shall then take from that villain Rily!” were the earnest, -hastily uttered words that were thus suddenly whispered by the murderer. - -The old woman was so startled that she could make no reply; and in -another moment the light reappeared. - -She mechanically cast her eyes towards Vitriol Bob; and the returning -glimmer fell upon a countenance infuriate with rage, disappointment, -and renewed spite;--but she did not think it worth while to mention to -the Doctor the treacherous proposal that had been made to her during -his temporary absence. - -“I have put the corpse in the back kitchen,” said Rily, resuming his -seat on the barrel: then, after a few moments’ pause, he observed, -“This is the second murder that has been committed in this house.” - -“The second!” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, suddenly animated with a feeling -of morbid curiosity. - -“Yes--the second,” repeated Rily. “What! did you never hear how these -three houses came to be shut up, and why they are supposed to be -haunted?” - -“Never,” answered the old woman, her manner convincing the garrulous -Mr. John Rily that she had no objection to be enlightened on the -subject. - -“Well--as it can’t be more than half-past eleven o’clock, and we have -two hours and a half to pass away, according to agreement, in this -place,” resumed the Doctor, “I don’t mind telling you the whole story. -Our friend Bob here has heard it often enough, I dare say: but he will -himself admit that it bears telling over and over again.” - -Jack Rily paused for a few moments, and then commenced the promised -narrative, which we shall, however, put into our own language, the -semi-jocular and flippant style of the Doctor not being quite suited -for so serious a history. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXVII. - -HISTORY OF THE HAUNTED HOUSES IN STAMFORD STREET. - - -Twenty-five years ago there were not three nicer looking houses -in Stamford Street than those which are now so dilapidated and so -wretched in appearance both outside and internally. The corner -dwelling was inhabited by an old gentleman and his son. Their name -was Mitchell; and a handsomer youth than Leonard, who at that period -had just completed his twentieth year, was seldom to be met with. -But it was not only on account of his prepossessing person, elegant -manners, and great talents, that he was a general favourite: it was -likewise in consequence of his admirable behaviour towards his father. -Mr. Mitchell was for many years a partner in an eminent mercantile -firm; but the sudden death of a beloved wife, who had long been -suffering with a disease of the heart, and who one evening fell a -corpse at her husband’s feet after having appeared gay and cheerful -a few minutes previously, produced such an effect upon him that -he was thrown on a sick bed, whence he arose at the expiration of -several months--palsied in all his limbs! Although he still retained -possession of his intellect, yet his spirit appeared to be completely -broken, and his energies were crushed. An arrangement was accordingly -effected, by virtue of which he withdrew from the firm on condition -of receiving four hundred pounds a year for the remainder of his -life. These incidents occurred during Leonard’s seventeenth year; and -the affectionate youth immediately devoted himself to the duty of -rendering his afflicted sire’s existence as pleasing--or rather, as -little burthensome as possible. His attentions were unremitting, and -yet so delicately administered that the old man was not suffered to -feel how completely dependent he was, for solace and comfort, on his -only child. When the weather was fine, Leonard invariably had some -excuse to induce his father to go out for a walk; and as he supported -the arm of that tottering, feeble, trembling parent, he conversed in -a gay and unrestrained manner, conjuring up those topics which he -knew to be agreeable to the invalid, and never--never exhibiting the -least impatience at being thus chained as it were to the side of the -sufferer. Of an evening, the young man would read aloud those works -which best suited his father’s taste: or he would sit for hours playing -at chess--a game of which Mr. Mitchell was particularly fond. When -invited to a party, Leonard would at first promise to attend, so that -his father might not perceive that he remained away entirely on his -account: but the youth was always sure to have a convenient head-ache -or to sprain his ankle, or adopt some other ingenious and equally -venial little device, in order to have an apology for staying at home. -Now and then his father would see through his motive, and insist upon -him keeping his engagement,--in which case Leonard was always sure to -leave long before the breaking-up of the party; and, on his return -home, he would creep noiselessly to his father’s chamber to assure -himself, ere he proceeded to his own, that the old man was comfortable -and wanted for nothing. In a word, the devotion of this youth to his -afflicted sire was such that all who knew him beheld him with mingled -admiration and respect: and even the giddiest and most thoughtless -young men of his acquaintance could not bring themselves to joke or -jeer him for that conduct which, in any other, they would have looked -upon as a steadiness and sedateness carried to an extreme. - -Next door to the Mitchells--that is to say, in the central of the three -houses to which this narrative relates--dwelt Mr. Pomfret, who, by the -secession of the paralysed old gentleman, had become the head of the -firm, the business premises of which were in the City. Mr. Pomfret was -likewise a widower, and likewise possessed an only child. Ellen Pomfret -was a year younger than Leonard; and she was as beautiful as he was -handsome. They had been acquainted from childhood; and the affection -which in its origin was such as exists between a brother and a sister, -by natural degrees ripened into a devoted and profoundly-rooted love. -In the estimation of all who know them, there was a remarkable fitness -in the union of this admirable pair: their style of beauty--their -dispositions--their manners--their acquirements, were of a nature to -adapt them for each other. They were both tall, slight, and gracefully -formed: Ellen’s hair was of a rich brown, scarcely a shade deeper than -that of Leonard;--their foreheads were high and intellectual;--their -eyes were of deep blue--hers more melting and tender than his, which -were animated with the fire of a noble and generous spirit;--and never -did man nor woman possess finer teeth than theirs. Both were fond of -music and drawing: both were imbued with deep religious feelings, -sincere and even enthusiastic--but utterly devoid of bigotry and -uncharitableness;--and both loved virtue for its own sake. Faith with -them was a delight and an inspiration encouraging fond hopes in respect -to this world and confidence in the next,--a religion that knew naught -of ascetic gloom, but that seemed to trace life’s pathway amidst love, -and perfume, and flowers! - -Mrs. Pomfret had died when Ellen was about fourteen; and for the two -following years the maiden was blessed with the companionship and -counsels of a kind aunt, who, immediately after the decease of her -sister, took up her abode in the house. But death snatched her away -to the tomb shortly after the sixteenth birth-day of her niece, who -was thus left alone as it were with her father. Mr. Pomfret, though a -kind and well-meaning man originally, was not a prudent one. He had -an over-weening confidence in his commercial abilities and financial -foresight; and he was thus led into speculations from which his -friends, had he condescended to consult them, would have dissuaded him. -Many of these speculations he undertook on his own private account, -and independently of the firm of which, as above described, he became -the head; and his numerous affairs accordingly kept him much away from -home. Ellen was therefore a great deal alone: for maidenly prudence -prevented her from calling in next door as often as she could have -desired, or as Leonard would have wished to see her. Still she did now -and then pass an hour or two with Mr. Mitchell and his son, relieving -the latter in his task of reading or his post at the chess-table. The -old gentleman was deeply attached to Ellen Pomfret; and the more so, -inasmuch as it appeared to be a settled thing that the two families -were to be closely united by means of the marriage of the young people. -But no day was fixed for this event--nor indeed did the engagement -appear to be more than a tacit one; for the reader must remember that -at the time when we introduce the hero and heroine of this narrative, -the former was only twenty years of age, and the latter nineteen. - -The third house to which our present history especially refers, was -inhabited by an old bachelor, who at the time alluded to was upwards -of sixty. He was a fine man for his age--boasted that he had not -yet taken to spectacles--and walked as upright and as rapidly as if -he were twenty years younger. His rubicund countenance was the very -picture of good-nature: and a very good-natured being he in reality -was. But he was whimsical and eccentric to a degree; and, though very -rich and proud of his elegantly furnished abode, he seldom invited a -grown-up person to cross his threshold--much less to partake of his -hospitality. But, on the other hand, he was devotedly attached to -children; and his greatest delight was to assemble a dozen or so of -his neighbours’ little sons and daughters in his comfortable parlour -or handsome drawing-room, and make them all as happy as he could. -This was certainly a strange and most unusual predilection for an old -bachelor to entertain;--but there are exceptions to all rules--and Mr. -Gamble was a living proof of the dogma. He was wont to say that it did -his heart good to behold rosy-cheeked, flaxen-haired, laughing-eyed -children romping about him,--that it awakened blessed feelings in his -soul to hear their merry shouts and witness their innocent mirth,--and -that he fancied himself young again when presiding at the table around -which he gathered them, and where he dispensed fruit, cake, sweet wine, -and comfitures with no niggard hand. Be it understood, then, that--at -least to our mind--Mr. Gamble was a most estimable character: for he -who is fond of children cannot possibly be a bad man--whereas we have -no confidence whatever in the individual who does _not_ experience a -lively interest in those endearing, artless little beings. Mr. Gamble -did not consider it to be at all derogatory to his nature or his age, -to join in the infantile sports which he loved so much to behold; and -when the curtains were drawn and the door closed, he would even consent -to become an active party to a game of blind-man’s-buff, or allow -himself to be converted for the nonce into a horse for the express -behoof of some chubby urchin more bold in his requisitions than the -rest. - -Mr. Gamble was indeed quite a character. He used frequently to -declare that he knew nothing more silly than to give dinner-parties. -“Friendship is a very queer thing,” he would say, “if it must be shown -by my eating at another’s expense, or by him coming to me to eat at -mine. I would sooner spend ten pounds upon cakes and oranges for -children who really enjoy them, than ten shillings on a repast for a -grown-up person, who eats in your presence as if under the influence -of a chilling ceremony.” Relative to adults, therefore, Mr. Gamble -neither gave nor accepted invitations: but twice or thrice a-week he -congregated his little friends around him--and the more they romped, -the better he was pleased,--the more noise they made, the higher -did his spirits rise. If they injured his furniture, he cared not, -provided it was the result of an accident: but if he once discovered a -predilection to wilful destructiveness, or if he were made the butt of -coarse rudeness instead of the object of innocent merriment, he never -again invited the offender to his abode. - -Considering that the habits of Mr. Gamble were such as we have taken -some little trouble to describe them, it may easily be supposed that -the neighbours were not a little astonished when it was rumoured, and -ascertained to be a positive fact, that Mr. Pomfret had veritably and -actually been invited to dine with that eccentric gentleman. This was -alone enough to create an impression that a revolution had taken place -in the opinions of the old bachelor: but the wonderment was excessive -when it was reported, and likewise discovered to be true, that Mr. -Gamble had dined in his turn with Mr. Pomfret. At first it was supposed -that the cunning merchant was seeking to ensnare the wealthy bachelor -into a marriage with the beautiful Ellen: but when it was remembered -that she was engaged to Leonard, and moreover when it was ascertained -that she had passed the evening at the Mitchell’s on the occasion -of the old bachelor dining with her father, the above-mentioned -speculation was instantly discarded. That a revolution _had_ taken -place in the habits of Mr. Gamble, was however very certain: for as -time wore on, after those first interchanges of civilities between -him and Mr. Pomfret, their intimacy appeared to increase, and the -parties given by the old bachelor to his juvenile friends grew less -frequent. At length not a day passed without an interview occurring -between Gamble and Pomfret: they were often closetted together for -hours in the evening, when the latter returned home from the City; and -the merchant was moreover frequently seen taking bundles of papers and -correspondence into the other’s house. It was therefore surmised that -they were engaged together in some speculation: but if this were the -case, it was kept very quiet--for even Ellen herself could give her -lover Leonard no explanation relative to the causes of the intimacy -that had sprung up so suddenly between her father and Mr. Gamble. - -A conversation which we are about to record, will however throw some -light upon the subject. It was about six months after the intimacy had -commenced, that Mr. Pomfret returned home from the City at a later -hour than usual, and with a countenance so pale and careworn, that -he appeared to his affrighted daughter ten years older than when he -quitted her in the morning. Ellen anxiously implored him to inform her -if anything unpleasant had occurred: but he gave her a sharp reply in -the negative--as much as to enjoin her to abstain from questioning -him in future. The poor girl turned aside to conceal the tears that -gushed from her eyes; and Mr. Pomfret, struck by the sudden conviction -that he had behaved most harshly to his amiable daughter, exclaimed, -“Forgive me, Ellen: but--to tell you the truth--I _have_ received -disagreeable intelligence in the City to-day; and it probably soured -my temper for the moment. You are a good girl,” he added, kissing the -tearful countenance that was now upturned towards his own; “and I -was wrong to speak unkindly to you. But let that pass: I shall have -more command over myself another time.”--“Pray do not dwell upon the -subject, my dearest father,” said Ellen. “Will you have dinner served -up at once?”--“No, my love,” was the answer: “I do not feel in any -humour for eating. I meant to say,” he added, hastily, but with some -degree of confusion, “I dined in the City to-day. And now I shall just -run in and see Mr. Gamble for an hour or two; and you can go and play a -game of chess with Mr. Mitchell. I shall return to supper presently: so -mind and be home again by half-past nine.”--“You told me the day before -yesterday, dear papa,” said Ellen, “that the next time I called on Mr. -Mitchell, I was to be sure and ask you for a cheque for the quarter’s -income due to him, and which has been standing over for nearly a -fortnight.”--“Oh! it does not matter this evening!” ejaculated Mr. -Pomfret, impatiently: “besides, I have not time to sit down and fill up -a cheque at present,” he added, a sickly expression passing over his -countenance, as if his heart were smitten painfully within his breast. -Then, without making another observation and in evident haste to avoid -further parlance on the subject, the merchant threw on his hat and -hurried next door. A sigh escaped from Ellen’s gentle bosom--for she -saw that there was some profound grief in the depths of her father’s -soul, and, anxious to escape from the distressing thoughts which such -a conviction was only too well calculated to engender, she made the -greater speed to dress herself for a visit to her neighbours. - -We must for the present follow Mr. Pomfret, whom we shall overtake -in Mr. Gamble’s back-parlour, which was fitted up as a library, and -contained a small but choice collection of books. The old bachelor was -discussing some cool claret--for it was in the midst of a hot summer; -and the moment the merchant made his appearance, he rang for another -glass. Mr. Pomfret sank upon a seat, with the air of a man who is -exhausted in mind and body; and when the servant had retired, he fixed -his eyes intently on his friend’s countenance, as he said in a low and -solemn tone, “Gamble, I have dreadful news for you!”--“For which I am -not altogether unprepared,” returned the old bachelor, his countenance -becoming serious--if not absolutely severe.--“How? what do you mean?” -demanded Pomfret, the gloomy expression of his features giving way -to one of profound astonishment.--“I mean,” replied Mr. Gamble, now -bending his gaze with unmistakeable sternness on his companion, “that -for a week past I have had forced upon my mind the painful conviction -that you were deceiving me.”--“Deceiving you!” cried Mr. Pomfret, his -cheek blanching, and his tall spare form trembling either with rage or -guilt, it was not easy immediately to decide which.--“Yes: deceiving -me, and most grossly deceiving me too!” exclaimed Mr. Gamble, striking -the table violently with his clenched fist.--Mr. Pomfret fell back in -his chair, aghast and speechless, like a man from whose countenance -the visor of duplicity has been suddenly torn.--“You doubtless desire -an explanation,” resumed Mr. Gamble; “and you shall have it. Six -months have elapsed, sir,” he continued, his tone becoming reproachful -rather than angry, “since I called at your counting-house in the -City to receive the amount of a draught which had been forwarded to -me from abroad by a gentleman to whom I advanced a certain sum many -years ago, and which I had given up as lost. The sudden and most -unexpected recovery of that amount somewhat renewed my confidence in -human nature--a confidence not altogether destroyed, but long dormant -in my breast. You remember that we began to converse upon commercial -topics; and you finally stated that if I did not immediately require -the sum I had called to receive, you knew how to lay it out for me in a -safe quarter and at good interest. I accepted the proposal;--firstly, -because the funds were so high at the moment that I did not choose to -buy the money in--secondly, because we were neighbours, and had known -each other, to speak to at least, for some years--and thirdly, because -I was in a good humour with mankind at the moment. You were pleased, -on your side; and when you wrote to me a few days afterwards to state -that the money was invested according to the terms settled between us, -I resolved to carry my good feeling still farther--and I asked you to -dinner. Subsequently you returned the compliment; and I began to think -that my long-sustained misanthropy was founded in error. This belief -opened my heart still farther towards you: and when I came to know -your amiable daughter, I felt convinced that all men and women were -_not_ deceivers. Such was the state of my mind--progressing from a -morbid to a healthy condition--when you proposed certain speculations -to me. I accepted them to a limited extent, and on particular terms. -I advanced the moneys you required to carry out your designs; but I -adopted the precaution to avoid anything like a partnership. And this -I did _only_ as a wise precaution--for I had tutored myself to place -the utmost confidence in you. As time wore on, you constantly demanded -fresh supplies--and I did not refuse them, so specious were your -representations. But by degrees I began to entertain vague suspicions -that everything was not as you would have me view it; and I latterly -instituted inquiries. A week only has elapsed since I acquired the -certainty that the larger portion of the money advanced by me to you -was never laid out in the way and for the purposes represented by -yourself; but that it has been employed to stop up gaps and supply -deficiencies in your deeply-embarrassed establishment!”--“My God! -this is but too true!” murmured the miserable Pomfret. “But you will -be merciful towards a man who is reduced to despair?”--“I shall not -harm you, sir: neither shall I expose you,” returned Mr. Gamble, while -the merchant’s countenance somewhat brightened up at this assurance. -“Perhaps, indeed,” added the old bachelor, after a slight pause, “I -may even save you yet.”--“Save me!” echoed Pomfret. “Oh! no: that is -impossible! I am so deeply involved that I owe three times as much -as all you are likely to possess.”--“I am not so sure of that, sir,” -returned Mr. Gamble, almost in a good-humoured tone: then, immediately -resuming his former seriousness of voice, he said “It is not so much -the loss of my fourteen thousand pounds that I deplore: but it is -that you have changed my habits, and I am not so happy as I was. The -dealings that I had with men in my earlier years, made me mistrust them -and taught me to look upon them with unvarying suspicion. Therefore -was it that when I became rich enough to retire into private life, and -more than rich enough for my purposes, I abjured the society of those -whom the world had spoilt, and sought the society of those who were -too young to be tainted by that world. I withdrew myself from the hot -atmosphere breathed by men and women, and joyed in the freshness of the -pure air in which frank, merry, artless, and sportive children dwelt. -My heart, while closing towards one section of the human race, expanded -towards another; and I have loved the infantine race as dearly--oh! as -dearly as if I had been the father of a vast family. But when I renewed -my intercourse with adults--that is to say, when I was tempted to join -your society and that of the two or three gentlemen and ladies whom I -have occasionally met at your house--I felt my love for that infantine -race diminishing: or rather, their presence afforded me less delight -and amusement. It is all this that I deplore; and the result has been -that my home now seems lonely, and the time hangs heavily upon my -hands. Nay, more: you have been the means of effecting that change in -me which has made me selfish: and I feel capable even of sacrificing -the happiness of another so long as I can in any way minister unto my -own.”--“I do not understand you,” said Pomfret, fearful that these last -words implied some vindictive allusion to himself.--“I will explain -my meaning,” replied Mr. Gamble. “You tell me that you are so deeply -involved that ruin stares you in the face!”--“I am so utterly denuded -of resources at this moment,” answered Pomfret, “that I cannot even -pay the quarter’s income due to my neighbour and late partner, Mr. -Mitchell.”--“And if you fail, that poor paralytic old man will be -reduced to beggary?” said Gamble.--Pomfret covered his face with his -hands, and groaned aloud. - -“Nay, more than all this,” continued the old bachelor, after a long -pause, during which he appeared to be sipping his claret complacently, -but was in reality reflecting profoundly,--“more than all this, your -partners will be utterly ruined; and they will curse you as the fatal -cause of their dishonour and their penury. Your daughter, too, will -become a portionless girl; and she will moan the follies of her father -that reduced her from a state of comparative affluence to a condition -of toil for a poor pittance. Lastly, that fine young man, Leonard -Mitchell, will hate and abhor you as the individual who has made his -father’s last years wretched and intolerable,and deprived the afflicted -septuagenarian of the very necessaries of life. All these terrible -things, Mr. Pomfret, will be accomplished on the day when your house -stops payment”--“I know it, alas! too well!” exclaimed the unhappy, -ruined merchant, clasping his hands together in deep agony.--“You are -not so old by ten or a dozen years as I am,” continued Mr. Gamble: -“and yet it does me harm to see you thus reduced to despair. But let -us not waste precious time. What is the amount that will save you from -ruin?”--“I dare not name it,” returned Pomfret--“This is foolish,” -exclaimed the old bachelor, severely: “come, answer me, or else let -our interview terminate at once. Again I demand of you the amount -that can prevent all the lamentable occurrences which I just now -detailed?”-“Eighty thousand pounds,” was the reply, delivered almost in -a fit of desperation. - -Mr. Gamble rose, opened his desk, and taking out some Bank securities, -directed the merchant’s attention to the sums specified in those -documents. “Ninety-five thousand pounds!” cried Pomfret, astonished -at these evidences of a wealth far greater than he had supposed the -old bachelor to be possessed of--“You perceive,” observed Mr. Gamble, -returning the papers to his desk, and resuming his seat,--“you perceive -that I am the master of means sufficient to save you from destruction. -Indeed, I can spare the sum necessary, and even then have four hundred -pounds a year left to live upon.”--“But is it possible that you can -even entertain the idea of assisting me to such an extent?” cried -Mr. Pomfret, scarcely able to believe his own ears, and trembling -lest he was indulging in a hope that had no other existence than in a -dream.--“It is quite possible, sir,” responded the old bachelor, piqued -that his word should be questioned even for a moment: “and now it all -depends upon yourself.”--“Upon myself!” repeated Mr. Pomfret, again -surveying his friend with mingled amazement and incredulity--“Yes: upon -yourself,” cried Mr. Gamble: “for the amount you require is at your -service, provided you consent to accept me as your son-in-law!”--These -words were delivered with a solemn seriousness of tone which forbade -the suspicion that they were uttered jocularly; and so completely -astounded was the merchant that several minutes elapsed before he could -make any reply During that interval Mr. Gamble still appeared to sip -his claret with calmness: but he was in reality awaiting with no small -degree of anxiety the answer that would be given to his proposal. - -“But do you love my daughter?” inquired Pomfret at length.--“I have -already told you that I begin to feel lonely and cheerless,” replied -Mr. Gamble; “and, moreover, I am irresistibly attracted towards -Miss Ellen. I may also say that I should feel proud and happy to -ensure her an independence: at the same time, I am not endowed with -sufficient philanthropy to induce me to save her father from ruin, -except on the condition of receiving her as a wife. If my suit be -refused, you are ruined; and will it in that case be prudent to -permit her to espouse that young Mitchell, who will likewise be -reduced to penury? It is clear that if she do not accept my offer, -circumstances will effectually interpose a barrier between herself and -Leonard; and thus, happen what will, she must renounce all hope of -becoming his bride.”--“And with the conviction that she _does_ love -Leonard Mitchell, would you accompany her to the altar?” inquired -Mr. Pomfret.--“Assuredly,” replied Mr. Gamble. “I have set my mind -upon it, and will risk everything. She is young, and a first love is -seldom more than a blaze of straw, ardent while it lasts, but speedily -exhausted. When she comes to know me well, and to reflect that I have -saved her father from ruin and dishonour,--when, too, she perceives -all the delicate attentions with which I shall surround her, and the -constancy of my endeavour to ensure her happiness,--she will yield -to the new influences to which she will be thus subjected; and she -will learn to look upon the old man with respect and veneration, with -gratitude and kindly feelings, if not with love. The trial may be for -the first few weeks severe; and there may be deep regrets following -upon the disappointment of the vivid hopes now cherished in her bosom. -But, believe me, she will at length succumb to the conviction that her -happiness has been better consulted by the course chalked out for her -by us, than by that into which the present state of her affections -might impel her.”--Pomfret was man of the world enough to know that -all this was mere sophistry; though Gamble himself believed that he -was arguing on the truest principles: but the merchant was better -acquainted than the old bachelor with the female heart. Nevertheless, -the temptation was irresistible to the man who hovered upon the verge -of ruin: the feelings of the father were sacrificed to the anxieties -of the merchant, who saw destruction staring him in the face;--and, -grasping Gamble’s hand, he said in a deep, impressive tone, “She is -yours!” - -In the meantime Ellen Pomfret, little suspecting how her destinies were -being disposed of elsewhere, was passing a couple of hours with Mr. -Mitchell and Leonard. The young man had noticed, the moment she entered -their parlour, that her countenance was pale; and, with the eagle -glance of a lover, he likewise discovered that she had been weeping. -Burning with impatience to ascertain the cause of her grief, and not -choosing to elicit an explanation in the presence of his father, for -fear anything might transpire to give the old gentleman pain, as he -was much attached to the young maiden, whom he looked upon as his -intended daughter-in-law,--Leonard exclaimed, as soon as she had paid -her respects to his parent, “You are just in time, Ellen, to help me -to tie up a few new plants which I have purchased:”--and, taking her -hand, he led her into the little garden at the back of the house. A -very little garden it was, too: but Leonard had made the most of the -circumscribed space; and he had in reality bought some choice flowers -in the morning. It was not however to them that he now directed the -lovely girl’s attention; but the moment they stood in the enclosure, -he took her hand, saying, “Ellen, dearest, you are unhappy this -evening: pray tell me what has annoyed you?”--Miss Pomfret, who was -ingenuousness itself, instantly related the scene that had taken place -between herself and her father; and the tears again started from her -eyes, as she remembered the harsh--almost brutal manner in which he -had spoken to her. Leonard hastened to kiss those diamond drops away -from the damask cheeks adown which they trickled; and he consoled her -by observing that persons in business were liable to those annoyances -that occasionally soured the temper and rendered them severe or hasty -even to the very beings whom they loved the most. Leonard’s powers -of persuasion were omnipotent with Ellen; and she speedily sniffled -through her tears. “And now,” continued the young man, “I will give -you a piece of intelligence that will, I hope, indemnify you, dearest, -for the little vexation you have just experienced. My father has this -day received a letter from an influential friend, stating that I may -rely upon being nominated to a clerkship in a Government Office in the -course of a month or six weeks.”--Ellen expressed her delight at these -news; and after the interchange of a few tender sentiments, the nature -of which our readers can well divine, the youthful lovers returned to -the parlour. There they sate and conversed with the old gentleman until -the time-piece on the mantel indicated that it was twenty-five minutes -past nine, when Ellen rose and took her departure, Leonard escorting -her to the door of the adjoining house, where she dwelt. - -Her father had returned about ten minutes previously. The curtains -were drawn in the parlour--the lamp was lighted--and the supper was in -readiness. The moment she entered the room, the beautiful girl cast -an anxious look towards her sire, to gather from his countenance, -if possible, whether his mind had become more composed: but she was -shocked to perceive that his cheeks were ashy pale, and that a strange, -ominous light gleamed in his restless, anxious eyes. She withdrew -her gaze instantly, fearful lest he might observe that she noticed -his peculiarity of manner and altered appearance; and, making some -casual remark, she turned to lay aside her bonnet and also to conceal -the tears that again started into her eyes. For Ellen was of an -affectionate disposition, and loved her father tenderly, and it touched -her heart to the very core to behold the traces of deep, deep care upon -his countenance. - -“You have seen Leonard this evening, Ellen?” said Mr. Pomfret, in a -tone so hollow that it startled her: and she could scarcely compose -herself sufficiently to murmur an affirmative.--“And do you love -him very, very much?” asked the merchant, after a long pause.--“Oh! -my dearest father,” she exclaimed, “you know that I do! Have we not -as it were been brought up together from childhood?”--“Yes, yes: -it is natural,” said Mr. Pomfret, bitterly: and he walked to the -mantel-piece, turning his back towards his daughter, to hide the -emotions that swelled his heart almost to bursting. But Ellen caught -sight of his agonising countenance in the mirror; and, terribly -excited, she sprang towards him and threw her arms around his neck, -crying, “Oh! my dearest parent, some dreadful grief oppresses you! May -I not share it? Can I not console you? Is there anything that I, poor -weak girl that I am, can do to ease you of this load of sorrow?”--“Yes, -Ellen,” hastily responded her father, determined to come at once to an -explanation with his daughter; for suspense and delay were intolerable. -“You can do all, everything for me: my honour in your hands! ’Tis for -you also to decide whether we shall be reduced to penury, or remain in -affluence--whether that poor palsied old man next door shall continue -to enjoy the comforts of life, or be plunged into destitution! In a -word, Ellen, my very existence is in your hands; for I will not live -to witness all the terrible afflictions that my accursed folly will -have entailed upon ourselves, as well as upon others!”--Ellen was so -taken by surprise as these alarming revelations burst upon her, that -she started back in dismay, and surveyed her sire with a look of such -passionate grief, that he himself grew affrighted in his turn; and -hastily approaching her, he led her to a seat, saying, “For God’s sake, -compose yourself, Ellen: you have need of all your firmness now!”--With -a frantic gesture she besought him to keep her no longer in suspense, -but to tell her the worst at once.--“I will not torture you, my love,” -said the wretched man, standing like a culprit in her presence. “Know, -then, that I hover on the brink of ruin. It is not that I think -bankruptcy dishonourable: no--the most upright men are liable to -misfortune and cannot control adversity. But, were I to fail, as I am -now circumstanced, I could not save my name from indelible disgrace, -nor my partners and the Mitchells likewise from ruin!”--Speechless -with horror and amazement, the young girl gazed fixedly on her father -as he spoke.--“But there are still means of saving me and the others -also,” he resumed, in a tone so broken that it indicated how difficult -and how painful it was for him to give utterance to this prelude to -an announcement which he knew must prove terrible indeed.--“And those -means?” demanded Ellen, recovering the use of her own voice: for she -saw that there was allusion to herself in her father’s words.--“Nerve -yourself, my poor girl, to hear something very shocking to your gentle -heart,” said Mr. Pomfret.--“I am nerved _now_,” she replied, her -features assuming the settled aspect of despair. “But the means?” she -repeated, more impatiently.--“That you renounce Leonard Mitchell, and -accept Mr. Gamble as your husband,” said the wretched father, speaking -with averted head. A shriek escaped Ellen’s lips--and she started -wildly from her seat: then, staggering forward a few paces, she fell -into her parent’s arms--not insensible, but sobbing convulsively. She -had been prepared for some dreadful tidings: she was not, however, -nerved to meet such a frightful destiny as that so suddenly offered to -her contemplation;--and she felt as if she must sink under the blow. -Mr. Pomfret bore her to the sofa; and, placing himself by her side, -said all he could to console her:--no--not all he _could_--but all he -_dared_;--for he had not courage enough to recall the words that had -sealed her fate! - -We must, however, draw a veil over this afflicting scene. Suffice it -to say that the noble-minded girl eventually came to the determination -to sacrifice herself for the sake of her father--yes, and for the sake -of the palsied parent of her lover also! There is a crisis in misery -that is in reality despair, although it may have the outward appearance -of resignation: and this was the condition of the young lady, when -she said to her father, “I will not prove a disobedient daughter. I -therefore consent to renounce Leonard Mitchell, and to become the wife -of him who demands my hand as the price of the succour which he is -willing to afford you in this embarrassment.” Mr. Pomfret embraced her -with the most unfeigned ardour, and thanked her in the most touching -terms for her devotedness; and, strange as it may perhaps appear, Ellen -besought him that the sacrifice should be accomplished as speedily as -possible. This is, however, invariably the case with a noble heart that -resolves upon the immolation of its best affections: the maiden feared -lest selfish considerations should arise from delay, to turn her from -her purpose;--and she was anxious that her self-martyrdom should be -performed heroically and with a good grace. But, oh! in one short hour -how changed was her pure soul: how bitter--how intense was now the -disappointment that succeeded the golden dream she had cherished;--how -stern, and bleak, and cheerless seemed that world on which she had -lately looked as on a fair and sunny landscape, fragrant with flowers -and beautiful with verdure. Yes--gloomy indeed is the earth, and -worthless is existence, when viewed through the same mirror which -reflects the heart’s ruined hopes and blighted affections! - -But who was to break the news to Leonard Mitchell? Ellen was not equal -to that task: indeed, she dared not see him. She felt that if she -were to gaze again upon his handsome countenance--if she were to read -despair in his eloquent eyes and listen to the passionate accents of -his melodious though manly voice, appealing to her against the stern -resolve to which circumstances had impelled her,--she felt, we say, -that she should yield, and that by so yielding she should fix her -parent’s doom. Mr. Pomfret therefore took upon himself the mournful -task of imparting to the young man the disappointment that awaited -him; and this was done the morning after the incidents which we have -just described. The merchant threw himself upon Leonard’s mercy, -invoking him by all he deemed sacred not to seek to see his daughter -nor dissuade her by letter from her holy purpose of self-devotion. At -first the impetuosity of youth rendered the lover deaf to all reason -and to all entreaties: but by degrees he appeared to receive a kind of -chivalrous inspiration from the heroic example of her whom he adored; -and he awoke to the necessity of consenting to that dreadful sacrifice, -if only that his sire should not want bread in his helpless old age. He -however begged that Mr. Mitchell might be kept in the dark relative to -all these occurrences, until Ellen should have become the wife of Mr. -Gamble--when it would be too late to recall the sacrifice, and useless -to repine against it. Moreover, Leonard resolved to break the news so -gradiently to his father, that the effect of the blow occasioned by a -son’s deep disappointment might be as much mitigated as possible; and -to these proposals Mr. Pomfret was only too willing to assent. And now, -as another proof of Leonard’s devotedness to his afflicted sire, must -be mentioned the fact that, though bearing in his bosom a heart wrung -almost to breaking, he still maintained a calm exterior; and during -the week which elapsed ere Ellen became the wife of Mr. Gamble, Mr. -Mitchell beheld nothing strange nor suspicious in his son’s manner. - -And at the expiration of that week, the sacrifice was consummated. -The marriage was solemnised by special license, and with great -privacy; and it was not known in Stamford-street until a late hour -on the wedding-day that such an extraordinary alliance had taken -place. By that time the victim-bride was far away from London--seated -by the side of her old husband in the post-chaise that was bearing -them to some country-place where they were to pass the honeymoon. -Mr. Pomfret had received the price stipulated for his daughter; and -his honour--his commercial honour, we mean--was saved! Alas! how -many marriages of this unnatural kind are constantly taking place -in this civilised--this enlightened--this Bible-reading--this moral -country!--how many fair young maidens are purchased by old men’s gold, -the performance of the religious ceremony only adding a hideous mockery -to a flagrant injustice! And yet how shocked are those mercenary -fathers and match-making mothers who thus sacrifice their daughters’ -pure affections to the most selfish interests--how shocked, we say, are -they when they read that there are countries in the world where men -buy their wives outright! Oh! ye Exeter Hall Saints, who send forth -missionaries to christianise the heathen amongst whom such barter or -purchase prevails, have ye nothing to reform at home? Is the Mussulman -who buys his Circassian or his Georgian wife in a slave-market more -reprehensible than the tottering old lord or the nabob with his liver -eaten away, who purchases an English, a Scotch, or an Irish beauty in -the market of West End Fashion? Go, ye Exeter Hall Saints, into that -sphere where all is glitter outside and hollowness of heart within, and -count the many titled or wealthy septuagenaries to whose corpse-like -side fresh and blooming girls of nineteen and twenty are bound by -marriage-ties! Are such alliances founded upon those holy affections -which God has implanted in the human breast?--or are they proofs of -the rebellion which selfish interests consummate against nature’s laws -and heaven’s own divine promptings? But if we direct our attention to -that sphere wherein the industrious millions struggle with starvation, -oppression, and wrong, do we find such instances of outrage against -all that is natural, moral, and just? Do we discover the agricultural -labourer or the mechanic of seventy with a wife of nineteen? Out of -a hundred marriages in humble life, there is not more than one such -case. And yet the aristocratic, the wealthy, and the great are ever -declaiming upon the immorality of the poor! Immorality indeed! ’Tis -you, ye aristocrats, who are in reality demoralised: ’tis you, ye -oppressors, who would stand a far better chance of winning a place in -heaven, were ye to imitate the humble virtues of the oppressed! Oh! the -soul sickens at the idea that a lazy, insolent, intolerant oligarchy -should be permitted to heap so much abuse upon the toiling, starving, -deeply-wronged millions! - -But to return to the thread of our narrative. It was in the evening -of the day on which Ellen became the wife of Mr. Gamble, that Mr. -Mitchell was seated at the open window of his front parlour, a -wire-blind enabling him to note all that passed in the street, but -preventing persons outside from seeing into the room. Leonard was -sitting near him, and racking his brain for the best means to commence -a conversation to which he might give such a turn as to enable him to -break the news of the day to his father. But every time the young man -prepared to speak, his heart’s emotions rose as if to suffocate him; -and at last he was obliged to hurry from the parlour and seek his own -chamber in order to give free vent to feelings that could no longer be -restrained. Scarcely had he left the room, when two gentlemen--dwellers -in Stamford Street--encountered each other precisely opposite the -Mitchells’ window; and after the usual greetings, one said: “I am just -going to call upon our mutual friend Mr. Pomfret, to congratulate -him.”--“Congratulate him!” exclaimed the other: “upon what event?”--“On -the marriage of his daughter with the wealthy Mr. Gamble,” was the -reply. “What! you have not heard of it? Oh! It is quite true, I can -assure you. The ceremony took place this morning: I have the fact -from the clergyman’s own lips.”--“But I thought that Miss Pomfret was -engaged to Leonard Mitchell?” observed the other gentleman, evidently -much amazed by the intelligence he had just received.--“Hush!” said -the first speaker, glancing significantly towards the open window; -and, taking his friend’s arm, he drew him a few paces farther on. But -had they stayed to enter into further explanations, it would have been -all the same: the conviction that his unhappy son had sustained a most -frightful blow to his happiness, burst upon the mind of the wretched -father like a tornado on a traveller in the desert; and when Leonard -returned to the room, he found the old man a corpse in his chair! - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXVIII. - -CONCLUSION OF THE HISTORY OF THE HAUNTED HOUSES. - - -Three years had elapsed since the occurrences just related; and it was -on a fine summer afternoon that a tall, handsome young soldier, in -the graceful undress of a private in a dragoon regiment, was walking -down Regent Street. His countenance was somewhat sunburnt; but there -was about him such an air of gentility that, even had he been far less -good-looking than he really was, it would have been impossible to pass -him by with indifference. His figure was slight, but admirably formed -and well knit: his legs were straight as a dart; and he carried his -arms with that gentle rounding which is so compatible with military -grace. His whiskers were small, but curling and glossy; and the slight -moustache that he wore was quite sufficient to turn the head of any -giddy girl--the more so that, as his lips were always kept the least -thing apart, that fringe set off his fine teeth to greater advantage. -His rich brown hair, worn short according to the regulation, stood -out in small but natural curls from beneath his undress cap; and -the somewhat darkly pencilled brows arched above eyes of deep blue, -and in which there was a melancholy expression that did not however -deteriorate from the masculine beauty of his person. His uniform was -scrupulously neat: his boots well polished; his buckskin gloves white -as snow;--and did he remove those gloves, his hands appeared to be -almost as delicate in complexion as a lady’s. In a word he was the very -_beau ideal_ of a soldier; and nature’s stamp of aristocracy was upon -him:--yet was he only a private--a humble private in his regiment! - -We said that the day was remarkably fine; and it was at that hour when -the fashionable world goes forth to while away the time until dinner. -Regent Street was thronged with gay equipages filled with elegantly -dressed ladies, and attended by domestics in gaudy liveries; and the -footways were likewise crowded, but with a mere miscellaneous company. -For when the daughters of fashion appear abroad in the afternoon, the -daughters of crime likewise come forth; and yet we doubt whether -the immorality that walks the pavement is so much greater than that -which rides in carriages as the world generally supposes. Behold that -magnificent equipage wherein the elderly dowager and the beauteous -young girl of seventeen or eighteen are seated: it stops at the door of -a fashionable linen-draper’s, and the dowager leans heavily on the arm -of the tall, handsome footman who hands her out, while the young lady -throws a rapid but significant glance at the slim, graceful page who -has likewise dismounted from behind the vehicle. Or again, behold that -gentleman on horseback, moving leisurely along, and gazing intently -at each carriage which approaches down the wide avenue: at length he -recognises the equipage which he is so anxiously expecting--and, riding -up, he exchanges a few words with the fair creature who is its sole -occupant. A day, an hour, and a place are named for an appointment of -even a far less innocent nature than this one; and the lover passes on -with triumph in his heart, while the carriage whirls away the titled -lady who has already assented to a step that must lead to the dishonour -of her husband. Again, behold the splendid chariot, with a coronet -on the panel, and in which three beauteous girls with their maternal -parent--herself a fine woman--are seated. Would you believe that care -was harboured in hearts where smiles appear on radiant countenances? -And yet, the eldest of those sisters is a prey to a mortal -apprehension: she has been frail--weak--the victim of her own strong -desires and the opportunity afforded by some handsome, but obscure and -ineligible lover; and now she dreads lest a few months should betray -her unchastity and ruin her for ever. But we have not leisure to extend -this picture:--we must return to the handsome dragoon who is walking, -in a leisurely but somewhat thoughtful manner, down Regent Street. - -[Illustration] - -And wherefore was he thus partially pensive? Because nearly three -years had elapsed since he had last seen London, and his return to the -capital revived a thousand reflections which were indeed sufficient to -touch his heart painfully. He thought of his early youth--the hopes -which he had cherished when the future was bright before him--the -crushing disappointments and accumulated miseries that had suddenly -fallen upon his head--and his present position, so different from what -it ought to be. Yes--and he thought, too, of _one_ whom he had loved so -fondly--oh! so fondly, that his passion was a worship--an idolatry, and -whose image was indelibly impressed upon his soul. Time had taught him -the necessity of resignation to a lot which he could not alter--a fate -which he could not change--a destiny which he could not subdue: and -though that same resignation, aided by the faith of a sincere Christian -and a firm reliance on Him who disposeth of all things, had deprived -his anguish of its sting and blunted the iron that had entered into -his soul--there were, nevertheless, moments when the cloud came over -the handsome countenance, and the soldier’s heart swelled almost to -bursting. And this was now the state of his mind as he passed along the -fashionable quarter of that metropolis where he had arrived with his -regiment only the evening before. He had no particular aim in view--he -was not on his way to see any friends: the only being on the face of -the earth in whom he felt interested, was she whom he had once loved so -devotedly--whom he still loved with the mellowed and almost embittered -affection of disappointment--and whom he dared not inquire after, much -less venture to visit. His return to the capital had unsettled him: he -felt no inclination to remain in the barracks and pursue his favourite -recreation of reading--and he had therefore walked abroad in the hope -of diverting his mind from the unpleasant thoughts that intruded upon -it. - -The handsome dragoon had just entered the arcade of the Quadrant, when -he was suddenly struck as if by paralysis--or as it were with a violent -blow dealt by an invisible hand: he stopped short--then staggered back -a few paces--and leant against one of the pillars for support,--his -countenance the while denoting the most intense emotions. For, -issuing from a shop, were two persons both of whom he instantaneously -recognised, but on one of whom his eyes became rivetted as if by -enchantment. Yes:--there was Ellen--the Ellen whom he had loved--whom -he still loved--leaning on the arm of her old husband--that man who -had robbed _him_--Leonard Mitchell--of the object of such a fervent -and undying affection! But neither the lady herself nor Mr. Gamble -observed the young soldier: for, on issuing from the shop, they passed -down the Quadrant; and thus their backs were almost immediately turned -upon him. Recovering his presence of mind, and passing his hand hastily -across his brow, as if to tear away a mist that hung upon his eyes, -Leonard Mitchell--for he indeed was the handsome young dragoon--was -already pushing his way amidst the crowd and hurrying after Ellen, -when the thought flashed, like blasting lightning, to his soul, that -she was an elegantly dressed lady, leaning on the arm of a husband who -was evidently a gentleman of substance--and _he_ was a common soldier! -Oh! never--never were the accursed class-distinctions of an artificial -state of society felt so bitterly as on the present occasion. Not that -Leonard mistrusted Ellen’s heart--not that he feared of experiencing -a cold reception from one of her generous nature: but a sense of -propriety--a deep conviction of what was due, under circumstances, to -herself and her husband, caused him suddenly to stop short;--then, in -obedience to the new impulse which was received from this revulsion of -his feelings, he turned abruptly from the Quadrant into one of those -streets that stretch towards the district of Golden Square. - -Walking on, like one intoxicated, and with eyes that saw nothing--as -if all the powers of vision, physical and mental, were absorbed in -the necessity of internal contemplation--the young man felt as if -he were going mad. There was a fearful hurry in his brain; and yet, -palpable and distinct, as it were, in his heart was the image that -for years had been there, but each feature--each lineament of which -had suddenly received the most vivid colourings of revival. She was -beautiful as ever--more beautiful, if possible, in the glory of her -womanhood; and, although her countenance was somewhat pale and had a -melancholy--yes, a very melancholy expression--this only added to her -charms, in his estimation, by rendering her the more interesting. By -degrees, his thoughts grew more settled--the whirlwind that raged in -his brain, abated in violence; and suddenly there sprang up in his soul -a feeling of pleasure at the idea that her features wore that shade of -mournfulness. For, oh! there could be no doubt as to the cause: she -was unhappy--unhappy on account of him! She had not, then, forgotten -him--she remembered their youthful loves: perhaps he was still dear to -her? That thought became more delightful, as it seemed more consistent -with probability; and now _he_ was not altogether so thoroughly devoid -of hope--so profoundly a prey to black despair, as he had been a few -minutes previously. Hope, indeed! what could he hope? He knew not--he -did not immediately pause to ask himself the question: but he abandoned -himself to the delicious reverie into which the altered current of -his thoughts thus madly hurried him. When he awoke, as it were, from -this day-dream, he was astonished to find that it had lasted so long, -and without interruption: for, while wrapped up in that vision, he -had threaded many streets--accomplished a considerable distance--and -was now close to the toll-gate of Waterloo Bridge. Entering upon that -mighty viaduct, he seated himself in one of the recesses, and again -gave way to the meditations which the incident of the afternoon had -conjured up. - -But how was it that Leonard Mitchell had taken the direction of -Waterloo Bridge, in that species of somnambulism under which he had -been labouring? Because it was the way to Stamford Street; and, in his -walking reverie, an irresistible impulse had influenced his footsteps, -even while he appeared to be proceeding at random. And what now was -the nature of his reflections? He experienced an ardent longing to -cross the bridge--to enter Stamford Street--and to behold once more the -house where all his early years were passed: yes--and to behold also -the dwelling of her whom he loved! But did he know that Mr. and Mrs. -Gamble still resided in Stamford Street? He was completely ignorant -on the subject; and an ardent curiosity impelled him to clear up the -point in question. Still he hesitated: amidst all the feelings by -which he was now animated, and the longings by which he was prompted, -a sense of duty rose up in his mind,--of duty towards her whom he -loved,--towards her husband--and towards himself. Why should he incur -the risk of meeting her, and perhaps unsettling her studied attempts at -unmixed devotion to him whose name she bore?--why should he do aught -that might arouse the suspicion or excite the jealousy of the old man -who doubtless treasured his young wife as a peerless jewel?--and why -should he resuscitate all his own griefs and sorrows, by an encounter -with one who was lost to him perhaps for ever? These questions did he -ask himself over and over again: they were the basis of the reasoning -which he held with his own heart--his own soul--in order to crush -the promptings that urged him towards the scene of past and happier -days. Alas! with all his natural rectitude of principle--with all his -generosity of disposition--with all his honourable feelings, Leonard -Mitchell was but a poor weak mortal, like the rest of us;--and while -still arguing with himself, he was traversing the bridge--he was -directing his way towards Stamford Street! - -As he drew nearer to the end of the long thoroughfare--that end which -joins the Blackfriars Road--he relaxed his speed; and though his pace -was slower, his heart beat more rapidly. At length he came within -sight of the three corner houses: he paused--he stopped--heaven alone -knows how acute were the emotions that agitated within him then! Again -he moved onward--he called all his courage, all his presence of mind -to his aid;--and now he passed by Mr. Gamble’s house. Irresistibly -he glanced towards the window: his eyes met those of Ellen;--and he -heard the faint scream of astonishment that burst from her lips! But -the beauteous countenance had disappeared: had she, then, fainted? -No--her feelings had doubtless overcome her for a few moments;--but -she speedily recovered--she reappeared at the window--and a rapid -sign conveyed to him the intimation that she would come forth and -join him presently. All this passed so quickly as to be unobserved by -any of the neighbours; although it is probable that had ten thousand -pairs of eyes been rivetted on the house, Ellen would have not acted -differently--for she saw no one save him of whom she had heard nothing -for three long years. Leonard, half intoxicated with joy at the signal -that had been made by her fair hand, and aided in its interpretation -by the expression of her countenance,--scarcely believing, however, -that such happiness could indeed await him--and not pausing for a -single instant to ask himself whether he were acting well or even -prudently--Leonard, we say, passed on. The central of the three houses -was still occupied by Mr. Pomfret; for his name was on the brass-plate -on the front-door:--but the corner house--the house where Leonard had -dwelt so many years, and where his revered father had died in so sudden -and awful a manner--was shut up, a board intimating that it was to let. -The young soldier had not, however, many minutes’ leisure to reflect -upon the scenes of past days; for, aware that Ellen could not prudently -join him within a few yards of her own door, he crossed the Blackfriars -Road, and loitered at the corner of Holland Street. In a short time he -beheld her approaching: she saw him--she followed the direction which -he took;--and he proceeded farther down the comparatively secluded -place which he had deemed most fitting for this interview. At length -he halted; and in another minute his heart’s idol was by his side. She -had purposely put on a cottage-bonnet and a plain shawl;--and thus the -few people who passed saw nothing very remarkable in a modestly dressed -female in company with a private dragoon. - -But even if they had attracted disagreeable notice, what was it to -them who had now no thought--no eyes--no ears save for each other? -Without a word at first--but after a brief though earnest pressure -of the hand--Leonard gave the young lady his arm; and they passed -along Holland Street. A few low, but anxious inquiries were rapidly -interchanged, and as speedily answered;--but frequent, long, and tender -were the looks they fixed upon each other. A few minutes’ walk brought -them to Southwark Bridge, to which they ascended; and when seated in -one of the recesses of that almost entirely deserted viaduct, the -restraint under which they had hitherto laboured was immediately thrown -aside. - -“At length we meet again, Ellen,” said Leonard, taking her hand and -retaining it in his own, while he gazed fondly upon her.--“Yes,” she -replied, murmuringly, and holding down her blushing countenance: -“but do you think the worse of me, because, yielding to a sudden and -irresistible impulse, and availing myself of my husband’s temporary -absence, I thus stole forth to meet you--to hear from your own lips -that you are happy?”--“Happy!” repeated Leonard, bitterly: then, -unwilling to cause her additional pain, for his ejaculation had -already brought the diamond-tears to her violet eyes, he said, “How -can I think the worse of you, Ellen, when you come forth as a sister -to pass a few minutes with a brother who can not, dares not visit you -at your own abode? But rather let me ask, whether _you_, Ellen, are -happy?”--The young lady endeavoured to give utterance to a reply: -but, overpowered by her emotions, she burst into an agony of weeping. -Unable to restrain his own feelings any longer, Leonard caught her -in his arms, strained her to his breast and imprinted a thousand -kisses upon her moist lips and her tear-bedewed cheeks: for no eye, -save that of God, beheld them at this moment. Several minutes passed -ere either could recover the faculty of speech; and then they spoke -so low--so feelingly--and in such accents of deep, deep sorrow, that -it was easy for each to perceive that the love of the other had not -become impaired by time, separation, or circumstances.--“You were -wrong, oh! you were very wrong, Leonard,” said Ellen, “to abandon your -home and your friends, the moment after your father’s funeral. It is -true that you did not leave us altogether in uncertainty and suspense -relative to your fate--that you left for me a note acquainting me -with your determination to enlist and earn your bread honourably! -But, oh! wherefore have adopted that distressing alternative?”--“Can -you not understand my feelings, Ellen?” asked the young man, almost -reproachfully. “My father’s death left me without interest to obtain -the situation that had been promised to me through him; and his income -likewise perished with him. I had no claim upon Mr. Pomfret: neither -would I have accepted eleemosynary assistance. What could I do? I -disposed of the furniture to pay off the few debts owing by my father -and the expenses of the funeral; and I made all my arrangements with as -much haste as possible, in order to be able to leave that once happy -neighbourhood before you and--and--your husband should return to it. -I then repaired to Hounslow, and enlisted. Yesterday my regiment was -ordered to London; and within a few hours of my arrival, I experience -the happiness--the indescribable happiness of thus encountering you. -And now, Ellen, let us think--or, at all events, let us talk no more -of the past. I cannot bear to look back upon it. But, my God!” he -exclaimed passionately, and suddenly interrupting himself: “wherefore -should I dread to retrospect, since the happiness of the present is -only transitory, and there is no hope for the future?”--Thus speaking, -the young man covered his face with his hands and moaned audibly. - -“Oh! this is dreadful!” exclaimed Ellen, with accents of despair. -“Leonard! I implore you not to give way to affliction thus. Listen -to me, my beloved one--for you are as dearly and as fondly loved -as ever; and I hesitate not to give you that assurance.”--“Oh! is -it possible? can I believe my ears?” cried the young dragoon, now -turning upon the lady a countenance suddenly lighting up with the -animation of indescribable joy and bliss, as the rays of the setting -sun played upon those handsome features. “But you forget,” he said, -after a brief pause, and with a cloud again appearing upon his face, -“that you are the wife of another?”--“Then it is you who love me not!” -exclaimed Ellen, in a tone of disappointment and reproach.--“Not love -you!” repeated Leonard: “Oh! how cruel of you thus to speak!”--and -again snatching her to his bosom, he covered her lips and cheeks with -kisses--kisses which she as fondly and as passionately returned. “Yes: -Ellen, you know that I love and adore you!” he added in a voice of the -tenderest sincerity.--“And I am not ashamed, Leonard, to give you a -reciprocal assurance,” said the young wife of another. “Oh! wherefore -should I attempt to restrain my natural feelings? Believe me that I -am much changed since last we met: I no longer see things in the same -light. For, to speak candidly, I have a deep conviction of the disgrace -of having been sold and bought for that dross which men so much prize. -I cannot help the thoughts that steal upon me; and therefore it is that -I have long ceased to look upon my father with respect. I feel that he -sacrificed me--me, his only daughter, whom he might have made so happy! -I feel also that he who is my husband hesitated not to immolate the -hopes of my youth to his own selfishness. These are sad--nay, terrible -thoughts, Leonard: but I again assure you that I cannot combat against -them. It is true that my father is now rich and prosperous, and that he -sometimes thanks me as the authoress of his fortunes: true also is it -that my husband treats me with the utmost kindness. But never--never -ought I to have been placed in the position to receive such thanks -from the one, nor such kindness from the other: for, between them, -they have wrecked my happiness, blighted my hopes, ruined all my -youthful dreams of felicity. There are times, then, when I feel as if -it would be a relief to fly from the neighbourhood of a father whom I -am almost compelled to look upon as an enemy, and from the arms of a -husband who is loathsome to me!”--As she uttered these last words, in -a low tone but with a bitter emphasis, Ellen bent her countenance--her -burning countenance--over her lover’s hand, which she pressed to her -lips.--“Then you would fly with me even now, dearest,” he said, in a -voice rendered tremulous by indescribable emotions, “did circumstances -permit me to accompany you?”--Ellen made no verbal answer; but the -rapturous manner in which she again pressed his hand to her rich, red -mouth was a sufficiently significant response--“Alas! that may not -be,” resumed Leonard mournfully; and now the young lady absolutely -shuddered in his arms, as if an ice-chill had suddenly fallen upon a -heart an instant before so warm with passion. “No--that may not be,” -continued Leonard, determined not to leave her in the least degree of -suspense. “Behold this uniform--a uniform which is accursed under all -circumstances, not only on account of the soul-crushing, merciless -discipline and degrading servitude of which it is the badge, but -also because it constitutes the barrier to the wishes which you so -generously intimated and which I so enthusiastically share.”--“But your -discharge can be purchased, can it not?” asked Ellen, bending down her -head to conceal her deep blushes.--“When I enlisted, Ellen,” solemnly -and mournfully replied Leonard, “I swore within myself an oath--an -oath ratified by all I deem sacred in heaven and by all my hopes of an -hereafter--to follow the course of this new destiny which I carved out -for myself, and, if possible, to rise to distinction in this service -which I dare not quit. I was young when I made that vow; and the hope -which dictated it never will be fulfilled;--for the English soldier is -a serf--a slave; and the idea of rising--ha! ha!”--and Leonard laughed -wildly. “At all events,” he added hastily, and again assuming a solemn -tone, “I respect the oath that I took; and you, who love me, will not -counsel me to break it. But we can see each other often, Ellen--we can -meet, as we have met to-night----.”--“Then with that assurance must -I content myself, Leonard!” interrupted the impassioned young lady, -in whom, as the reader may have surmised, the hand of affliction, the -tyranny of a parent, and the selfishness of the old man who bought her -with his gold, had deadened those delicate feelings and even undermined -the virtuous principles which had characterised her in her days of -happy innocence.--“Yes,” returned Leonard, “with that understanding -must we endeavour to console ourselves! And now, my beloved one, it is -time for me to leave you: remember,” he added bitterly, “that though a -man in years, I belong to a service where I am treated as a child and -limited to particular hours.”--“Would to God that you were emancipated -from this dreadful thraldom!” exclaimed Ellen, weeping.--“Nay, I was -wrong to say aught to afflict you,” returned Leonard, embracing her -tenderly. A few minutes more did they pass together, exchanging the -most passionate caresses and earnest protestations of unalterable -affection; and when they separated at last, it was not without having -arranged for another meeting at an early day. - -It would be scarcely possible to describe the feelings which animated -the young lovers as they respectively hastened to their abodes--the -one to his barracks, the other to her home. As we have before stated, -circumstances had so warped Ellen’s mind, that she paused not even -to reflect for an instant upon the dangerous course on which she had -entered: she had no longer any ties to bind her with filial love to -her father--and she never had any bond of affection to link her to -her husband. Therefore all she now thought of, or cared to think of, -was that she had recovered a lover whom she adored; and she would -have ridiculed and laughed at the idea of disgrace and of a ruined -reputation, had any friend counselled her in the matter. On his side, -Leonard was less hardened--for such indeed is the term which might -be applied to Ellen’s state of mind--to the consequences of this new -phase of his existence. He shuddered at the thought of inducing a young -wife to conduct herself in a manner so injurious to her husband’s -happiness; and he resolved, in his calmer moments, that when he met -Ellen again, according to the appointment already arranged, he would -represent to her the necessity of their eternal separation. But when -they did meet, and in a secluded place, she appeared so ravishingly -beautiful, and spoke with so much tenderness, and seemed so completely -happy in his society, and was withal so unfeignedly loving, that he -could not bring himself to give utterance to the words that trembled -upon his tongue--words that would have chased away those charming -smiles, dimmed with tears the lustre of those melting eyes, hushed with -sighs that language of fervid passion, and changed to dark despair -all that bright and glowing bliss. Therefore they separated a second -time with an arrangement to meet again:--and on the occasion of the -third interview Leonard found himself less disposed than before to -make a representation which would be fatal to the happiness of both. -To be brief, interview succeeded interview, Leonard resolving that -each one should be the last,--until at length love’s dalliance became -irresistible in its consequences; and, opportunity serving in all -respects, the lovers were criminal! From that day forth Leonard thought -no more of the impropriety of their meetings, which thereafter grew -more frequent and longer in duration. - -We shall here interrupt the thread of our narrative for a brief space, -in order to make a few observations upon the condition of the private -soldier. And, in the first instance, let us record our conviction that -there is not a more generous-hearted, a nobler-minded, or a more humane -set of men breathing than those who constitute the ranks of the British -Army; while there is not a more tyrannical, overbearing, illiberal, -and self-sufficient class than that composed of the officers of this -army. But how is the latter fact to be accounted for? Because the Army -is the mere plaything of the Aristocracy--a means of providing for the -younger sons of noblemen, and enabling titled mammas to show off their -striplings in red coats. What opinion can we have of the constitution -of the army, so far as the officers are concerned, when we find -Prince Albert suddenly created a Field-Marshal![18] Such a spectacle -is nauseating in the extreme; and the German must have execrably -bad taste, or else be endowed with inordinate conceit, to hold the -_baton_ of a Marshal when he has not even the military knowledge of -a drummer-boy. Since the Army is thus made a mere tool in the hands -of a rascally Aristocracy, what sympathy can possibly exist between -the officers and the men? The former look upon the latter as the scum -of the earth--mere slaves on a level with shoe-blacks; and hence the -barbarous cry of “Flog! flog! flog!” But there is no love lost between -the classes: for the soldiers hate and abhor their officers, whom they -naturally and most justly look upon as their tyrants and oppressors. -It is enough to make the blood boil with indignation to think that -those fine, stalwart, gallant fellows should be kicked about at the -caprice of a wretched ensign or contemptible cornet just loosened -from his mamma’s apron-strings,--or bullied by older officers whose -only “excellence” is their relationship to nobility, and their power -to obtain promotion _by purchase_. The generality of the officers in -the British Army are nothing more nor less than a set of purse-proud -bloodhounds, whose greatest delight is to behold the blood streaming -down the backs of those men who alone win their country’s battles. -When the Duke of York (who was a humane man, though as great a scamp -as ever had a COLUMN OF INFAMY erected to his memory) limited corporal -punishment to 300 lashes, the full amount was invariably inflicted -in nineteen out of twenty cases: but even this would not satisfy the -bloodhounds, who annoyed and pestered the Duke on the subject to such -an extent that he was literally bullied into empowering them to hold -General Regimental Courts-Martial, by whose decision 500 lashes might -be administered to the unhappy victim. For years and years was the -torture of military flogging in England a shame and a scandal to all -Europe; and it was absolutely necessary that a fine fellow should be -_murdered_ at Hounslow by the accursed lash, before the barbarous -Government would interfere. All the world knows that a BRITISH SOLDIER -_was murdered_ in this revolting manner, and in the presence of -his horror-stricken comrades: for be it remembered that when these -appalling spectacles take place, the eyes that weep and the hearts that -grow faint are those of the soldiers--never of the officers! - -Again we ask, then, what sympathy can possibly exist between the -privates and those in command? None: the soldiers would be more -grovelling than spaniels if they could possibly kiss the hands that -cuff them, or lick the shoes of those who kick and spurn them. The -British soldier has his feelings as well as others--aye, and his spirit -too; and he feels the iron of a cruel discipline and a heartless -system rankling in his very soul. The celebrated John Wilkes was wont -to say, “The very worst use you can put a man to, is to hang him.” We -agree with the _dictum_: but we aver in addition that it is an equally -vile use to flog him. In fact, the whole treatment of the soldier, -from the day of his enlistment until that of his discharge, is one -continuous system of tyranny. Deception is made use of to ensnare him -into the service--a crushing despotism is maintained to render him -a docile, pliant tool while he is in it--and the basest ingratitude -marks his departure from it, when he is turned adrift on the world -without a penny to help him. The infamy commences with the recruiting -sergeant--is perpetuated by all the officers--and is consummated by -the Government. Take the case of Leonard Mitchell, in respect to -enlistment. The young man was assured by the recruiting sergeant that -his pay would be a guinea a-week: it however turned out to be only -9_s._ 4_d._, from which 5_s._ 10_d._ were stopped for messing and -washing, 2_s._ 7½_d._ for clothes, and 3½_d._ for articles to clean -his uniform with--leaving 7_d._ per week, or _one penny a-day_, for -pocket-money! And this is the condition of a British dragoon--with less -pocket-money than a school-boy receives from his parents! - -The Government relies upon the fidelity of the Army from the fact that -it is officered by the scions of the aristocracy, who are of course -interested in upholding all kinds of abuses. Hence the belief which -the Government entertains that in case of a popular convulsion the -troops would be certain to fire upon the people. But, in spite of the -lordlings and aristocratic offshoots who command the army, we firmly -believe that it all depends upon the cause in which such popular -convulsion might arise, whether the troops would really massacre -their civilian-brethren. If it were a glorious and just struggle for -rights pertinaciously withheld and privileges doggedly refused, the -Army would _not_ act against the people. Even the Government itself -has fears on this head, ignorant though it be of the real state of -feeling anywhere save in the circles of the oligarchy;--for on a recent -occasion[19] when tremendous military preparations were made to resist -an expected outbreak of the working-men of London, the Government set -policemen in plain clothes to act as spies in respect to the private -soldiers. These spies threw themselves in the way of the soldiers, -enticed them into public-houses, plied them with drink, and, in an -apparently frank and off-hand manner, questioned them as to their -political opinions. Some of the gallant privates, thus treated and -interrogated, and little thinking that they were in the fangs of the -Government _mouchards_, candidly expressed their sympathy with the -popular cause, and as generously declared that they would sooner cut -their hands off than draw a trigger against the people--adding, “The -working-men and the soldiers are brethren.” What was the consequence? -The spies followed these brave and open-hearted men home to their -barracks, and laid information against them; so that numbers of British -soldiers, thus shamefully entrapped, found themselves suddenly placed -under arrest. Their commanding officers did not dare bring them to -punishment; but they are doubtless marked men, and will be persecuted -with all imaginable rancour and bitterness. To conclude this portion -of our observations, we must remark that if any disturbance had -really occurred on the great public occasion now especially alluded -to, the troops were resolved _not_ to fire upon the people; but they -were equally determined to avenge themselves most signally upon the -police.[20] - -The day has gone by for the British soldier to permit himself to be -made the tool of despotism: he will not be behind the French soldier in -noble sentiments, generous conduct, and enlightened feelings, any more -than he is inferior to him in bravery or discipline. But the British -soldier must have his wrongs boldly proclaimed and speedily redressed. -In many, if not in most regiments, the love of self-improvement is -looked upon by the officers as a crime; whereas reading should be -encouraged as much as possible. The barrack-room should be made more -comfortable: at present it is so miserable and cheerless, that the -private soldier is driven to the public-house in spite of his better -inclinations. In many instances, men have become drunkards from this -very fact, and are then entered in the Proscribed List; though all -this might be avoided, were they encouraged to remain and pass their -evenings at home. The food provided for the mess-tables is seldom of a -good description, and frequently of the very worst: the meat especially -is too often of the vilest kind, and unfit for human food. Yet the -poor soldier dares not complain--no, not even in respect to that for -the supply of which he is so heavily mulcted out of his miserable -pittance. Drunkenness even every now and then is a heinous crime in -respect to the private soldier; whereas the veriest stripling that was -ever dubbed ensign or cornet, may get as tipsy as an owl every night -of his life with utter impunity. In fine, the condition of the British -soldier is wretched in the extreme; and while the officer, who _buys_ -his rank, enjoys every privilege and riots in luxury and dissipation, -the unfortunate private, who is basely inveigled into the service by a -damnable fraud, is persecuted for the slightest offence, and treated on -all occasions as a mere dog. - -And now to return to our narrative. Six months elapsed; and during -that period Leonard and Ellen met as often as the duties of the -former would permit, while the latter cared not to what extent her -husband’s suspicions were aroused by her frequent and unaccountable -absences from home. And that the old man did speedily entertain the -most heart-rending suspicions, was a fact: but if he questioned his -wife, she either took refuge in a stubborn silence, or answered him -in a manner that only provoked him the more. Pride prevented him from -complaining to her father; and he felt that he was now righteously -punished for his selfishness in sacrificing the happiness of the fair -young creature to his own desires. At length, unable any longer to -endure the tortures of uncertainty, and anxious to know the worst at -once, or else acquire the conviction that he had misjudged his wife -altogether, he watched her movements: but she, aware of his proceeding, -and without affecting to notice it, adopted such precautions as -completely to outwit her husband, and to hold meetings with her lover, -undiscovered as before. Up to this period--nearly three years and a -half--the young man had conducted himself in his regiment with the -utmost steadiness: he had never been reported--never incurred the -slightest reprimand from his superiors. This was an extraordinary -case, inasmuch as the private soldier has so many persons to please: -first, the corporal--then the serjeant--then the serjeant-major--then -the subaltern of the troop--next the captain--and lastly the -commanding-officer. No--not _lastly_: for he must likewise please the -Regimental Serjeant-Major, the Adjutant, and the Riding Master. Well, -all these difficult objects had Leonard accomplished with success; and -he was likewise beloved by all his comrades. He was ever in barracks of -an evening at the proper hour; and during the first six months of his -amour with Ellen, not even her sweet society had caused him to be late. - -We must state that the more completely to enjoy the company of her -lover, Ellen Gamble had taken a furnished lodging in the neighbourhood -of his barracks; and there they were wont to meet. The landlady of the -place asked no questions, her rent being regularly paid, and so little -use being made of the apartments. It was Ellen’s delight to provide -succulent suppers for Leonard; and these he did not hesitate to partake -of with her: but as for direct pecuniary assistance--when once she had -offered it in as delicate a manner as possible, he refused it with so -much firmness and with such a glowing countenance that she did not -again allude to the subject. One evening,--it was at the expiration -of the six months already alluded to--the conversation had become -more than ordinarily interesting to the pair--the supper was later -than usual--and Ellen had ordered a bottle of champagne by way of an -additional treat. Leonard was remarkably temperate in his habits; and -the wine excited him considerably. He was not however tipsy--only very -much animated; and the time passed away more rapidly than the lovers -had imagined. At length, a neighbouring clock proclaimed the hour when -Leonard should be in quarters: and, starting up, he snatched a hasty -embrace, and hurried away. He reached the barracks ten minutes after -the proper time; and as he was traversing the yard, deeply regretting -that he should be even such a trifle too late, he met a young cornet -who had only joined the regiment six weeks previously. “Holloa, you -sir!” cried Lord Satinet; for such was the officer’s appellation: -“what the devil do you mean by coming in at this hour?”--Leonard, -perceiving that his lordship was so tipsy as to be scarcely able to -stand, endeavoured to get away without making any answer.--“Stop there, -damn your eyes!” exclaimed the nobleman. “What’s your number? Oh! B -57. Very well. But, damn your eyes!” repeated his lordship; “you’re -drunk--as drunk as a beast, I declare.”--“I am not, my lord!” cried -Leonard, indignantly: and again he made for the door leading to his -quarters.--“You infernal scoundrel!” vociferated the splendid specimen -of aristocracy, flying into a furious passion: “how dare you tell me -you are not drunk? Why, curse you, you can hardly stand.” It was his -lordship, however, who staggered.--“I am sober, my lord,” responded -Leonard, still keeping his temper: “and pray permit me to inform -your lordship that I _once_ was a gentleman, and that your lordship -might have a little more consideration for a person so unfortunately -circumstanced as I am!”--“A gentleman _once_!” repeated Lord Satinet, -with an ironical laugh: “a pretty gentleman, I’ll be bound! Your father -was a costermonger, I suppose; and your mother an apple-woman? A -gentleman, indeed! Why, damn your eyes, you’ll be telling me you were a -nobleman next. A gentleman, by the powers! a splendid gentleman! Of the -swell-mob, most likely.”--“Were I now as I was three years and a half -ago, my lord,” said Leonard, scarcely able to master his passion, “you -would not dare to address me thus.”--“Holloa! you threaten me, eh!” -cried Lord Satinet. “Come, sir: tramp off to the guard-room; and I’ll -teach you what it is to insult your officer, and be damned to you!” - -Poor Leonard was compelled to obey: but the mere circumstance of being -forced to restrain his boiling indignation, gave him such an excited -appearance, that when he arrived at the guard-room the Serjeant on -duty immediately accused him of having been drinking. Leonard scorned -to utter a falsehood; and he did not therefore deny the fact: but he -declared that he was not inebriated--a statement which was treated with -ridicule. To be brief, he was kept in custody for three days, at the -expiration of which a court-martial assembled to try him. Lord Satinet -made out the case as black as possible against the unfortunate young -man, who in his defence most unwisely but very truly averred that his -lordship himself was excessively tipsy on the occasion referred to. The -nobleman denied the statement with much apparent indignation; and the -judge-advocate declared that Leonard Mitchell had materially aggravated -his own enormity by such an accusation--although the very officer who -thus fulfilled the judicial functions could of himself have proved, had -he chosen, that Lord Satinet _was_ particularly disguised in liquor on -the night in question. The result of that hideous mockery of a trial -was that the accused was pronounced _guilty_ of returning home late -in a condition of extreme intoxication, and of grossly insulting and -even menacing his officer. Leonard Mitchell was accordingly condemned -to receive three hundred lashes with the cat-o’nine-tails: he was then -removed to the black hole, where he passed a night scarcely enviable -even by a man about to suffer the extreme penalty of the law. For, oh! -how could he ever again look the world in the face?--how should he -dare meet his much-loved Ellen? how survive this deep disgrace--this -flagrant shame--this damning infamy? But we dare not pause to analyse -the thoughts or describe the feelings of the wretched young man during -the interval between his condemnation and the execution of the sentence. - -The fatal moment arrived when the gallant British soldier, stripped -naked to the waist, was tied up to receive the torture of the lash, -in the presence of the entire regiment, which was marshalled for -the purpose. Leonard’s face was ashy pale--but the compressed lip, -sternly-fixed eye, and determined expression of countenance indicated -his resolution to meet the horrible punishment with as much courage as -he could invoke to his aid. On many an eye-lash in the ranks did the -tear of sympathy--aye, of deep, deep commiseration tremble: but the -officers looked on, the elder ones without emotion--the younger with -curiosity, but with no better feeling. As for Cornet Lord Satinet--he -could scarcely conceal his delight at the inhuman spectacle which he -himself had caused to be enacted; and he thought what a “lion of the -party” he should prove in the evening at his father’s house, when -detailing to his noble mamma and his dear sisters the particulars of -the military flogging of the morning. But, hark! the drums beat--and -the accursed torture commences!--the first blow is inflicted--and nine -long livid marks appear upon the back of the victim. Still he winces -not--and not a murmur escapes his lips. Again does the lash fall--and -of a livelier red are the traces it leaves behind. A third time the -instrument of torture descends--and now blood is drawn. But still the -young man is silent--although his well-knit frame moves with a slight -convulsiveness. A shudder--passing throughout the long ranks like an -electric shock, from flank to flank--denotes the horror--the profound, -intense horror, which strikes to the hearts of the brave dragoons -who behold the appalling laceration of their comrade. And now faster -falls each murderous weapon--for there are two executioners employed -at the same time: and when they have dealt a certain number of blows, -they are relieved by others, so that the victim may gain nothing by -the slightest weariness of arm on the part of his torturers. Still he -maintains a profound silence: but he cannot prevent his countenance -from expressing a keen sense of the mortal agony that he endures. -Down--down comes the horrible weapon, each stroke inflicting _nine_ -distinct blows; and, while the blood streams forth in many crimson -rivulets, the knotted cords carry away pieces of the palpitating -flesh. Oh! that such infernal cruelty should be perpetrated in a -country vaunted as the chosen land of freedom, and peopled by beings -who boast their humanity!--Oh! that such a blood-thirsty torture should -be sanctioned by the laws of a nation paying upwards of ten millions -a-year for the maintenance of the ministers of Christ! Gracious God! -do thy thunders sleep when a creature fashioned after thine own image -is thus enduring the torments of the damned,--torments inflicted -not in a paroxysm of rage, and by the hand of a savage individual -vengeance,--but in cold blood, in unprovoked mercilessness, and under -colour of a sanguinary law which would disgrace a community of savages! -People of England! let us blush--let us hang down our heads for very -shame when we reflect that such appalling scenes are enacted amongst -us; or rather let us gnash our teeth with rage--and tear our hair--and -beat our breasts, to think that we are unable to compel our legislators -to receive even a scintillation of that humane spirit which animates -ourselves. For we have a Society to prevent cruelty to animals--and -the man who beats his ox or his ass too severely, is punished; and -if a poor man only happens to jostle against a police-officer, it -is construed into _a savage assault_ and attended with penalties. -But there is no Society to prevent cruelty to human beings; and the -lash--the accursed lash may be used, until the blood flows down the -back--the skin is flayed away--deep wails are made in the quivering -form--morsels of palpitating flesh are torn off--and the muscles are -laid bare,--oh! all this may be done--all these revolting atrocities -may be perpetrated--all these hellish cruelties may be accomplished, -and there is no Association patronised by Royal Highnesses, Bishops, -and Noble Lords, to interfere in behalf of the victims nor to punish -the offenders! - -Leonard Mitchell bore his murderous punishment as bravely as man could -endure such fiendish torture. A hundred and fifty lashes had been -inflicted, without eliciting a moan from his lips: but his countenance -betrayed all the intensity of the anguish which he suffered. His eyes -lost their lustre--his under-jaw fell slightly--there was foam upon -his mouth--and his tongue protruded somewhat. As for his back----But, -perdition seize upon the blood-hounds! the indignation which we feel -at this moment will not allow us to extend _that_ portion of the -painful description. Better--oh! better far to be the vilest beggar -that ever grovelled in the mire, than one of those Greenacres of the -House of Commons who advocate corporal punishment, or those Barkers -of colonels who delight in having it inflicted! As for poor Leonard -Mitchell, he received upwards of two hundred lashes without a murmur; -and then the surgeon ordered a pause. Drink was given to him--and he -revived. But was he then removed? Oh! no--no: the feast of blood was -not accomplished--the cup of gore was not full enough--the sum of human -tortures was not finished. Again fell the accursed weapon: and now--we -know not whether it were that after a brief cessation the agony of the -renewal was more intense than before--or that the interval of rest had -allowed the fine spirit of the man to flag,--whatever were the cause, -it is nevertheless a fact that a piercing shriek of anguish burst from -his lips--a shriek so strange, so wild, and so unnatural, that long, -long after did it ring in the ears of those who heard it; for it seemed -to lacerate the very brain as, in its horrible inflections, the rending -sound was sent back from the barrack walls in penetrating echoes and -frightful reverberations. A thrill of horror electrified the startled -ranks of the victim’s comrades; and the gloved hand of many a brave -soldier was drawn rapidly across the countenance, to dash away the -tears that trembled on the quivering eye-lids. For, oh! the British -warrior may indeed well weep at such a scene,--weep--weep with mingled -shame and sorrow--weep, too, with bitterness and indignation! - -The punishment was over: soon as that piercing scream had died away, -the prisoner fainted;--and he was forthwith hurried to the infirmary, -where many hours elapsed ere he came to his senses. Then he awoke -to consciousness amidst the most horrible tortures: for the means -that were adopted to prevent his lacerated back from mortifying, -inflicted the agonies of hell. Only fancy, Christian reader--a man -in this country can be beaten into such a state that it is ten to -one whether he will not die of his wounds, and all the surgeon’s art -can with difficulty resuscitate him! But pass we over the lingering -illness endured by the unhappy Leonard---an illness of eight long -weeks; and let us see whether the tortures of the lash have made him -a better man. Alas! far from it! His fine spirit was broken: he saw -that it was useless to endeavour to be good--that it was ridiculous to -practise virtues which experienced no reward. His religious faith was -shaken--nay, almost completely destroyed; and he no longer believed in -the efficacy of prayer. Instead of harbouring feelings of a generous -philanthropy, he began to loathe and detest his superiors and look with -suspicion on his equals. A doggedness of disposition, a recklessness -of character, a species of indifference as to what might become of -him, displaced all those fine qualities and noble attributes that had -previously graced him. For he felt that he was a marked man in his -regiment, and never could hope for promotion--that his character was -gone--and that, like Cain, he bore about him the brand of indelible -infamy. Moreover, he longed for vengeance--bitter, bitter vengeance -upon that young scion of the aristocracy who had lied against him--lied -foully as only such a wretch could lie--and who had brought down all -that disgrace on his devoted head. - -In such a frame of mind was it that Leonard Mitchell met Ellen for -the first time after a separation of nearly ten weeks. The young lady -had learnt the misfortunes which had befallen her lover; and she was -prepared, by an intimate knowledge of his character, to hear that he -had been accused as unjustly as he had been punished savagely. She -endeavoured to console him: but he assured her broadly and frankly -that the only solace he could ever know was--_vengeance_! Ellen did -not discourage this idea--did not rebuke this craving; for she also -felt bitterly--bitterly against the despicable lordling who had -persecuted him so foully. It was, nevertheless, with sorrow that she -soon observed the alteration which had taken place in his disposition. -He was still devoted to her: but his passion now partook rather of -a gross sensuality than, of the refinement of love. How could it be -otherwise? The best feelings of the man were blunted; and his brute -impulses, unchecked by that delicacy of sentiment which had once so -peculiarly characterised him, became the more violent. Especially did -he soon manifest a loving for intoxicating liquors; and at the third -or fourth interview with Ellen, after his release from the hospital, -he suffered her to understand pretty plainly that he should no longer -refuse pecuniary assistance at her hands. In the course of a few weeks -he spoke out more plainly still, and unblushingly asked for the amount -he required at the time; and ere many months had passed away, he never -parted from her without receiving a portion of the contents of her -purse. At first she herself was much shocked at this evidence of an -altered disposition: but she was so deeply--so devotedly attached to -him, that she reasoned herself into consolation even on that head; and -the more selfish he became, the more anxious did she appear to minister -to his wants. This was not all: for frequent intoxication irritated -his temper--and he did not hesitate to vent his ill humour upon her. -Sometimes, too, he failed to keep his appointments with her: and when -they did meet at last, he abused her if she dared to reproach him. On -one occasion he actually raised his hand to strike her; but the poor, -loving creature, falling on her knees at his feet, turned up towards -him a countenance so tearful and woe-begone, that the coward blow was -stayed, and he implored her pardon. Nevertheless, she had received a -shock which she could not forget: neither could she avoid contrasting -the Leonard Mitchell whom military punishment had degraded to the same -level as the brutes, with the Leonard Mitchell who formerly appeared -the very type of a gallant, generous-hearted, and high-minded British -Dragoon! - -[Illustration] - -But Leonard Mitchell must not be blamed if his manners and habits -were thus changed, and if he took inveterately to drinking. He was -one of those whom bad laws had forced into evil courses; and if he -flew to the intoxicating glass, it was because the alcoholic liquor -contained the hours of oblivion. Persecuted as he had been--degraded as -he felt himself, existence had become intolerable unless he lost the -consciousness of at least a portion of it. His comrades noticed the -alteration which had taken place in him, and they well understood the -cause: for it had been the same with every one who had ever undergone -the torture and the disgrace of the lash. In his sober hours Leonard -experienced no remorse--no compunction for the ways which he was -pursuing: he had grown dogged--morose--indifferent;--no--not altogether -indifferent,--for he cherished--dearly, deeply cherished a scheme of -vengeance. And the day and the hour for carrying it into execution -arrived at last. - -It was, indeed, on the anniversary of the memorable morning of his -degrading punishment, that a grand review took place in Hyde Park. -Certain German pauper Princes were on a visit to this country,--princes -who received annual incomes from the English Treasury, heaven only -knows for what services performed--and whose very travelling expenses -to and from the Court of St. James’s were duly paid from the public -purse;--for those contemptible petty sovereigns of Germany are as -mean as they are poor, and as proud as they are both mean and poor! -Well, it was on the occasion of the presence of two or three of those -princely beggars in the British metropolis, that the grand review -took place. All the troops quartered in or near London were marched -shortly after ten o’clock in the morning to Hyde Park; and as the day -was remarkably fine, the spectacle was brilliant and imposing. The -Duke of Wellington, the German Princes, and several General-officers, -attended by a numerous staff, shortly afterwards appeared upon the -ground: and the road was thronged with spectators. The review commenced -in the usual manner: the entire force, infantry and cavalry, was -drawn up to receive the Duke, the Princes, and their companions;--and -after the inspection and the “marching past,” various evolutions and -manœuvres were practised. A sham fight was then ordered; and the troops -were accordingly separated for the purpose into two divisions. The -appearance of the dragoon regiment in which Leonard Mitchell served -attracted general notice, not only on account of the reputation it had -acquired of containing some of the finest men in the British army, but -likewise in consequence of its discipline and its perfection in the -evolutions already practised. But had some searching eye scanned each -individual countenance, there was _one_ in that regiment which would -have rivetted the gaze: for, though strikingly handsome, there was then -upon that countenance an expression of fiend-like satisfaction and -sardonic triumph--and the portentous gaze, the curling lip, and the -dilation of the nostrils on the part of the dragoon thus alluded to, -would have convinced the observer that the man’s thoughts were intent -on some sinister design. - -And now the sham-fight commences;--and there is advancing and -retreating by turns--and there are echelons and deployings, and -other evolutions--until a general attack commences on the side of -the assailing party. The dragoons are armed with their carbines; and -Leonard Mitchell grasps his weapon with an ardour--an affection--a -species of gratitude, as if it were about to render him some signal -service. The order is given to fire; and the carbines vomit forth -volumes of white, vapoury smoke, which in a moment envelopes the entire -corps. But from the midst of the cloud a piercing scream--a scream of -mortal agony--breaks forth; and then, as the smoke moves slowly away on -the lazy wing of the partial breeze, ejaculations of horror and dismay -announce that some accident has occurred. All is now confusion; but -a report spreads through the dragoon regiment, and thence circulates -like wildfire amidst the troops and the spectators, that Lord Satinet -has been wounded in the sham-fight. And true enough was the rumour; -for there lay the young nobleman, fallen from his horse, and stretched -bleeding and gasping on the green sward! The surgeon hastily proceeded -to render all the assistance that human skill could administer: but the -aid was vain and useless--the victim was mortally wounded by a bullet -which had entered his back--and, without uttering an intelligible -word, he shortly expired in the surgeon’s arms. And now a sad and -heart-rending scene took place: for the parents and the sisters of the -murdered nobleman were upon the ground--and they hastened to the spot, -guided by the common rumour which had appalled them, but which they -hoped to find incorrect, or at all events fearfully exaggerated. They -discovered, however, that it was, alas! too true; and the gala day was -turned into one of bitter mourning for them. The review was broken -up--and the troops were marched away to their respective barracks; -while the spectators crowded to behold the sad procession that bore the -corpse of the young noble to the family mansion in the neighbourhood. - -During the return of the dragoon regiment to its quarters, those of -Leonard’s comrades who were near him frequently bent suspicious and -enquiring glances upon him: but his countenance afforded no indication -of guilt. He neither appeared triumphant nor downcast--neither nervous -nor afraid; and the soldiers who thus beheld his calm and tranquil -demeanour, were shaken in the idea which they had formed in respect -to the authorship of the morning’s tragedy. The moment the dragoons -entered the barracks, every cartouche-box was examined; but in none was -found aught save blank cartridges. The suspicions of the officers had -naturally fallen upon Leonard Mitchell; and it was deemed necessary -to place him under arrest until the coroner should have instituted -the usual enquiry. But he energetically declared his innocence; and -those who were the most ready to suspect him, were staggered by the -sincerity which seemed to characterise his protestations, and by the -indignation which he manifested at the crime imputed to him. On the -ensuing day the inquest was held; and the result was favourable to -Mitchell. No particle of evidence appeared to tell against him, unless -indeed it were the fact that he had been flogged a year previously -through the instrumentality of the deceased nobleman. But none of -Leonard’s comrades who were examined, could aver that they had ever -heard him use a threatening expression in respect to Lord Satinet--no, -not even in his cups, when the truth is so likely to slip from a -man’s lips and the real state of his feelings to be proclaimed by -the tongue. That the nobleman’s death was the result of an accident, -was an alternative that could scarcely be adopted: for it was almost -impossible that a ball-cartridge could have been mistaken for a blank -one. Thus, though not a tittle of testimony could be brought against -Leonard Mitchell,--and though he was discharged from custody,--yet in -the minds of all the officers and of many of his comrades, there still -dwelt a suspicion with regard to him. An open verdict was returned -by the jury,--to the effect that “the deceased had met his death by -a ball discharged from a carbine, but whether by accident or guilty -intent, and by what hand, was unknown.” A few days afterwards the -remains of the young nobleman were consigned to the tomb; and the Tory -newspapers, in passing an eulogium upon his character, grouped together -such a variety of admirable qualities, that if he had only possessed -one-tenth of them, he must have been a phœnix of moral perfection and a -prodigy of intellectual power. - -The first meeting which took place between Leonard Mitchell and Ellen -after the tragedy just related, was of a painful description. Scarcely -were they alone together in the apartment which she had hired for -these guilty interviews, when, seizing him violently by the wrist, -and speaking in a low, thick tone--while her eyes looked fixedly and -searchingly into the depths of his own--she said, “Leonard, is it -possible that you have done this?”--“I told you that I would have -vengeance,” he replied, almost brutally, as he abruptly withdrew his -arm from her grasp; “and you have even encouraged me in the project. -Do you mean to reproach me now?”--“Oh! my God, it seems so horrible -to contemplate!” cried Ellen, sinking into a chair, and pressing her -hands to her throbbing brows: for, criminal--almost depraved, though -she were, yet she was not so hardened as to be able to stifle the still -small voice which whispered in her ears, “_Thou art the companion -of a murderer!_”--“Horrible to contemplate!” repeated Leonard, with -a brutal laugh. “You are a fool to talk in that style, Ellen. But -perhaps you will go and betray me next?”--“Good heavens! how have I -merited such treatment as this?” exclaimed the wretched woman, now -bursting into a flood of tears. “Have I not sacrificed everything for -you, Leonard?” she demanded, her voice broken with agonising sobs: -“and can you find it in your heart to insult me thus? Oh! consider -my position, and have mercy upon me! Tormented day and night by the -suspicions and the increasing ill-humour of a husband whom I loathe -and abhor--with the greatest difficulty avoiding the snares which he -sets to entrap me, and to acquire proof of that infidelity which he -even more than suspects and subjected latterly to the questions and -remonstrances of my father, who has at length obtained a knowledge of -my frequent and unaccounted-for absences from home,--think you not that -I am sufficiently unhappy, perplexed, and bewildered, without receiving -insult and injury from you?”--“Then why do you provoke me?” demanded -Leonard. “For a year past I have been constantly telling you that I -would have vengeance; and, as I said just now, you have encouraged me -in the idea. But now that it is consummated, and that my mortal enemy -sleeps in a premature grave, you affect horror and disgust.”--“Oh! -Leonard,” ejaculated Ellen, throwing herself at his feet, “pardon me, -and I will offend you no more! I am well aware that the provocation was -immense, and that there are circumstances in which human forbearance -knows no limit--can acknowledge no restraint. Such was your position; -and I was wrong to utter a word deprecatory of your conduct.”--“Well, -well,” said Leonard, raising the infatuated woman from her suppliant -posture, and placing her on the sofa by his side: “let us talk no more -of this little quarrel between us. For you must be aware that I should -have been worse than the spaniel which licks the hand that beats it, -if I had not avenged myself on that miscreant lordling, whom my hatred -accompanies even in his grave. And let me tell you, that in times of -war, many and many an officer is picked off by some soldier who has -felt the iron hand of despotism press upon him, or who has suffered -from the effects of individual persecution. It may be called _murder_, -if you choose: but I look upon it as a _righteous retribution_.”--Ellen -gazed in mingled astonishment and horror, and with a ghastly pallor -of countenance, upon her lover’s face, as he enunciated this dreadful -doctrine: then, perceiving that he was again about to become angry, she -hastened to caress him. He returned the amorous dalliance; but Ellen -could no longer abandon herself wholly and entirely to the delights of -illicit love. Though the course of life which she had for some time -adopted had rendered her insatiably sensual, she now experienced a -feeling of loathing and disgust when in contact with her lover. This -feeling she strove hard to conquer, by conjuring up all the voluptuous -ideas that had ever existed in her soul: but, in spite of this -straining against nature, a voice of blood seemed to ring in her ears, -warning her that she was in the arms of a murderer! She gazed upon his -handsome countenance, in the hope that its beauty would inspire her -with sentiments of a purer affection;--but his eyes appeared to beam -with fiendish triumph and demoniac malignity;--and if she pressed his -hand to her lips, it seemed as if she were kissing flesh stained with -human gore. - -Unable to endure these torturing feelings, she hastened to prepare -the supper-table, and bade him draw the cork of a champagne-bottle. -Full readily did he comply; and, having tossed off a bumper first, he -refilled the same glass, saying, “Now drink from this, to convince me -that you do not love me less on account of what has happened.”--The -lady took the glass and placed it to her lips: but the words he had -just uttered, recalled so vividly to her mind those images which -she had striven so forcibly to banish from her imagination, that an -invincible feeling of disgust came over her--a blood-mist appeared to -obscure her sight--and as she drank, it seemed as if a draught from a -sanguine tide were pouring down her throat. Nevertheless, she forced -herself to drain the glass; and as soon as the exciting liquor began -to circulate in her veins, these horrible images rapidly disappeared, -and she felt that she could now abandon herself to a voluptuousness -of soul unmarred by disgust or loathing. Ellen, therefore, as well as -Leonard, discovered that there were charms in the crystal cup filled -with sparkling wine; and she drank the exciting juice with the avidity -of one who knows full well its efficacy in banishing care. Leonard was -both surprised and rejoiced to behold the influence which the nectar -had upon her; and for a long time he had not appeared so tender and -affectionate as he was during the latter part of this interview. - -And what was the consequence of that evening’s incidents? That Ellen -took a liking to alcoholic liquor. She had discovered therein a panacea -for disagreeable thoughts; and her reflections in serious moments -were by no means of a pleasurable nature. Thus was it that she, who -was lately so abstemious as scarcely to touch a drop of wine even -after dinner, and who had so deeply deplored the weakness of Leonard -in yielding to the insidious temptations of strong drink,--thus was -it that she, the elegant and lovely Ellen, gave way to that same -fascination, and sought solace in the sparkling glass. At first she -touched no wine until the dinner-hour: but she soon found that all -the morning and afternoon she was a prey to low spirits, distressing -reflections, and feelings of mingled loathing and fondness in respect -to Leonard; and she therefore made the mid-day luncheon an excuse for -taking her first glass. At dinner-time she would freely partake of -her two or three glasses;--and on those evenings when she met Leonard, -she indulged readily in the liquor provided for the supper-table. But -as the habit rapidly gained upon the unfortunate young woman, she -soon began to tipple slily at home; and, even before breakfast, she -eventually found herself compelled by great mental depression to imbibe -a dram. It was about this time that Mr. Gamble’s intellects, racked -and tortured for upwards of a year by the most harrowing suspicions -and by the total estrangement of his wife’s affections and even -attentions, began to give way; and he would sit for hours together -in his chair, with his eyes fixed upon vacancy. It was also at the -same epoch that a turn once more manifested itself in Mr. Pomfret’s -affairs; and, a colossal speculation failing, he was again plunged -into deep embarrassments. Further assistance from his son-in-law was -out of the question; and Mr. Pomfret accordingly devoted all his -energies to sustain the credit of his house in the hope that he might -yet retrieve himself, or in any case postpone the catastrophe for as -long a period as possible. Thus the condition of her husband and the -constant application of her father to his business left Ellen almost -totally free from any supervision; and she was enabled to indulge at -will in the fatal habit that was gaining so rapidly upon her. Leonard -did not fail to notice this growing attachment to liquor on her part; -and he rather encouraged it than otherwise--for he himself had become -utterly depraved and reckless, and when his mistress was in a maudlin -condition of semi-ebriety, she cheerfully parted with all the contents -of her purse. The increasing childishness of her husband gave her a -greater command over his finances; and she was therefore the better -able to supply her lover’s extravagances. At length she acquired the -certainty that Leonard was unfaithful to her; and a desperate quarrel -was the consequence. Nor was the dispute confined to mere words; for -the young man beat her unmercifully--and she, half intoxicated at the -time, retaliated to the best of her ability. The scene was shocking and -disgusting; and when Ellen awoke next morning, and reflected upon all -that had occurred on the preceding evening, she wept bitter--bitter -tears, as she compared the guilty present with the innocent past. Then -she vowed to abstain from liquor in future, and to see Leonard Mitchell -no more; and, temporarily strong in this resolution, she sent him a -note communicating her design. Moreover, under the influence of the -better feelings that were thus awakening within her soul, her heart -smote her for her conduct towards her husband, who was daily becoming -more dependant upon her kindness, and whom she had long neglected -altogether. She even felt happy when she pondered upon her newly-formed -determination to resume a steady course of life;--but all her salutary -schemes and hopes were annihilated in the afternoon of that same day, -by the arrival of a letter from Mitchell, threatening to murder her and -kill himself afterwards unless she repaired in the evening to the usual -place of meeting. - -Over that letter Ellen wept scalding tears--for she knew that if she -yielded _now_, her fate was sealed: ruin, degradation, and disgrace -must inevitably await her! She saw herself again entering upon the path -which would lead her to the condition of a confirmed drunkard; and the -awful menaces contained in the missive, filled her with presentiments -that even her death might be premature and violent. Nevertheless, she -had not the moral courage to resist the temptation of meeting her -lover; and she consoled herself--or rather, she endeavoured to quiet -her qualms of conscience and her presaging fears--by saying, “It shall -be for the last time!” To the place of appointment she accordingly -went; and Leonard Mitchell, who feared to lose a mistress possessed of -such ample means to minister to his extravagances, played the hypocrite -so admirably that Ellen--infatuated creature that she was!--believed in -the sincerity of his protestations of undivided love for the future, -and his regrets for the past. The wine-bottle circulated freely; and -she forgot all her remorse--all her compunctions--all her resolves -of reformation. She even went so far as to revive the proposal of -purchasing Leonard’s discharge; but to this he positively refused to -accede. He quoted his oath as a reason: it was not however the correct -one--for even that solemn vow had long ceased to have any influence -upon his depraved and hardened mind. The truth was that he had become -a confirmed voluptuary in respect to women; and he found that his -uniform was an immense auxiliary towards success with the frivolous -and giddy of the sex: moreover, he knew that were he released from the -ranks, he should become completely tacked to the apron-strings of his -mistress; and, as she held the purse, he would not in that case be able -to exercise his independence. It therefore suited him better to remain -in the army; and Ellen was foolish--infatuated enough to believe in the -validity and genuineness of the motive which he alleged for declining -her proposal. She accordingly forbore from pressing it; and the -remainder of that evening was spent in voluptuous enjoyment--sensuality -and champagne constituting the elements of that guilty pair’s -unhallowed pleasures. - -Time passed on; and the position of the lovers--if such they could -now be called--became daily more unhappy in respect to each other. -Quarrels between them were of constant occurrence; and on each occasion -blows were exchanged. The affection of Ellen had changed into a gross -sensuality, having lost every particle of refining sentiment; and she -became jealous in the extreme, frequently giving way to such fits -of passion, when she reproached Leonard for his infidelities, that -it was impossible to recognise in the furious, rabid, half-drunken -demoness--the mild, amiable, and chaste young lady of former years. -She still retained her beauty to a marvellous degree, in spite of the -deep potations in which she indulged and the slovenliness that had -crept upon her in respect to dress; and, as she was frequently out in -the streets late of an evening, after her interviews with Leonard, -she was subjected to the licentious proposals of the “young men about -town” who are ever on the look-out for pretty women. The result was -that, although she yielded not to such temptations, her mind became -more thoroughly depraved, by being robbed of every chastening thought -and feminine reflection; for, when under the influence of liquor, -she would frequently converse with the rakes who accosted her in the -manner described. Leonard himself suddenly grew jealous; and, having -followed her one evening, he caught her in discourse with a young -gentleman whom she had encountered more than once during her walks -home. A dreadful scene ensued: and, though Leonard at length suffered -himself to be appeased, simply because afraid of losing one whose -purse was so convenient to him, he nevertheless entertained a firm but -erroneous conviction, of her infidelity. They therefore now harboured -mutual distrust, which on many occasions rose into absolute loathing. -Bad as Leonard was, and much as he had encouraged her in her drinking -habits, he was nevertheless often disgusted when he beheld her reeling -under the influence of liquor, and when he felt upon his face that -breath which, now heated with alcoholic fluid, was once so pure and -balmy. On her side, she could never divest herself of the remembrance -that she was consorting with a murderer; and frequently--oh! how -frequently, the blood-mist would reappear before her eyes, and the -liquor would seem gore in her glass, and sanguine stains would, in her -heated imagination, dye his hands! Thus wretchedly did their connexion -progress,--she still clinging to him through that infatuation which -often belongs to sensuality of soul--and he still tolerating her -because she possessed the means of supplying his pocket. - -At length matters had reached a crisis, at which the amour was destined -to have a most tragical termination. Ellen was returning home one -evening, smarting under some insult which her lover had put upon her, -and labouring as usual under the influence of wine, when she met the -young gentleman above alluded to. On this occasion his entreaties were -more urgent than ever; and she was more pliant than he had as yet found -her to be. Her blood was inflamed; and she was moreover in that humour -when to assert her independence of Leonard, even to herself, would -prove a solace and a comfort. She accordingly yielded to the proposals -of the stranger, and accompanied him to an improper house. It was -midnight when they issued forth; and Ellen hastened homeward, having -made an appointment for another evening. In the middle of Waterloo -Bridge she heard hasty steps approaching from behind: it was a clear, -moonlit night--and on turning her head, she beheld Leonard Mitchell -close at hand. A faintness came over her: she instantly suspected--nay, -felt certain that he had watched her;--and, trembling with terrible -apprehensions, she sank upon a seat in one of the recesses. In another -moment the young dragoon was by her side. For almost a minute he spoke -not; and this silence augmented her alarm. Raising her pale--her -haggard countenance, on which the moon-light streamed in all its chaste -and silvery purity, she endeavoured to frame some question that would -lead to an explanation of his presence there: but her lips refused -utterance to the words that rose to them. A mortal terror was upon -her--a consternation, as if she beheld the skeleton form of Death -hovering dimly in the obscure distance. - -Taking her hand, and pressing it with convulsive violence, Leonard -said in a low and hollow tone, “Now, Ellen, I have at last obtained -ample proof of your infidelity.”--“Mercy! mercy!” murmured the young -woman, as gazing rapidly up and down the bridge, she saw that it was -completely deserted.--“Oh! I deserve it,” exclaimed Leonard, beating -his brow violently with his open palm: “I know that I deserve it all! -I have long entertained the suspicion that such was the case: but now -that I have acquired the conviction, it seems too dreadful to bear! -Again, however, I say that I deserve it: and yet, bad--vile--depraved -as I am, I feel as if my heart had received a mortal wound.”--“I take -Almighty God to witness, Leonard,” cried Ellen in an impassioned tone, -“that this is the first time I have been unfaithful to you. Your -conduct of the evening wounded me so deeply, that I longed to avenge -myself--longed also to assert my independence of you, even if only to -the knowledge of my own heart. By this I mean that I should have felt -triumphant in proving false to you, even though you yourself were to -remain ignorant of the proceeding. And now if you will pardon me, I -promise never to err again. But, O Leonard--Leonard, do treat me with -at least a little kindness!”--and as she uttered these words in a -tone of deep feeling and profound pathos, she flung herself upon his -breast, throwing her arms around his neck in a paroxysm of reviving -fondness. So touching was her appeal, that it instantly brought to -his soul an overwhelming cloud of reminiscences of all the harshness, -brutality, and cowardly cruelty of which he had been guilty towards -her,--reminiscences, too, of all her love for him--the sacrifices she -had made for him--the generosity of her behaviour in his behalf. He -recollected also--and all in a moment as it were--that if she were -degraded by drink, and defiled by the hot breath of licentiousness, -she was pure and chaste as a wife until he had sought her out on his -return to London,--that her fall, in fine, might be unmistakeably -traced to her fatal connexion with him. Then, too, he recalled to -mind his own condition when two years previously he had crossed that -bridge on his way to snatch a glimpse of the three houses in Stamford -Street,--a condition which, unenviable as he had then deemed it, was -one of supreme happiness compared with his present state. For the mark -of the branding lash was upon his back, and the remorse of a murderer -was in his heart; and he knew himself to be a drunkard--a disgrace to -his regiment--a vile wretch, rioting in pleasures purchased by the -coin that he wrung from the woman whom he ill-treated and abused. And, -lastly, his thoughts were reflected back to those times when all was -bright and smiling before him--when he and Ellen were alike untainted -by guilt, and the willing votaries of virtue--when their loves were -innocent and chaste, and they would have started back in horror and -indignation had it been prophesied to them that they were one day -destined to look upon each other with disgust. All these recollections -and reflections poured in, like an overwhelming torrent, upon the mind -of the young dragoon; and his soul was softened--his heart, long so -hard, was touched--and, melting into tears, as he felt the miserable -woman clinging to him with resuscitated fondness, he pressed her to his -bosom, exclaiming, “Ellen, I have wronged you deeply--deeply: but can -you--can you forgive me?” - -The reconciliation was complete; and then Ellen, animated by a sudden -thought, exclaimed, “But, gracious heavens! Leonard, you have absented -yourself from your quarters--and, hark! the clock strikes one.”--The -booming note of St. Paul’s iron tongue had indeed fallen upon their -ears while she was yet speaking.--“I dare not return to the barracks -again,” said Leonard; and she felt that he shuddered convulsively in -her arms.--“But what will you do?” she asked, diffidently.--“Anything!” -he cried: “anything! rather than be flogged again.”--“Flogged!” -repeated Ellen, now shuddering in her turn.--“Yes: I should be -assuredly condemned to that ignominy--that torture,” replied Mitchell. -“My conduct has for some time been so unsteady, and I have been so -often reported ‘_late_,’ that this time nothing could save me from the -_cat_. I have determined not to return to the barracks,” he added, -doggedly.--“But what will you do?” again asked Ellen.--“I know not,” -he responded gloomily. “Unless I can find some secure place wherein -to hide for a few days, until I may escape from the country, I cannot -tell what will become of me.”--“And must you quit the country?” -demanded Ellen.--“Would you have me taken up as a deserter?” asked -Leonard bitterly. “My punishment in that case would be worse than if -I were now to go back and submit to the result of a court-martial -on charges of irregularity, drunkenness, and late hours.”--“Not for -worlds would I have you return under present circumstances,” cried -Ellen, in an impassioned tone: “much less have you eventually incur -the danger of being arrested as a deserter, Leonard,” she added, -after a few moments’ pause, “if you leave the country, I will go -with you.”--“I thought that you would not abandon me,” exclaimed the -dragoon, pressing her closer to him. Then he whispered something in -her ears; and they conversed in a very low tone for several minutes. -At length Ellen yielded to the plan which her lover had suggested, but -which had at first seemed fraught with difficulties.--“Yes,” she said; -“there is no alternative--I must conceal you at my house. And when I -reflect, the two servants are devoted to me: you may suppose that I -have all along bribed them heavily in order to induce them to wink at -my irregularities; and if they refused to become Mr. Gamble’s spies in -these times when he was in full possession of his intellects, they will -not betray me now that he is half childish and does not question them -concerning me any more. Yes: It must be so;--there is no choice left. -Come at once: I possess the latch-key, and can admit you without even -disturbing the servants. It will be sufficient to make confidants of -them to-morrow.” - -The reader may now understand that Ellen was about to consummate her -imprudence by taking her paramour beneath her husband’s roof. When the -first moments of dissolving softness and better feelings had passed -away in respect to Leonard, his selfishness again asserted its empire; -and, while determining to desert, he at the same time bethought himself -how he could still make Ellen’s pecuniary means available for his own -purpose. His object was therefore to gain admittance into the house--to -ascertain the precise nature of her resources and find out the amount -of valuables she could dispose of--and then induce her to elope with -him, having previously plundered her husband and his dwelling of -everything worth carrying off. We have seen how far his diabolical and -hastily formed scheme succeeded. Two points were already gained: she -would admit him into the house--and she had promised to accompany him -to another country. The robbery, he felt assured, he should be enabled -to reason her into: if not, menaces could be effectually employed, -no doubt. Such was the design which the once upright and honourable -Leonard Mitchell now had in view; and he chuckled inwardly at the -scheme, as he walked arm-in-arm with Ellen towards Stamford Street. -In ten minutes they reached Mr. Gamble’s house: Ellen opened the -street-door by means of the latch-key which she had about her;--and -the dragoon passed, unobserved and noiselessly, to her bed-room--for -during the past eighteen months she and her husband had occupied -separate chambers. The remainder of that night glided away: in the -morning Ellen admitted the two domestics to her confidence; and as she -at the same time slipped a heavy bribe into their hands, they willingly -promised devotion to her interests. The day passed heavily enough for -the dragoon, who was accustomed to exercise and bustle, and who could -not endure the idea of being pent up within the narrow limits of a -bed-room. He accordingly determined to put the remainder of his scheme -into execution without delay; and he rejoiced when night once more -spread its sable wing over this hemisphere. - -It was eleven o’clock: Mr. Gamble had long before retired to rest--the -servants had likewise sought their chamber;--and Leonard was seated at -table with Ellen in the bedroom of the latter. A succulent supper and -rich wines were placed before them: the curtains were drawn carefully -over the windows; and a lamp diffused a mellow lustre throughout -the apartment. Having eaten as much as he cared for, Leonard filled -a tumbler with sherry, which he drank at a draught to inspire him -with courage for the part which he had now to play--for, by fair or -foul means, was he resolved to succeed. “Ellen,” said he, after a -pause, “we must quit the house to-night.”--“To-night!” she exclaimed, -in astonishment: “wherefore this hurry?”--“In the first place,” he -replied, “because I cannot bear confinement here; and secondly, -because it may as well be done now as a week or a month hence.”--“Let -us postpone our departure until to-morrow night,” said Ellen, -imploringly.--“Why so?”--“Because I have not seen my father for many -days,” she answered: “he has been so much engaged in the City; and I -should wish to bid him farewell for ever, if only mentally.”--“This -is childish!” ejaculated Leonard impatiently. “I thought you had lost -all respect for your father?”--“Oh! but I cannot forget that he _is_ -my father,” responded Ellen, the tears trickling down her cheeks: -“and now that I have made up my mind to leave England for ever, I -would embrace him once more.”--“Then I must depart without you,” said -Leonard, rising from his chair--“Oh! this is unkind to a degree!” -urged Ellen bitterly. “Surely you can allow me four-and-twenty hours -for the necessary preparations?”--“Our preparations can be made in an -hour,” said Leonard obstinately: then, reseating himself, he drank off -another tumblerful of wine. “Listen to me. What preparations have you -to make, save to possess yourself of all the money, plate, jewels, and -other valuables you can lay your hands upon?”--Ellen stared at her -lover with the fixed gaze of mingled astonishment and horror.--“Well, -what is the matter with you?” he demanded.--“Leonard, you are not in -earnest?” she said at length: “you would not have me rob my husband -of his plate?”--“Certainly,” replied the ruffian: “and of his watch, -and everything of value that is portable in the house. We must not go -away empty-handed, I can tell you.”--“Is it possible that you would -counsel me to do this?” asked Ellen, speaking in a low and agitated -voice. “Leonard, I have never hesitated to supply you with money, -because that is an article which I believe to exist in common between -a husband and wife. Moreover, the household has suffered in no way by -the appropriation of those sums to your wants. But if you mean me to -plunder my husband of his plate--his watch--and other things which are -beyond all question his own exclusively, I declare once for all that -I will not be a party to such a deed. It is sufficient,” she added, -tears now bursting from her eyes, “that I am what I am, without leaving -behind me the reputation of a thief.”--Leonard ground his teeth with -rage: and again he had recourse to the wine-bottle.--“Pray recall the -words that you have uttered,” exclaimed Ellen: “tell me that you were -joking, or that you only made the proposal in order to try me!”--“I -never was more serious in my life,” said Leonard, brutally.--“Oh! what -do I hear?” cried the wretched woman, wringing her hands.--“Enough of -this!” ejaculated the ruffian, starting from his seat. “Do you mean -to accompany me, or do you not?”--“Yes, yes; I have pledged myself -to _that_!”--“And are we to go empty-handed?”--“I have sixty or -seventy pounds in money, and my jewels are worth as much more.”--“And -the plate?” demanded Leonard.--“Is always kept in a box beneath Mr. -Gamble’s bed; and therefore you see how impossible it is to obtain it, -even if I were disposed to plunder him of property which has been in -his family for so many, many years.” - -Leonard reseated himself--poured out more wine--drank it--and then -fell into a deep meditation. Ellen watched his countenance, flattering -herself that the reason she had alleged for forbearance in respect to -the plate would prove efficient. But she had only confirmed the ruffian -in his resolution to possess it; inasmuch as she had committed herself -in two ways. Firstly, she had told him where it was; and secondly, by -informing him that it had been in the family for many years, she had -naturally left on his mind the impression that it was of considerable -value--for heir-looms of that species are usually costly. What, then, -was Leonard Mitchell really thinking of--thinking of, too, under the -influence of the deep potations which he had imbibed? He was revolving -a hellish project in his mind. If he endeavoured to possess himself -of the plate contrary to the assent of Ellen, a disturbance would -ensue in the house, and his arrest as a deserter might follow upon the -discovery of his presence there. To depart without the plate was not at -all suitable to his purposes: for if he repaired to a foreign country, -it would not be to toil for a livelihood. How, then, was he to secure -the coveted property, and carry it away without the chance of noise or -detection? Only if Ellen were removed from his path! Yes--_this_ was -the project now revolved in the mind of the lost, depraved young man; -and, having again fortified himself with liquor, he determined to put -his diabolical scheme into execution. Suddenly rising from his seat, -he approached Ellen, and, taking her hand, said, “Forgive me, dearest, -for what I dared to utter just now. We will delay our departure until -to-morrow night; and then you shall take with you just so much as you -choose to select, and nothing more.”--“I freely pardon you, Leonard,” -she replied; and yet, as he bent over her, there was a wild gleaming -in his eye and a peculiarity of expression in his countenance which -caused vague apprehensions to sweep across her mind. “But how strangely -you regard me, Leonard,” she said: “is anything the matter with -you?”--“Nothing, nothing, dearest,” he responded, throwing his arms -round her neck and pressing her head as if in the fervour of affection -against his bosom. All her alarms were immediately dissipated; and, -thrown completely off her guard, she returned the embrace, abandoning -herself entirely to him. At that instant his right hand was withdrawn; -and, as he uttered some words of endearment, he possessed himself of -the carving knife, unperceived by her.--“Let us now retire to rest, -Leonard,” she murmured, as her face lay buried on his chest: “It is -growing late----Oh! heavens----” - -And farther utterance was suddenly stopped; for, like a flash of -lightning, the sharp blade, gleaming in the rays of the lamp, was -drawn across her throat--the murderer turning her head and throwing -it back at the same moment in order to aid his fell design. Death was -almost instantaneous; and the miscreant gently lowered the body upon -the floor. For nearly half a minute did he stand gazing upon that -corpse--unable to believe that it was really what it seemed to be, and -that he had perpetrated the deed. Then, as the awful conviction stared -him fully in the face, and the entire sense of his enormity seized upon -his soul, he would have given worlds, had he possessed them, to undo -what was there done! But it was too late--oh! too late; and he must -save himself--he must escape! A bumper of brandy gave him the courage -of a brute: and, taking the lamp in his hand, he crept cautiously to -Mr. Gamble’s bed-room. The door was unlocked, and the old man slept -profoundly. Beneath the bed was the plate-chest: but it was securely -fastened with a padlock. Leonard raised the chest, and, placing it on -his shoulder, was about to quit the room, when he espied upon a chair -the clothes which Mr. Gamble had put off when retiring to rest. These -garments the murderer likewise self-appropriated, as well as a hat, -which was standing on a chest of drawers; and he noiselessly retraced -his way to the chamber where the corpse lay. Turning his back towards -that appalling spectacle, he proceeded to dress himself in Mr. Gamble’s -apparel, which fitted him quite well enough for his purpose, and was at -all events a safer attire than his uniform. He next proceeded to break -open the plate-chest--a task speedily effected by means of the same -knife that had accomplished the murder. The contents of the chest, when -rapidly scanned by his eager eyes, were evidently of great value; and -he hastened to pack them up in towels, and lastly in brown paper. He -then rifled the jewel-box of his murdered paramour; and, in addition to -the costly articles which he found there, were the seventy pounds that -the unfortunate woman had alluded to but a few minutes before she had -ceased to exist. Leonard was satisfied with the booty thus acquired; -and he was moreover in haste to depart. Having secured the money and -jewels about his person, he took the parcel containing the plate -under his arm, and stole cautiously down the stairs. All was silent -throughout the house: several times did he pause to listen--but not a -sound was heard;--and he gained the street without interruption. When, -however, he was in the open air, he knew not whither to go--what plan -to adopt,--whether to seek concealment in London until the coming storm -should have blown over, or to make every effort to get out of England. -The latter plan appeared to be the more advisable; and he accordingly -pushed on towards the Dover road. - -It was shortly after sun-rise that Mr. Gamble, awaking from a sound -sleep, beheld a deep stain on the ceiling of his chamber; and, with -eyes rivetted upon it, he lay reflecting what it could possibly be. -The old man was half childish; and the strangest conjectures passed -through his mind. At length he grew frightened: an unknown terror -stole gradually upon him--and he rang his bell violently. In a few -minutes the two female domestics entered the room, having hastily -huddled on some clothing; and they found their master gazing intently -up at the ceiling, with a wild vacancy in the eyes. Their own looks -instantly took the same direction; and one of them suddenly exclaimed, -with shuddering horror, “It is blood!” They then hurried up-stairs; -and a frightful spectacle met their view. Their mistress lay upon -the floor, with her throat cut from ear to ear; and the carpet was -completely saturated with her blood. Screams and shrieks burst from -the lips of the horror-stricken women; and rushing down stairs, they -rashly communicated to Mr. Gamble, without any previous warning -or preparation, the dreadful tragedy which had been enacted. The -flickering, decaying lamp of the old man’s intellect suddenly burnt -up vividly for a few moments: the full powers of reason returned;--he -comprehended the appalling news which were thus unguardedly made known -to him; and with a horrible lamentation he sprang from his bed. With -incredible speed did he ascend to his wife’s chamber; and when the -awful spectacle met his eyes, he threw up his arms in despair, gave -vent to a piteous cry, and sank down on the blood-stained corpse. -Meantime one of the servants had hastened next door to alarm Mr. -Pomfret; and when that gentleman, accompanied by two or three of -his own domestics, appeared on the scene of murder, assistance was -immediately offered to Mr. Gamble. But all endeavours to recover him -were ineffectual: the shock he had received was a death-blow--and life -was extinct! - -A few questions hastily put to the old man’s servants elicited many -facts dreadful for Mr. Pomfret to hear. He now learnt enough to -convince him that his daughter had long maintained an illicit connexion -with a handsome young dragoon--that her lover had been admitted the -night before the one of the murder into the house--and that he must -have been the author of the dreadful deed. Farther investigation -corroborated this belief: the uniform was found, and a suit of Mr. -Gamble’s apparel had disappeared;--the plate, jewels, and money -were likewise gone. The distracted father, having heard a long time -previously that Leonard Mitchell had enlisted in a dragoon regiment, -immediately suspected that he must be the criminal; and this idea was -confirmed by the discovery of some letters in Ellen’s desk. Information -of the murder and robbery was accordingly given to the proper -authorities; and Mr. Pomfret, crushed to the very dust by the weight -of misfortune, crept back to his own cheerless dwelling--there to -meditate upon the closing scene of the tragedy in which his own conduct -had originally made his poor daughter the heroine. Bitterness was in -the wretched man’s soul--horror in his eyes--spasmodic shuddering in -all his limbs; and, when he contemplated his child’s horrible end and -his own ruined fortunes, he felt indeed that he had nothing left worth -living for. The cup of his adversity was not, however, quite full yet: -but in a few hours it was overflowing--for his head clerk arrived in -a cab, and, rushing into the parlour without ceremony, announced to -him that the officers of justice were in search of him, a true bill -of indictment having been found against him for certain frauds in his -commercial transactions. “Thank you--thank you, for coming to give me -this timely warning,” said Mr. Pomfret, pressing his clerk’s hand with -painful violence: “I will depart immediately;”--and he staggered from -the room. The clerk waited five minutes, and began to grow impatient: -ten minutes elapsed and still his master did not reappear. The man rose -and rang the bell furiously to summon one of the domestics; but at the -same instant the constables entered the house. These officials, having -learnt from the servant who admitted them, that Mr. Pomfret was at -home, proceeded to search the dwelling; and the clerk, now entertaining -the worst fears, accompanied them to the ruined merchant’s bed-chamber. -There these fears met with immediate confirmation: Mr. Pomfret had put -a period to his existence--he had hanged himself to a strong nail in -his sleeping apartment! The body was instantly cut down, and medical -assistance promptly obtained: but the wretched suicide was no more. - -In the evening of that same day a man was arrested under suspicious -circumstances at Dover. The news of the awful occurrences in Stamford -Street had not reached that town at the time--for there was neither -railway nor electric telegraph between London and the Kentish coast in -those days: but the individual alluded to, had presented a quantity -of plate at a pawnbroker’s shop, and, not being able to give a -satisfactory account of how it came into his possession, was detained -until a constable arrived to take him into custody. On the ensuing -morning the tidings of the murder in London reached Dover; and the -particulars given by the newspapers of the preceding evening were ample -enough to identify the person under arrest with the Leonard Mitchell -who was accused of desertion, murder, and robbery. He was accordingly -sent under a strong escort to the metropolis, where, on his arrival, -he was immediately lodged in Newgate. In due course his trial came -on: he was found guilty upon evidence the most conclusive:--and, upon -being called upon to allege anything wherefore sentence of death should -not be passed, he addressed the Judge in the following manner:--“I -acknowledge, my lord, that I am guilty of the dreadful crime imputed -to me; and although it be too late--far too late to express contrition -now, I nevertheless declare that I am deeply, deeply penitent. My -lord, lost--degraded--criminal--and condemned, as I stand here in -your presence, I was once as sincerely attached to virtue as any man -or woman who now hears me. Even when adversity entered the paternal -dwelling, ravaging it with the desolating fury of an army, I yielded -to no evil temptation: neither did my confidence in the justice, the -goodness, and the wisdom of heaven abate. I enlisted, my lord, in order -to obtain an honest livelihood, and to stifle in the bustle of a new -state of existence the painful reminiscences of blighted hopes and -crushed affections. The officers who have appeared before your lordship -this day, have all admitted, in reply to the question I put to them, -that up to the time when I was sentenced to three hundred lashes, I -had never even received a reprimand nor had been once reported for -the slightest irregularity. But from the moment that the first blow -of the torturing and degrading weapon fell upon my back, my existence -assumed a new phase--my soul underwent a sudden and immediate change. -With each drop of blood that oozed from my lacerated back, ebbed away -some sentiment of rectitude--some principle of virtue. My lord, it -was the lash that drove me to drinking--that made me reckless of all -consequences--that made me a liar and a voluptuary, a mean fellow -and a paltry rascal--and that hardened my heart so as to render it -inaccessible to every feeling of honour, mercy, or remorse. It was the -lash, then, that has made me a murderer; and I might almost claim to -be pitied, rather than to be looked upon with loathing. A cruel law -taught me to be cruel: a merciless and barbarian punishment prepared -me to become a ruthless and ferocious assassin. And now, my lord, I am -about to reveal a fact which has long ago been suspected, and which, -situated as I unhappily am, need not exist in doubt or uncertainty any -more. My life must be forfeited for the crime which has been proved -against me this day; and it will unburthen my soul of a heavy secret -to confess another crime, which I perpetrated upwards of a year ago. -Your lordship doubtless remembers that a young nobleman--an officer in -the regiment to which I belonged--was shot at a review in Hyde Park. My -lord, I was the assassin: the man accused me wrongfully--persecuted me -unrelentingly--and lied most foully against me,--and I was avenged.” - -[Illustration] - -As Leonard uttered these last words in a firm tone and with marked -emphasis, a thrill of horror passed through the crowded court; and -the dead silence which had been observed while he was speaking, was -succeeded by a subdued murmuring as of many voices commenting on what -he had said. Erect, and with an evident determination to meet his doom -courageously, the unhappy young man stood in the dock--his eye quailing -not, his limbs trembling not; and, heinous as his offences were, he -was not altogether without commiseration on the part of many present. -The judge put on the black cap; and the sentence of death--that -barbarian sentence--was pronounced in due form, the culprit receiving -an intimation that he need entertain no hope of mercy. The hint was -unnecessary: he had made up his mind to suffer;--and as firmly as he -walked out of the dock back into the prison, so resolutely did he step -from that same prison ten days afterwards on to the scaffold erected -at the debtors’ door. A tremendous crowd was assembled to witness the -execution; and the unhappy criminal maintained his courage to the last. - -From that time have the three houses in Stamford Street been shut up: -from that period have they been suffered to fall into decay. In the -first, old Mr. Mitchell expired suddenly: in the second, Mr. Pomfret -hung himself;--and in the third, Ellen was brutally murdered. The hand -of Fate had marked those three tenements to be the scenes of horror and -of crime: and a superstitious feeling on the part of certain credulous -and weak-minded neighbours soon engendered the report that they were -haunted. It was said that the ghost of the young lady had been seen -walking in her shroud, in the yard behind the house where she was -murdered; and rumour added that on the anniversary night of the dread -crime which had hurried her to a premature grave, she was wont to -wander about the premises, uttering hollow and sepulchral moans. Such -reports as those lose nothing by repetition during the lapse of years, -especially while the buildings which were the scenes of the crimes -engendering the superstition, continue to exist; and therefore is it -that even at the present day the evil reputation of the HAUNTED HOUSES -remains unimpaired in Stamford Street and its neighbourhood. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXIX. - -THE GHOST.--AGNES AND MRS. MORTIMER. - - -The preceding episode has run to a considerable length; but we hope and -believe that our readers will experience no difficulty in resuming the -thread of the general narrative. - -It must be remembered that the leading incidents of the story just -placed on record were related to Mrs. Mortimer by Jack Rily, by way -of passing the few hours during which they had agreed to remain with -Vitriol Bob, who, bound hand and foot, was seated helplessly in a chair. - -“Yes,” observed Jack Rily, when he had brought his history to a -conclusion, “they do say that the young woman walks at times----” - -“Don’t speak in such a solemn tone,” interrupted Mrs. Mortimer, casting -a shuddering glance around: “you almost make me think that you yourself -believe in the possibility of the spectral visitation.” - -“Well--I don’t know how it is.” returned the Doctor, feeling a -certain superstitious influence growing upon him, and which he vainly -endeavoured to shake off,--“but I certainly never before had such -sensations as I experience now. Upon my soul;” he cried, striking the -table violently with his clenched fist, “I am a prey to vague and -undefined alarms to night:--but I will subdue them!” - -“And are you sure that this is the house where the young lady was -murdered?” asked Mrs. Mortimer, after a brief pause. - -“There is no doubt about _that_!” responded Jack Rily. “Vitriol Bob -there can tell you that the floor of the chamber where the deed took -place is blackened with accumulated dust, yet in the middle there is -a deeper stain; and on the ceiling of the room beneath, it is easy to -descry the same sinister traces, even amidst dirt and cobwebs.” - -“Then, as you said just now,” remarked Mrs. Mortimer, drawing her shawl -over her shoulders--for she experienced the chill of superstitious -terror gaining upon her,--“as you said just now, _this_ is the second -murder that has been committed within these walls!” - -Scarcely had Mrs. Mortimer ceased speaking when the bell of the -neighbouring church proclaimed the hour of _one_. - -“Now is the time for the ghost,” said Vitriol Bob, with a low but -ferocious chuckle; for he experienced a malignant pleasure in observing -that superstitious fears were gaining on the formidable Rily and the -hideous old woman. “You don’t like the near neighbourhood of the stiff -’un, I’m a-thinking! Well--I’ll lay you a wager, Jack, that I’ll go and -shake the old feller by the hand quite in a friendly way--if you will -but take off these cussed cords. There’s no ill feelin’ betwixt us now.” - -“I would much rather leave you where you are, and send Polly Calvert to -release you,” replied the Doctor. - -“Yes--yes,” hastily exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, “let him be where he is. -But surely we may go now, Mr. Rily? It is getting on for two----” - -“It has only just this minit struck one!” cried Vitriol Bob, with a -malignant leer from his dark, reptile-like eyes, which seemed to shine -with a glare of their own, independent of and brighter than the dim -light of the miserable candle. “Besides,” he added, now purposely -rendering his voice as solemn and ominous in its tone as possible, -“’tis just the time for the ghost of the young gal--or rayther, the -young o’oman to walk; and I should be wexed indeed if you didn’t stay -to have a look at her. I’ve seen her more than once----” - -“That’s an infernal falsehood, Bob!” exclaimed Jack Rily, starting from -his seat on the barrel, and vainly endeavouring to subdue the nervous -excitement that had gained so rapidly upon him. - -“It’s true--true as you’re there!” cried the murderer, who felt a -ferocious joy at thus inspiring terror in the mind of the strong and -hardened ruffian who had conquered him. “And I’ll tell you somethink -more too,” continued Vitriol Bob: “you said just now--and you said -truly also--that on the anniwersary of the murder the young lady -wanders about the place, uttering holler moans. Well--this is the -night, then, that she was murdered just twenty years ago;--and the -clock has struck _one_!” - -The effect which these words produced upon Jack Rily and Mrs. Mortimer -was as rapid as it was extraordinary. Although they were both of a -nature peculiarly inaccessible to superstitious terrors on common -occasions, and under any other circumstances would have laughed at the -idea of spectral visitations and ghostly wanderings,--yet now they -vainly struggled against the powerful influence of increasing terror; -and, although in their hearts, they more than half suspected that -Vitriol Bob had spoken only to aggravate their alarms, yet they could -not shake off the awe and consternation that seized upon their souls. -In respect to Jack Rily, it was one of those periods of evanescent -weakness which the most brutal and remorseless ruffians are known -periodically to experience;--but, with regard to Mrs. Mortimer, it -was the singularity of her present position--the consciousness that -she was in a lonely place with two men of desperate character--the -terrible remembrance that the murdered corse of her husband lay in the -adjoining room--the impression made upon her mind by the appalling -history of crime which had been to elaborately detailed to her--the -thought that the very floors and the ceilings of the uppermost chambers -in that house, bore testimony to the tale of blood--and the idea that -the ghost of the assassinated lady was wont to wander in the depth of -the night and on the scene of the crime,--it was all this that struck -Mrs. Mortimer with awe and consternation, rendering her incapable of -serious reflection, and levelling her strong mind as it were beneath -the influence of superstitious terrors. - -“Well--what the devil is the matter with you both?” demanded Vitriol -Bob, after a pause. - -“How do you mean?” asked Jack Rily, reseating himself, and grasping the -brandy-bottle with a trembling hand. - -“Why--you and the old lady looked at each other as if you already heard -the light step and the rustling shroud of the apparition,” said the -murderer. - -“Hark! what was that?” ejaculated the Doctor, once more starting to his -feet. - -“It certainly was a noise somewhere,” observed Mrs. Mortimer, trembling -from head to foot. - -“Perhaps the old man in the back-kitchen has got up and is groping his -way about,” said Vitriol Bob, speaking with an affectation of terror -which was so natural that it cruelly enhanced the superstitious alarms -experienced by his companions. - -“This is intolerable!” exclaimed Rily, looking in a ghastly manner -towards the door, as if he more than half expected to behold it -suddenly thrown open, and some hideous form appear on the threshold. “I -can’t make out what it is that has come over me to-night! ’Tis like a -warning--and yet I never believed in ghosts until now.” - -“Nor I--nor I!” murmured Mrs. Mortimer. “But to-night--I feel also as -if----” - -“Hark!” suddenly cried Vitriol Bob: “there is a noise again!” - -“It must be the old man!” ejaculated the Doctor. “Are you sure that you -did for him thoroughly?” - -“If anythink like him meets your eyes, Jack, it must be his ghost, I -can assure you,” was the solemn answer--although Vitriol Bob himself -partook not in the slightest degree of the superstitious terrors -that had grown upon his companions, but was on the contrary inwardly -chuckling with malignant joy at their awe-struck state of mind. - -“There! did you hear it?” demanded Mrs. Mortimer, in a hasty and -excited tone. “I am sure it was a noise this time: there could be no -mistake about it!” - -And she endeavoured to rise from her chair;--but terror kept her -motionless--paralysing every limb, though not placing a seal upon her -lips. - -“Something dreadful is to happen to-night--I know it--I feel it!” said -Jack Rily, in a tone which indicated remorse for a long career of -crime and turpitude. “By God! ’tis the back-door of the house that is -opening----” - -“Then this is serious indeed!” interrupted Vitriol Bob, now alarmed in -his turn--but rather on account of constables than spectres. “Unloose -me--let us fight--resist----” - -“Silence!” muttered Jack Rily, in a low but imperious tone. - -There was a pause of nearly a minute, during which the three inmates of -the kitchen held their breath to listen, in painful suspense. - -Suddenly the rattling of the crazy bannisters outside fell upon their -ears; and Jack Rily, worked up to a pitch of desperation, seized the -candle, saying in a hoarse and dogged tone, “By hell! I will face it, -whatever it may be!” - -With these words he tore open the kitchen-door;--and, behold! before -him stood a female form--clothed in white--with a countenance pale as -death--her hair flowing wildly and dishevelled over her shoulders--and -with eyes fixed in unnatural brilliancy upon him. - -The ruffian was for a few moments paralyzed--stupified with horror: -then, unable any longer to endure the spectacle which his fears -converted into a corpse wrapped in a winding-sheet, he exclaimed, “The -ghost! the ghost!”--and dropped the candle upon the floor. - -Total darkness immediately ensued. - -At the same instant a piercing scream echoed through the house; and -Mrs. Mortimer, now recovering all her presence of mind, started to her -feet, crying, “That is no apparition--save of flesh and blood! Haste, -Jack Rily--procure a light! Where are you, man? Let us see who it is!” - -“Here I am,” returned the Doctor, likewise regaining his -self-possession. “Bob, where are the lucifers?” - -“In my right-hand pocket,” growled the murderer, who, in the excitement -of the past scene, and in the tremendous but ineffectual exertions -which he had made to release himself from his bonds the moment the -light was extinguished, had fallen from his seat and rolled upon the -floor. - -Nearly half a minute now elapsed ere the candle was found and lighted -again; and then Jack Rily, closely followed by Mrs. Mortimer, hastened -into the passage, where they beheld the form of a young female -stretched senseless at the foot of the stairs. - -The old woman stooped down to raise her: but scarcely had she caught a -glimpse of the pale countenance, on which the finger of death seemed to -have been placed, when, starting with surprise and joy, she exclaimed, -“’Tis Agnes Vernon, as I am a living being!” - -“Agnes Vernon--who is she? do you know her?” demanded the Doctor, -holding forward the light. “By Jove! she is a sweet creature, whoever -she is! That’s right--raise her gently. But is she dead, poor thing?” - -“No--no: her heart beats--and her lips already begin to move,” -responded Mrs. Mortimer hastily, as she held the still senseless maiden -in her arms. “Well--this is a lucky chance that has thrown her in our -way--and there’s money to be made out of it.” - -“So much the better? Shall I get a little water?” asked the Doctor. - -“Yes--and use despatch,” returned Mrs. Mortimer. - -Jack Rily entered the kitchen, and filled a glass with water. - -“Who is it?” demanded Vitriol Bob, whom the Doctor had previously -restored to his position in the chair. - -“A young lady that Mrs. Mortimer happens to know,” was the reply. -“There is no danger from other visitors, according to all appearances: -so keep quiet, and don’t alarm yourself.” - -The Doctor hastened back into the passage, where Mrs. Mortimer was -seated on the last step of the staircase, supporting Agnes in her arms. - -“Now, will you follow my advice, Mr. Rily?” she demanded in a rapid -tone, as she sprinkled the water upon the pallid countenance of the -young lady. - -“Yes--if it seems feasible,” was the immediate answer. “What is it?” - -“That we do not keep this timid thing a moment longer in the house than -is absolutely necessary,” continued Mrs. Mortimer. “For our own sakes -we must guard against her beholding the interior of that place;” and, -as she uttered these words in a low tone, she nodded significantly -towards the door of the back kitchen where the corpse of Torrens had -been deposited. - -“Yes--yes: I understand,” said Jack Rily: “it might be thought that we -were accomplices in the murder. In the same way it would do no good to -let her see Vitriol Bob bound neck and crop in the front kitchen.” - -“That is just what I was about to suggest,” observed Mrs. Mortimer. “We -must get her out of the house as soon as possible, and into a cab----” - -“Then don’t use any more means to recover her,” interrupted Jack Rily, -snatching the glass of water from the old woman’s hand. “Let her remain -for a short time longer in that trance: it will not kill her, depend -upon it--and you have the advantage of possessing an Æsculapius in me.” - -“What do you propose, then?” demanded Mrs. Mortimer, casting an anxious -glance upon the countenance of the still senseless girl. - -“Don’t be frightened, I tell you,” repeated Jack Rily: “I will -guarantee that she shall recover. But let us be off at once. I -will take her in my arms and carry her into Bennett Street; the -neighbourhood is all quiet and deserted at this hour;--and you shall -order round a cab from the stand in the road There are always two or -three in attendance throughout the night.” - -“Good!” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer. “We will be off at once.” - -“This instant,” said Jack Rily, as he gently raised the motionless, -senseless form in his powerful arms, while Mrs. Mortimer took off her -shawl and wrapped it hastily over the head and shoulders of Agnes. - -The Doctor gave a hurried intimation to Vitriol Bob that Molly Calvert -should be sent to him as speedily as possible; and he then stole out of -the house, Mrs. Mortimer having previously ascertained that the coast -was perfectly clear. - -Everything was effected as Jack Rily had proposed. He gained Bennett -Street, with his lovely burthen in his arms; and there he waited in the -deep darkness afforded by a large gateway, until Mrs. Mortimer came -round with the cab. The maiden was placed in the vehicle, which the -old woman entered in order to take charge of her; and Jack Rily, after -having made an appointment with his accomplice for the next evening, -bade her a temporary farewell. - -The cab drove away towards Park Square; and the Doctor, on his side, -hurried off to the lodgings of Pig-faced Moll. - -But the thread of our narrative now lies with Mrs. Mortimer and the -beauteous Agnes Vernon. - -Scarcely had the cab moved away from the vicinity of the haunted -houses, when Agnes began rapidly to recover; and, on opening her eyes, -she became aware that she was reclining in the arms of a female, and -that they were being borne speedily along in a vehicle. For an instant -it struck her that she must be with her mother: but in the next moment -the horrors of the night crowded rapidly into her memory,--and, -starting up, she demanded in a hurried, anxious manner, “Where am I? -and who are you?” - -Scarcely were the questions put when the young maiden was enabled, by -the silver moon-light, to catch a glimpse of the countenance of her -companion; and she instantly recognised Mrs. Mortimer. - -Her first emotions were of joy and gratitude;--for she was delighted to -find herself in the care of a female--especially one of whom she knew -something: and, taking the old woman’s hand, she said, “Madam, I know -not how to thank you--and am scarcely aware of what I have to thank you -for. But--if my impressions be correct--you must have rescued me from -something very terrible! Yes--I recollect now--that door opening--a -light appearing--and then that hideous, horrible face----” - -And, with a visible shudder, the maiden threw herself back in the -vehicle, pressing her hands to her throbbing brows in order to collect -her still disjointed and somewhat confused reminiscences. - -“You are labouring under dreadful recollections my dear child,” said -Mrs. Mortimer, in a soothing tone. “Know you not--can you not suspect -that you were in the power of a ruffian when I fortunately encountered -you?” - -“But where--where?” demanded Agnes, impatiently, as her settling ideas -seemed to coincide with that belief. - -“I should rather ask you, my sweet maiden,” said Mrs. Mortimer, “how -you came to be in Stamford Street this night.” - -“My mother took me thither--yes--I recollect it all now!” exclaimed -Agnes. “She left me at the house of some dear friends--and I was -ungrateful enough to entertain the most injurious suspicions respecting -them,--yes--and relative to my own dear mother also.” - -“Your mother?” repeated Mrs. Mortimer, in astonishment. “I thought -you had never known her--or that she had died when you were in your -infancy.” - -“Oh! no--thank God! my mother is alive--and I know her now!” ejaculated -Agnes, with all the enthusiasm of a strongly reviving affection--a -powerfully resuscitating devotion for the parent whom she had so lately -discovered. - -“But where is your mother now?” enquired Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Ah! that I know not!” replied Agnes. “And this reminds me,” she -exclaimed after a few moments’ pause, “that you must take me back to -the good kind ladies in Stamford Street, that I may remain there until -my mother shall come to fetch me away to the new home which she has -promised to prepare for me.” - -“Who are those good ladies?” asked Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Their name is Theobald, and they live in Stamford Street,” responded -the artless girl. “You may know the house--or at least the driver of -the vehicle can find it out, when I describe it as being situated -fourth from the corner of the Blackfriars’ Road, and next to three -deserted--dilapidated--sinister-looking houses----” - -“Ah! then you must have found your way from the dwelling of your -friends into one of those ruined places,” thought Mrs. Mortimer. “But -I am really at a loss, my dear young lady, to comprehend all you tell -me,” she said aloud. - -“Before I give you the necessary explanations to enable you to -understand it all,” said Agnes, “will you inform me which road the -vehicle is pursuing?” - -“I am taking you to a place of safety, my dear girl,” responded Mrs. -Mortimer. - -“A place of safety!” repeated Agnes, her countenance assuming an -expression of deep anxiety: “am I, then, in any danger? and in what -does the peril consist?” - -“I know not, my love,” answered the old woman, speaking in the kindest -tone of voice. “I only judge by the condition in which I found you--the -circumstances which threw us this night together--and the observations -which have fallen from your lips, that you were indeed in a state of -extreme danger.” - -“Just heaven!” ejaculated Agnes. “But what observations did I make----” - -“That you had entertained suspicions relative to the friends to whose -care your mother had consigned you,” said Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Yes--and I told you truly,” resumed the ingenuous maiden. “I know not -how it was--I cannot account for it now--but when I found myself alone -in a strange house, terrible though undefined fears took possession of -my soul--and I resolved to escape. I succeeded in getting as far as the -next house, which I entered: but scarcely had I crossed the threshold -of the back door, when a light suddenly appeared and a countenance was -revealed to my affrighted gaze--a countenance so dreadful to look upon -that I tremble now as I think of it. Then, so far as I can recollect, I -heard a voice thundering something loud but unintelligible in my ears: -I screamed--and fainted. When I came to my senses, I was in your arms -and in this vehicle.” - -“I can throw some light upon the matter,” said Mrs. Mortimer, whose -object was to keep the attention of Agnes as much and as unremittingly -engaged as possible, so as to prevent her from growing uneasy -relative to the ultimate destination of the cab: for should she -become alarmed, she might appeal to the driver for protection, and a -disturbance in the streets would prove inevitable. “You must know,” -continued Mrs. Mortimer, “that I was returning home from a friend’s -house in Stamford-street, when I met a great, stout, horribly ugly -man carrying a female form in his arms. The moon-light showed me his -dreadful countenance--and I instantly suspected that some foul play was -intended. I accordingly insisted that he should stop--which he did with -much reluctance, declaring that you were his daughter, and that he was -taking you home, as you had fallen down in a fit.” - -“Oh! then some mischief was really meditated towards me!” exclaimed -Agnes, clasping her hands together in shuddering horror of the perils -through which she supposed herself to have passed. - -“Yes--my dear child,” observed Mrs. Mortimer, “you doubtless owe your -life to me----” - -“Ah! madam,” interrupted Agnes, “how can I ever sufficiently thank you -for your goodness?”--then, as a reminiscence struck to her artless -mind with the pang of a remorse, she exclaimed, as she pressed the -old woman’s wrinkled hands to her lips, “It seems fated that I should -suspect those who are my best friends!” - -“Do not think of that, my love,” said the wily old creature, who easily -conjectured what was passing in that amiable maiden’s ingenuous soul. -“When you know me better, you will appreciate my conduct towards you -as it deserves. Doubtless your father set you against me--and then -that little misunderstanding relative to the affair of Lord William -Trevelyan----But enough of that for the present! Let me conclude my -little narrative relative to yourself. Well, I was describing to you -how I compelled the man to stop; and I was about to tell you that I -was by no means satisfied with the explanations he gave me. Indeed, I -threatened to summon the assistance of the police; and you may be well -assured that this menace suddenly became a settled resolution, when, -as the moonlight fell upon the countenance of the fair creature whom -the man carried in his arms, I recognised yourself, my sweet Agnes! You -can conceive my astonishment, perhaps--but you can form no idea of the -apprehension that seized on me; for I really love you dearly, although -I have seen so little of you. The man was dreadfully alarmed when he -perceived that I knew you; and I had no difficulty in compelling him to -surrender you into my charge. He then decamped; and I placed you in a -cab which happened to be passing at the time. You now know all.” - -“Ah! from what inconceivable perils have you not saved me!” exclaimed -Agnes, full of enthusiastic and impassioned gratitude towards the woman -whom she looked upon as her deliverer. “My dear mother will thank you -warmly--earnestly--most sincerely for this generous act on your part; -and I shall never, never forget the deep obligation under which you -have placed me.” - -“Enough on that subject, my dear child,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “You have -spoken several times of your mother--may I ask how you came to discover -her, or how she happened to have remained so long unknown to you?” - -“I am bewildered when I think of all that!” returned Miss Vernon, -in a mournful tone. “It was last evening that she came to me--that -she sought me out in my retirement--that she announced herself as my -parent; and my heart’s feelings gave me the assurance that she was -indeed what she represented herself to be. Then I agreed to accompany -her--for she told me that she was unhappy, and she claimed my love and -my duty as a daughter. Oh! my dear madam, you can doubtless understand -how joyous--how delightful were my emotions on thus encountering a -mother whom I had never known till then! I only thought of giving way -to those delicious feelings--until I found myself left in the charge of -strangers. Then it was that I grew afraid--that vague and undefinable -apprehensions took possession of my soul--that I became suspicions of -all and everything--and that I fled! Foolish, mistaken creature that I -was! That one false step of mine threw me into the hands of a monster, -who would perhaps have killed me had you not rescued me from his power.” - -Agnes paused, and arranged her hair--her dark, luxuriant, glossy -hair--floating so wildly and yet so beauteously in its dishevelled -state, over her shoulders;--and now, as the tint of the rose had -returned to her cheeks, and her eyes had recovered their witching -softness of expression, she appeared transcendantly lovely to the view -of the old woman, whom the moon-light enabled to survey the charming -creature seated opposite to her. - -Suddenly the vehicle stopped;--and Agnes, hastily looking from the -windows, beheld a row of handsome houses on one side, and an enclosure -of verdant shrubs and plants on the other. - -“This is not Stamford Street, madam,” she said to Mrs. Mortimer. - -“No, my dear child,” was the almost whispered reply: “but it is a place -of safety to which I have brought you. Do you imagine that I, who have -saved your life this night, could intend you any harm? Wherefore be -thus ever suspicious respecting your best friends?” - -These words not only reassured Agnes, but made her blush at what she -deemed to be her ingratitude towards her deliverer;--and, pressing the -old woman’s hand fervently, she murmured, “Forgive me, I implore you!” - -“Think no more of it, my love,” said Mrs. Mortimer, as she alighted -from the vehicle: then, turning towards the maiden, she added, “Remain -in your place for a few minutes until I have aroused the people of the -house: the chill air of the early morning will give you cold, lightly -clad as you are.” - -Agnes signified an assent; and the old woman hastened up to the front -door of the house at which they had stopped. She knocked and rang: but -some time elapsed ere the summons was answered. At length a domestic, -who had huddled on some clothing, made his appearance; and, to Mrs. -Mortimer’s query whether his master were at home, an affirmative reply -was given. - -“Then hesitate not to arouse him--for I have called upon a matter of -great importance to his lordship,” said the old woman. - -“Certainly I will do so, madam,” returned the domestic; “since you -assure me that your business is pressing. But will you not walk in and -await his lordship’s readiness to receive you?” - -“Yes,” replied Mrs. Mortimer; “and I have a person with me who must -accompany me. But listen to something that I have to urge upon you. You -will conduct us both, as a matter of course, into the same room: but -when your master is ready to receive me, take care that I obtain an -interview alone with him in the first instance. It is of the highest -consequence that these instructions should be fully attended to.” - -“You shall be obeyed, madam,” said the servant. - -Mrs. Mortimer now fetched Agnes from the vehicle, which she ordered -to be kept waiting for herself; and the two females were conducted -by the domestic into a handsome apartment, where, having lighted the -wax-candles, he left them. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXX. - -AGNES AND TREVELYAN. - - -In spite of her anxiety to place confidence in Mrs. Mortimer--in spite -of the deep obligation under which she believed herself to be lying -towards her, Agnes could not subdue a partial feeling of uneasiness -when she found that she was in a strange house, evidently the abode of -a rich person. - -She gazed round the walls covered with splendid pictures--on the -chandelier suspended to the ceiling--on the elegant and costly -furniture--the superb mantel-ornaments--and down upon the luxurious -carpet, so thick that her tiny feet were almost imbedded in it, as if -she were walking in snow. - -Whose dwelling could it be? Assuredly not Mrs. Mortimer’s--for she -was only treated as a visitress. At length, after the lapse of a few -minutes, the young maiden ventured to ask, “Who are the friends, madam, -with whom you propose to leave me?” - -“Does not that very question, Agnes, imply a suspicion injurious to -me?” said Mrs. Mortimer, evasively. - -“Oh! no--no!” exclaimed Miss Vernon, in a melting tone of the -profoundest sincerity. “But may I not ask so simple a question without -being liable to such a distressing imputation?” - -“Can you not leave yourself in the hands of one who has saved your life -and who wishes you well?” said the old woman, speaking in a voice of -mingled reproach and conciliation. - -“Yes--certainly, madam,” was the immediate answer: “but you yourself -are not going to remain here--inasmuch as you have ordered the -cabriolet to wait for you.” - -“True, Agnes: because I have business of importance to transact at an -early hour this morning, and at a considerable distance hence. Reassure -yourself, my darling girl,” continued the iniquitous hag: “you will be -delighted to meet the person whom you will presently see. Indeed, it -is only a little surprise which I am preparing for you--and, after all -I have done for you, you surely will not deny me the pleasure which -I promise myself in beholding the interview between yourself and the -owner of this splendid mansion.” - -By degrees, as Mrs. Mortimer spoke, the countenance of Agnes brightened -up; for it struck the young maiden that it was her mother whom she -was now to meet--and this idea grew into a positive conviction by the -time the old woman had uttered the last words of her sentence. She was -accordingly about to express renewed gratitude for the happy surprise -thus reserved for her, when the door opened and the domestic returned -to the apartment. - -“Madam, will you follow me?” he said, addressing himself to Mrs. -Mortimer. - -“My dear child,” observed the old woman, turning towards Agnes and -patting her face with a show of affection, “you will remain here -for a few minutes--a very few minutes; and then,” she added, with -a sly smile, which meant as much as to intimate that she read the -hope entertained by Agnes, and should speedily have the pleasure of -gratifying it,--“and then, my love, you will not scold me for having -kept you a little in suspense.” - -Tears of gratitude trembled upon the long dark lashes of the beauteous -maiden, although her lips were wreathed in smiles:--but when Nature -melts into April softness, ’tis with mingled rain and sunshine. - -While Agnes remained alone in the handsome parlour, cradling herself in -the hope that the lapse of a few minutes would see her embraced in the -arms of her mother, Mrs. Mortimer was conducted into another apartment, -where she found herself in the presence of Lord William Trevelyan, who -had dressed himself with as much despatch as possible. - -“Well, madam,” he said, in a hasty and even anxious tone, “what has -brought you hither at this unseasonable hour?--whom have you with -you?--and wherefore this desire, as expressed to my domestic, to see me -alone in the first instance?” - -“My lord, it is Agnes Vernon who has accompanied me, and who is in the -room which I have just left,” answered the old woman. - -“I thought so--I was afraid that it was so, when the servant gave me a -description of her--a very rapid and partial one, it is true, inasmuch -as he beheld her only for a few moments. But, great heavens! madam,” -continued the young nobleman, speaking with singular and unusual -vivacity, “what means this strange proceeding?” - -“That Agnes required an asylum, and I brought her hither,” was the -response. - -“And do you for an instant imagine, madam, that I am capable--that I -would be guilty--that I----But, enough! I will say no more to you: I -see through your real character--and I loathe and despise it! My God! -to think that I should have enlisted a common procuress in my service! -Oh! how can I ever look Agnes in the face?--how venture to accost -her, after having thus offered her the most flagrant of insults? But, -tell me, vile woman,” he exclaimed, seizing Mrs. Mortimer forcibly by -the wrist, while his tone and manner alike indicated the most painful -excitement,--“tell me, I say, by what detestable artifices you have -induced that innocent and unsuspecting maiden to accompany you hither?” - -“My lord, you will be ashamed of yourself for this unworthy conduct -towards me, when you come to know all,--yes, ashamed and astonished at -the same time,” said Mrs. Mortimer, assuming an air of offended dignity -and wounded pride. - -“How!--speak!” ejaculated Lord William, dropping the woman’s arm and -surveying her with mingled surprise and repentance. - -“I shall not waste precious time in entering into details,” resumed -Mrs. Mortimer. “Yesterday morning I saw Agnes and induced her to peruse -your letter. She was offended, and tossed it indignantly back to me.” - -“Ah!” cried the nobleman, his countenance assuming an expression of -extreme vexation. - -“Yes--and here it is,” continued Mrs. Mortimer, producing the epistle -from her reticule, and laying it upon the table. - -“But she read it, you say?” exclaimed Lord William. - -“Every word,” was the response. “Nevertheless, though softened and even -pleased at first, she subsequently thought better of it, and rejected -the communication in the manner I have described. I was disheartened, -and felt unwilling to return to you with such unwelcome intelligence. -An hour ago I quitted the house of a friend in Stamford Street; and in -that same street the following adventure occurred to me.” - -The old woman then related precisely the same anecdote which she had -already told to Agnes, relative to the pretended rescue of that young -lady from the power of a man who was bearing her along insensible in -his arms. - -The young nobleman was astounded; and his manner denoted incredulity. - -“I perceive that your lordship puts no faith in my narrative,” said -Mrs. Mortimer, who conjectured what was passing in his mind: “but -the tale which Agnes can tell you, will corroborate it. She herself -will inform you how she fell into the power of the ruffian from whom -it was subsequently my good fortune to deliver her; and if you place -confidence in her words, you will perforce be led to accord the same -favour to mine?” - -“And her tale--what is it?” demanded the nobleman, impatiently. - -“Yesterday she discovered the mother whom she had lost since her -infancy,” answered Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Her mother!” exclaimed Trevelyan. “And where is that mother? who is -she? Tell me, that I may hasten to her at as early an hour as possible, -and implore of her to accord me the hand of her daughter.” - -“Be not so hasty, my lord. I am totally unacquainted with Agnes -Vernon’s mother; and she herself--poor artless girl! knows, I believe, -but little more. It is however certain that the young lady was induced -to accompany her newly-found parent from the cottage--that she was -consigned to the care of two ladies named Theobald, and dwelling in -Stamford Street--that in the night she became the prey to vague and -unfounded terrors, which induced her to attempt an escape from the -house--and that she fell into the hands of the man from whom I rescued -her.” - -“And wherefore have you brought her hither?” asked Lord William. “Why -not have conducted her back to the ladies to whose care her mother had -consigned her--or to the cottage where she has dwelt so long?” - -“I have put you in the position of one who may perform a chivalrous -action, and thereby win the permanent esteem, gratitude, and love of -this beautiful creature whom you adore,” said Mrs. Mortimer; “and -now you appear inclined to load me with reproaches. Yes--I perceive -that reproaches _are_ trembling upon your lordship’s tongue;--and I -who have done all I could to serve you, shall experience nought save -ingratitude. Oh! short-sighted lover that you are! Here is a young girl -whom I pick up as it were houseless and homeless--and I am already -half-way with her to your mansion, before I even learn from her lips -how she came in Stamford Street at all, or that she has friends there. -But when I do glean those facts, I find that she has escaped from the -guardianship of those friends: and could I suppose that they would be -willing to receive her again? Now, my lord, it is for you to grant her -an asylum--to treat her with all imaginable delicacy and attention--and -to leave me to find out her mother, that you may restore the lost -daughter to the distracted parent. Doubtless the Miss Theobalds will -give me the desired information: and then calculate the amount of -gratitude that will be due to you! In spite of her father--whoever he -may really be, and whatever opposition he might raise--Agnes is yours; -and you gain the object of your heart’s dearest wishes.” - -“And think you, woman,” exclaimed Lord William Trevelyan, unable any -longer to subdue his resentment,--“think you that I will blast the -fair fame of this young lady by retaining her for even a single hour -beneath my roof?--think you that I will obtain for her the inevitable -reputation of having been my mistress, previously to becoming my wife? -No--a thousand times no! And do you imagine that I read not your -heart aright? do you suppose that I am your dupe? I tell you, vile -woman, that in bringing the innocent and artless Agnes hither, you -fancied you would be throwing in my way a temptation which I could -not resist,--a temptation which would thaw all my virtuous principles -and honourable notions, and lead me to sacrifice the purity of the -confiding girl to my passion. Yes--such was your base calculation: or -you would at once and unhesitatingly have conducted her either to the -abode of her friends in Stamford Street, or home to her own cottage! -Ah! madam, because I belong to the aristocracy, you imagine that I -must necessarily be as vile, depraved, and unprincipled as ninety-nine -out of every hundred individuals who bear lordly titles. But you have -deceived yourself--grossly deceived yourself: and you shall at once -have the proof that you are so deceived! Follow me.” - -Thus speaking, Lord William advanced rapidly towards the door, -imperiously beckoning the vile woman to accompany him. - -“Whither are you going, my lord?” she demanded, finding that she had -indeed over-reached herself--that the nobleman’s principles were more -profoundly rooted than she had imagined--and that all her trouble was -likely to go unrewarded. - -“Follow me, I say: as you have done this amount of mischief, you shall -at least see it remedied to the utmost of my power;”--and the nobleman -burst from the room, literally dragging the old woman with him. - -In less than a minute they entered the apartment where Agnes was -anxiously--oh! most anxiously awaiting the presence of her mother;--and -the moment the door was opened, she darted forward to precipitate -herself into the arms of her parent. - -But, recognising Lord William Trevelyan, she stopped short with a cry -of mingled disappointment, surprise, and alarm; while an ashy pallor -overspread her countenance. - -“Reassure yourself, Miss Vernon--I am your friend, and a man of -honour!” were the encouraging words which Trevelyan hastened to address -to her. - -“And my mother?” said the young maiden, bending a look of earnest -appeal upon Mrs. Mortimer, who however shrank back in confusion. - -“Your mother is not here, Miss Vernon,” exclaimed the nobleman: -“neither does this woman know where to find her. An act of the greatest -imprudence has been committed in bringing you hither----” - -“Oh! what do I hear?” cried Agnes, clasping her hands. “Is this your -house, my lord? If so,” she added, with dignity succeeding grief, “I am -innocent of any intention to intrude: indeed, your lordship might full -well conceive that I should not have come hither of my own accord--oh! -no--not for worlds!” - -And tears rolled down the cheeks of the gentle girl for she felt -humiliated in the presence of the very man in whose eyes, if her young -heart had a preference, she would have fain appeared in another light. - -“Oh! Miss Vernon, it is you who do not understand me!” ejaculated Lord -William, advancing and taking her hand. “If I spoke of the imprudence -which had been committed, it was on your account only! For believe me -when I declare that I should be proud,--yes, and in the enjoyment of -an elysian happiness, could you enter this mansion to remain here--to -command here, with honour to yourself! But I will not avail myself of -this opportunity to urge a suit that I have already ventured to prefer, -and in the prosecution of which I unfortunately selected so improper an -agent.” - -As he uttered these words, he bent an indignant look upon Mrs. -Mortimer, who turned away petulantly and made for the door. - -“Stop, woman!” cried the young nobleman, hastening to detain her: “I -cannot yet part with you, intolerable as your presence has become to -me. “Miss Vernon,” he continued, again turning toward the maiden, whose -sense of humiliation had vanished, and who in her heart of hearts now -rejoiced in the conviction that Lord William Trevelyan was indeed as -noble in nature as he was in name,--“I need scarcely observe that -circumstances compel me to procure for you an asylum for the remainder -of the night as speedily as possible. You will permit me to conduct you -to the abode of a lady of my acquaintance,--a lady who will receive -you with open arms, and who will to-morrow--or rather, in a few hours’ -time--herself conduct you to the abode of your friends in Stamford -Street, or to your own home near Streatham.” - -With these words, the nobleman took the hand of the blushing Agnes, and -led her from the house to the vehicle that was still waiting. - -“Now, madam, you may depart,” he said sternly to Mrs. Mortimer, as soon -as he had seated himself in the cab, opposite to Agnes. - -The old woman turned sulkily away, muttering threats of vengeance; -but these were unheeded by the chivalrous Trevelyan, who gave hasty -instructions to the driver, and the vehicle rolled rapidly on towards -Kentish Town. - -Agnes could not do otherwise than appreciate all the delicacy of -Lord William’s conduct towards her; for it is no disparagement to -the extreme artlessness of her mind to state that she comprehended -wherefore he had compelled Mrs. Mortimer to wait until they had quitted -the house. But she could scarcely collect her bewildered ideas into -a settled state--so rapid was the whirl of incidents and adventures -through which she was doomed to pass on this memorable night. Had -she paused to reflect upon her position, with that seriousness which -it required, she would have requested the nobleman to conduct her -at once to the dwelling of the Misses Theobald: but he had deported -himself towards her with the generosity of a brother, and she acted -in obedience to his suggestions without waiting to analyse them. In a -word, she was full of confidence and ingenuous reliance in him; and she -felt as if she had suddenly found a stanch and sincere friend in the -midst of cruel difficulties and deep embarrassments. A dreamy kind of -repose stole over her as she was borne along in the vehicle: and yet -she not only heard the few remarks which her companion addressed to -her, but likewise answered them in a befitting manner. - -On his side Trevelyan was a prey to the strangest excitement; accident -having not only thus procured him the acquaintanceship of her whom -he loved so fondly, but having likewise placed them in a relative -position, establishing as it were a friendship--almost an intimacy. -Moreover, had he not touched her delicate white hand--touched it -gently, it is true, and without venturing to press it,--but still -touched it, and even held it for a few moments in his own? Had he -not discovered, too, that if she appeared surpassingly lovely when -seen from a distance, a nearer contemplation of her charms was only -calculated to enhance his admiration and strengthen his devotion? And, -lastly, had not the musical tones of her silver voice been breathed in -his hearing, wafting words that were addressed to himself, and making -every fibre in his heart vibrate deliciously to the dulcet sounds? -Yes--all this he felt and appreciated; and he was happy. - -[Illustration] - -The conversation that passed between them during the drive to Kentish -Town was slight, and chiefly confined to such observations as a -well-bred gentleman would address to a lady under circumstances of -embarrassment, and to such responses as those remarks were calculated -to elicit. The young nobleman was careful to avoid any allusion to -the letter which he had sent to Agnes, or to the circumstances that -had thus thrown them so singularly together; and she, understanding -his forbearance and perceiving his unwillingness to take the least -advantage of her peculiar position, felt her esteem--we might almost -say her _love_--increase in his favour. - -In about twenty minutes the cab stopped at the gate of a beautiful -villa; and as the orient sky was now flickering with the first -struggling beams of a summer sunrise, Agnes was enabled to obtain a -tolerably distinct view of the picturesque spot. The fresh breeze, -too, fanned her countenance, recalling the roses to her damask cheeks; -and as she threw back the shining masses of hair from her forehead, -Trevelyan’s eye could trace the blue veins so delicately marked beneath -the white skin of that fair and polished brow. - -On alighting at the entrance to the villa, Trevelyan and his beautiful -companion were both struck by the glimmering of lights which shone -through the divisions in the parlour shutters, and the rays of which, -peeping forth, struggled with sickly effect against the dawning of a -new day. Those lights, too, were evidently moving about; and it was -therefore clear that the inmates of the dwelling were astir even at -that early hour. - -The summons at the front door was almost immediately responded to by a -female servant, who, in reply to the young nobleman’s questions, stated -that Mrs. Sefton was at home, and had risen thus early in order to make -preparations for removal to a new house which she had taken in another -suburb of London. - -Trevelyan and Agnes were accordingly admitted forthwith; and the -domestic conducted them to the parlour, where Mrs. Sefton was busily -engaged in packing up her effects. She was much surprised when -she heard Trevelyan’s voice, and immediately apprehended that some -misfortune was in store for her--some evil tidings, perhaps, relative -to Sir Gilbert Heathcote. - -But scarcely had Agnes reached the threshold of the apartment, -when--the moment Mrs. Sefton turned to receive her visitors--the young -girl gave vent to an ejaculation of mingled astonishment and joy, and, -bounding forward, was in the next instant clasped in that lady’s arms. - -“My dearest--dearest mother!” - -“Agnes--my beloved child!” - -These were the words which explained to Trevelyan the scene that he now -witnessed. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXI. - -EXPLANATIONS. - - -The reader need scarcely be informed that if Lord William were amazed -at the discovery of the relationship subsisting between two ladies whom -he had hitherto deemed to be perfect strangers to each other, Mrs. -Sefton was not less astonished at having her daughter thus unexpectedly -introduced into her presence and at such an unseasonable hour. - -For a few minutes, however, she had no leisure for reflection,--joy -at once more being enabled to strain that beloved child to her bosom -triumphing over all other considerations. - -But when the first gush of feeling had somewhat subsided, a horrible -suspicion entered her mind. - -Could Lord William have seduced Agnes away from the care of those -friends to whom she was consigned?--could he have entertained the vile -and derogatory idea of using the villa as the receptacle for a young -creature whom he intended to make his mistress?--did he suppose that -Mrs. Sefton would lend herself to such an atrocious proceeding?--and -had he unconsciously brought the child to the house of the mother, -thinking to make a pander of the latter to the dishonour of the former? - -All these thoughts flashed with lightning rapidity to Mrs. Sefton’s -mind, as, disengaging herself from the embraces of Agnes, she turned -towards Lord William, and, with flashing eyes and quivering lips, -peremptorily demanded an explanation of the circumstances which had -rendered him the companion of her daughter at such an hour. - -Trevelyan instantly divined what was passing in the lady’s bosom; and, -perceiving at once the awkwardness of his position and the grounds of -her suspicions, he hastily gave such explanations as were satisfactory -to Mrs. Sefton, Agnes herself corroborating the main facts. - -“Pardon me, my dear friend,” said the now happy mother, -taking Trevelyan’s hand and pressing it fervently in token of -gratitude,--“pardon me if for a moment I entertained the most unjust -and derogatory suspicions.” - -“Mention them not, madam,” exclaimed Trevelyan warmly: “but let your -daughter seek that repose which she must so deeply need--and I will -then, as a man of honour, explain to you how I became interested in -her, and how it was that the Mrs. Mortimer whose name has already been -mentioned happened to bring her to my house.” - -A slight smile--almost of archness--played upon the lips of Mrs. -Sefton, as she turned towards Agnes,--a smile which seemed to intimate -that she already knew more than the young nobleman fancied, but was not -vexed with him in consequence of the facts thus known to her. - -“Come with me, dearest girl,” she said, addressing her daughter, “and I -will conduct you to a chamber where you may obtain a few hours’ repose. -You need not bid farewell to his lordship; for I have no doubt he will -honour us with his presence at breakfast--when you will see him again.” - -Agnes blushed and cast down her eyes--she scarcely knew why--as these -words met her ears;--and again the arch smile played upon her mother’s -lips. Trevelyan observed that there was some mystery, though not of a -disagreeable nature, in Mrs. Sefton’s manner; and in a moment--with -galvanic swiftness--the reminiscence of the tears upon the portrait and -the lost letter flashed to his mind. - -The ladies disappeared, and Trevelyan threw himself in a chair, to -muse upon the discovery which he had thus made, and which was well -calculated to afford him pleasure. Inasmuch as it was evident from Mrs. -Sefton’s manner and the significant words she had uttered relative to -the meeting at the breakfast-table, that she was _not_ inimical to his -suit. - -In a few minutes she returned to the room. - -“My dear madam,” said Trevelyan, rising and advancing to meet her, “you -already know that I love your daughter Agnes--that I adore her?” - -“And you have already divined how the letter which you must have -missed, came to be lost?” returned Mrs. Sefton, with a smile. - -“Yes, madam--and I likewise observed the trace of a tear upon the -portrait which I painted from memory,” continued the young nobleman. - -“Oh! then you can make allowance for the feelings of a mother!” -exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, with enthusiasm: “and you will forgive me that -act of apparent ingratitude--nay, of treachery--I mean the purloining -of a document so sacred as a sealed letter--and at a moment, too, when -I sought your aid, and you so generously afforded it?” - -“It is for me to implore your pardon as a mother for having dared to -address such a letter to your daughter,” said Trevelyan, with some -degree of embarrassment. - -“Then let us accord mutual forgiveness,” exclaimed the lady, extending -her hand, which was immediately pressed with the fervour of gratitude. -I am well aware that my conduct in taking that letter was improper to a -degree,” she continued, after a short pause: “but pray consider all the -circumstances.” - -“I do--I do,” interrupted Trevelyan; “and you have nothing to explain. -Oh! I am delighted at the discovery that the beautiful and much-loved -Agnes is your daughter--delighted also to think that, by the perusal -of that letter, you have acquired the certainty of the ardent and -honourable feelings which animate me with regard to her.” - -“And Agnes is deserving of your affection, my lord,” said Mrs. Sefton: -“I am convinced that she is in heart and soul all she appears to -be--ingenuousness, amiability, candour, and virtue!” - -“Oh! I am well assured of the value of that jewel which, in due time, -I shall implore you to bestow upon me!” exclaimed the generous and -impassioned young nobleman: “and I rejoice that you not only observed -the letter in my apartment, but that you also took it; for it has--” - -“It has enabled me to discover my child, whom I had fruitlessly sought -for years, and whom I longed to embrace!” added Mrs. Sefton, wiping -away the tears of joy that started to her eye-lashes. “Oh! my lord, you -may conceive my surprise--my joy, when I beheld that portrait in your -portfolio. Although I had never seen my child since her infancy, yet it -seemed as if a heavenly inspiration imparted to me the conviction that -I was then gazing on her likeness. At all events I murmured to myself, -while contemplating it, ‘_Such must Agnes now be: tall, beautiful, and -with innocence depicted in her countenance, even as this portrait._’ -And then I wept as I thought that the dear girl was lost to me for -ever--buried in some seclusion by _one_ who cruelly kept us separated! -I closed the portfolio--rose--and mechanically approached the mantel. -There I beheld the letter--and the address immediately rivetted my -attention. ‘_Miss Agnes Vernon!_’ Oh! yes--it was my own dear daughter -whose portrait I had been contemplating; and I was not mistaken! For -I may be allowed to say, without incurring the imputation of vanity, -that in the countenance of the portrait I traced my own lineaments; -and then--on discovering the letter--I felt assured that nature’s -promptings had not been misinterpreted by me! Because I knew that Agnes -passed under the name of Vernon: that fact I accidentally learnt years -ago, through my husband’s solicitor, who was permitted from time to -time to give me the assurance that my daughter was alive and in health. -You can now conceive, my dear friend, how strong were the emotions -which agitated within me, and which influenced me in seizing upon the -letter--tearing it open--and devouring its contents.” - -“And your first impression was doubtless one of indignation against -me for having dared thus to address your daughter?” said Lord William -Trevelyan. - -“Far from it, I can assure you!” returned Mrs. Sefton, in a tone of -the deepest sincerity. “I already knew enough of your character to be -well aware that you were honourable in principle and generous in heart! -and the whole tenour of the letter was respectful and delicate, though -earnest and decided,” added the lady, with a smile, as Trevelyan’s -cheeks were suffused with a deep blush. “Besides, my dear friend,” -she continued, in a serious tone, “I have acquainted you with the -history of the crushed hopes and the blighted affections of my own -early years--and I should be the last person in the world to raise an -obstacle in the way of a pure and honourable attachment on the part of -those in whom I felt interested.” - -“Then you approve of my suit in respect to your daughter?” exclaimed -Trevelyan, his handsome countenance becoming animated with joy; “and -you will not refuse me her hand?” - -“When she attains her twenty-first year, my lord,” replied Mrs. Sefton, -in a solemn tone. “Until then I dare not dispose of her hand in -marriage. She is now nineteen----” - -“Two years to wait!” exclaimed Trevelyan, mournfully: “and in the mean -time how many adverse circumstances may occur to separate us!” - -“Yours is the age when Hope smiles most brightly,” said Mrs. Sefton; -“and if your affection for my daughter be as strong as you represent -it, believe me, my dear friend, that time will not impair--but rather -strengthen and confirm it.” - -“Were years and years to elapse, ere Agnes could become mine, I -should not love her the less!” exclaimed Lord William. “But this may -not be so with her: indeed, I have no reason to hope--much less any -assurance--that she in any degree reciprocates my passion.” - -“Agnes will not prove indifferent to your lordship’s merits,” said Mrs. -Sefton, encouragingly. “But we must postpone any farther conversation -on this subject until another occasion. Behold the confusion that -prevails in the house,” she continued, in a more cheerful tone, as she -glanced round the room at the various boxes and packages on which she -had been busied when the arrival of Trevelyan and her daughter had -compelled her to desist from her occupation. “I am about to remove this -morning to a beautiful little villa which I have taken at Bayswater. -By those means I hope to destroy all trace of my new abode, in respect -to those who might seek to tear Agnes from my arms. But I have the law -with me:--yes, the law is in my favour,” she added, in an emphatic -tone; “and I will not surrender up my daughter to _him_----” - -She checked herself, and hastily advancing to the window, opened the -shutters. - -It was now quite light; and, having extinguished the candles, Mrs. -Sefton returned to her task of placing various valuable effects in a -box. Trevelyan volunteered his assistance, which was accepted; for -circumstances had placed him and the lady on a footing of the most -friendly intimacy together. - -“I received your note on my return last evening,” said Mrs. Sefton, -after a pause; “and I regretted much to find that you had obtained no -clue to the place where Sir Gilbert Heathcote is confined.” - -“But you must remember, my dear madam, that no time has been lost,” -observed Trevelyan. “It was only yesterday morning that we acquired -the knowledge of Sir Gilbert’s real position; and I have employed my -valet Fitzgeorge, who is an intelligent and faithful man, to obtain an -interview with Green, Heathcote’s clerk, and bribe him to serve us. -From the specimen of the fellow’s character which we had yesterday -morning in this very room, I entertain but little doubt of Fitzgeorge’s -success.” - -“God grant that it may be so!” exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, fervently. “And -if you succeed in discovering the den where Sir Gilbert is confined, -how do you intend to proceed?” - -“Still by artifice, my dear madam. We must fight that bad man, James -Heathcote, with his own weapons----” - -“Oh! think you not, my lord, that our unfortunate friend is hemmed -round with all imaginable precautions to prevent his flight?” demanded -Mrs. Sefton. - -“Doubtless,” answered Trevelyan: “but the janitors and dependants of a -lunatic-asylum are as accessible as other people to the influence of -gold.” - -“I now more than ever, if possible, desire the restoration of Sir -Gilbert,” said Mrs. Sefton: then, after a pause, she added in a low -and peculiar tone, “I have many--many strange things yet to tell you, -Lord William: but the present is not the most fitting occasion. In -a few days I will explain every thing--yes, everything,” she said, -emphatically; “and thenceforth there will be no secrets between you and -me.” - -The lady again applied herself to the task of preparing for her -removal; and the young nobleman assisted her with as much kindliness -of manner and good-tempered alacrity as if he were her brother, or -already her son-in-law. In this manner the hours passed away until the -time-piece struck nine, when Agnes descended to the breakfast which -was now served up. A messenger was despatched to the Misses Theobald -to give them an assurance of the young maiden’s safety; and in the -course of the day the mother and daughter, accompanied by Lord William, -removed to the beautiful villa prepared for the ladies’ reception at -Bayswater. - -Lord William remained with them until the evening, when he took his -leave--but not without observing that pleasure beamed in the eyes of -Agnes as he intimated his intention of becoming a frequent visitor at -the villa. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXII. - -LAURA MORTIMER’S NEW INTRIGUES. - - -We must now return to Laura Mortimer, whom we left in Paris, and of -whom we have lost sight for some time. - -It was in the evening of the fourth day after the incidents recorded -in the preceding chapter, that Laura was seated in her handsome -drawing-room, wrapped up in deep meditation. - -Her thoughts were not, however, of a disagreeable nature;--for ever and -anon the fire of triumph flashed from her fine eyes, and her rich moist -lips were wreathed into a smile. - -She held a book open in her hand; but her gaze was fixed upon the -ceiling as she lay, rather than sate, on the voluptuous cushions of the -purple velvet ottoman. - -The windows were open, and a gentle evening breeze, which had succeeded -the stifling heat of a Parisian summer-day, fanned her countenance -and wantoned with the luxuriant ringlets that floated over her naked -shoulders,--those shoulders so white, so plump, so exquisitely shaped! - -The perfumes of choice flowers and the odour of ravishing oriental -scents rendered the atmosphere fragrant: gold and silver fish were -disporting in an immense crystal globe which stood upon a marble table -between the casements--and two beautiful canaries were carolling in a -superb cage suspended in one of those open windows. - -On the table near which Laura was placed, stood several crystal dishes -containing the finest fruit that the Parisian market could yield,--the -luscious pine, the refreshing melon, strawberries of extraordinary size -and exquisite flavour, cherries of the richest red, and mulberries of -the deepest purple. - -A bottle of champagne stood in a cooler filled with ice; and in the -middle of the table was a superb nosegay of flowers. - -The entire appearance of the room and its appointments was luxurious -in the extreme,--comfort being combined with elegance, and the means -of enjoyment distributed with taste;--while she--the mistress of the -place--the presiding genius of the scene--was pillowed voluptuously -upon the immense velvet cushions. So complete was the abandonment of -her attitude, in her deep reverie, that she seemed ten hundred times -more charming than when her artifice devised a thousand studied graces -in order to effect a conquest and captivate a lover. - -One of her naked arms, plump, white, and beautifully formed, lay -across her person as the hand held the book, on which the eyes rested -not, and against the dark binding of which the taper fingers were -set off in the dazzling purity of their complexion and the rosy tint -of the almond-shaped nails: the other arm hung down negligently--not -quite straight, but gently rounded--the fingers of that hand playing -mechanically with the ottoman’s golden fringe that swept the thick -carpet. One of her legs lay stretched completely upon the ottoman: the -other hung over the side, displaying the well-formed foot, the delicate -ankle, and the robust swell of the calf. More voluptuously modelled -than Venus, but with all the elegance attributed to the form of that -fabled divinity,--handsome as Juno, without the stern imperiousness -that characterised the queen of heaven,--and with that subdued -nobility of demeanour which Diana, when out of sight of her attendant -huntresses, might have been supposed to wear,--Laura Mortimer united -in her own person the most fascinating of the charms belonging to the -three principal goddesses of heathen worship. - -But let us endeavour to ascertain the subject of her thoughts, as she -lay thus wrapped up in a deep reverie. - -“Fortune appears resolved to favour me, and I accept the auspicious -omen with joy. The Marquis is in my power--is my slave--inextricably -shackled by my silken chains! Four short days have been sufficient -to accomplish this victory. When first introduced to him in the -Champs Elysées, I saw that he regarded me with attention--nay, with -admiration; and I that moment signalled him out as the man who is -destined to place me in a proud position--to render me independent of -Charles Hatfield’s hated father! The evening before last I met him -for the second time: this was at the party given by my music-master. -The nobleman was almost instantly by my side, as soon as I made my -appearance; and I knew full well how to gain his favour. When handsome -young men approached me, I received them coldly, and continued my -discourse with the Marquis in a more animated and friendly style -than before. I even hinted to him--or rather suffered him to believe -that it was a relief to escape from the frivolities of the average -run of conversation, in the indulgence of discourse on intellectual -subjects. I saw that the old man was flattered--that he thought highly -of me: in a word, I secured his esteem as I had already acquired his -admiration. We sate next to each other at supper; and he lavished all -his attentions upon me--attentions which I accepted with an air as if -they came from a young and handsome gallant. The Marquis handed me to -my carriage, and solicited permission to call. I signified an assent -with an ingenuousness that could not possibly have seemed affected; and -he squeezed my hand slightly as he bade me farewell. On the following -afternoon he called: this was yesterday--and he remained a long -time. Two hours passed--doubtless like two minutes to him: and I was -completely triumphant. Never did I appear to such advantage: my glass -told me that I was radiantly beautiful--and I could observe full well -that my manner--my conversation--and the delicate artifices I called -to aid, were pre-eminently successful. The old man was ready to fall -upon his knees and worship me: he was in that humour when he would -have laid his whole fortune at my feet. He appeared to be longing to -throw his arms around my neck, and exclaim, ‘_Laura, I adore you!_’ -But when I had excited him to the highest possible pitch, I suddenly -directed his attention to some subject of comparative indifference; -and thus did I play with his feelings during two long hours. He went -away half crazy--dazzled, bewildered, not knowing what to think or -how to act--intoxicated with sensual passions mingling with the -purer sentiments of a profound admiration and a cordial esteem. Then -this morning he called again, and I made him become my companion at -luncheon. I affected to be rejoiced that he had thus unexpectedly -dropped in, as I had previously felt low-spirited and dull. He seemed -charmed that his presence was calculated to cheer me: It was a delicate -compliment paid to his conversational powers--and he was flattered -and pleased. Oh! how admirably did I wind myself, as it were, around -him during the three hours that he remained with me this morning: how -successfully did I insinuate myself, as one may say, into his very -soul;--not seizing upon his heart by a sudden attack--but gaining -possession of it by means the more sure because so stealthy,--not -carrying that heart by storm--but gradually and imperceptibly enmeshing -it in snares and toils whence it never can escape, so long as my -real character shall remain a mystery to him. Yes--and this morning, -too, was he not a thousand times on the point of falling upon his -knees, and exclaiming,‘_Laura, I adore you!_’ But still I tantalised -him--still I worked him up to the highest possible pitch of excitement, -and then suddenly discouraged him by some word or gesture that threw -a coldness on all I had before said, and which yet would admit of -no positive interpretation so as to render him hopeless altogether. -And now he is to return again--this evening,--to return, by his own -solicitation;--and this evening--yes--this evening,” thought Laura, her -lips wreathing into a smile of triumph,--“he _shall_ fall down at my -feet and exclaim, ‘_Laura, I adore you!_’” - -Thus ran the meditations of this dangerous woman,--so strong in the -consciousness of her almost superhuman beauty--so confident in the -power of her matchless charms and in the witchery of her guileful -tongue! - -“Yes--four days will have been sufficient to reduce the proud English -noble to the condition of a captive kneeling at my feet.” she -continued, in her silent but triumphant reverie. “What other woman -in the world can thus effect a conquest with such amazing rapidity? -The tigress hunts for her prey--pursuing the affrighted deer through -bramble and through brake--by the margin of the lake in the depths -of the forest--amidst the trackless mazes of the wild woods,--a -long--tedious--and fatiguing chase, with the possibility of escape for -the intended victim after all. But the boa-constrictor fixes its eyes -upon its prey--fascinates it--renders it incapable of retreat--compels -it even to advance nearer and nearer to its mouth--plays with -it--tantalizes it--sets every feeling and every emotion into fluttering -agitation--and even when about to gorge it, licks it over with his -caresses. And thus do I secure my prey! I am the anaconda amongst -women: none whom I choose to make my victim can escape from the -influence of my witchery--the sphere of my fascination! With me it is -no long, tedious, and wearisome chase: ’tis instantaneous capture and -an easy triumph!” - -And again the peculiar smile--half haughtiness, half -sweetness--returned to the lips of the peerless beauty, who felt -herself to be ten thousand times more powerful in the possession of her -transcendent charms, than an Amazonian Queen clothed in armour of proof -from head to heel. - -Suddenly the bell at the outer door of her suite of apartments -announced the coming of a visitor; and in a few moments the Marquis of -Delmour was ushered into the room. - -Laura had already assumed a sitting posture; and she now rose to -receive the English nobleman. - -“Good evening, charming Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, taking her -hand and gently touching it with his lips: then, leading her to the -ottoman, and placing himself at a short distance from her, he looked at -her tenderly, observing, “You perceive that I am punctual to the hour -at which I was to make my appearance according to the kind permission -you granted me.” - -“Your lordship is most generous thus to condescend to enliven an hour -that would otherwise be passed in loneliness by me,” said Laura, -bending upon him all the glory of her fine bright eyes and revealing -the splendour of her brilliant teeth. - -“Beautiful, intellectual, and agreeable as you are, Miss Mortimer,” -observed the nobleman, “it is utterly impossible that you can feel -yourself indebted to an old man like me for the recreation of a leisure -hour. You would only need to throw open your drawing-rooms to the -_élite_ of Paris,to be surrounded by admiring guests.” - -“And what if I prefer an hour of intellectual conversation to an entire -evening of empty formalities, ceremonial frivolities, and the inane -routine of fashionable _réunions_?” asked Laura, with an affectation of -candour which seemed most real--most natural. - -“You possess a mind the strength and soundness of which surprise -me,” exclaimed the Marquis of Delmour, enthusiastically. “How is it -that, rich and beautiful, young and courted, as you are, you can have -taken so just a view of the world,--that you have learnt to prefer -solid enjoyments to artificial pleasures,--and that you can so well -discriminate between the _real_ on which the gay and giddy close their -eyes, and the _ideal_ or the _unreal_ which they so much worship?” - -“You would ask me, my lord, I presume, wherefore I dislike that -turmoil of fashionable life which brings one in contact with persons -who flatter in a meaningless manner, and who believe that a woman is -best pleased with him who most skilfully gilds his _pretty nothings_. -It is, my lord, because I do not estimate the world according to the -usual standard,--because I am not dazzled by outside glitter and -external show. If an officer in the army be introduced to me, I am not -captivated by his splendid epaulets and his waving plumes: I wait to -hear his discourse before I form _my_ estimate of his character.” - -“Then neither youth nor riches will prove the principal qualifications -of him who shall be fortunate enough to win your hand?” said the -Marquis, fixing his eyes in an impassioned manner upon the syren. - -“Oh! you would speak to me upon the topic of marriage!” exclaimed -Laura, laughing gaily. “To tell your lordship the truth, I should be -sorry to surrender up my freedom beyond all possibility of release, to -any man in existence.” - -“What!” ejaculated the old nobleman: “do you mean me to infer that you -will never marry?” - -“I have more than half made up my mind to that resolution,” responded -Laura, casting down her eyes and forcing a blush to her cheeks. - -“Never marry!” cried the Marquis, in unfeigned surprise. “And what if -you happened to fall in love with some fine, handsome, eligible young -man?” - -“In the first place it is by no means necessary that a man should be -fine, handsome, or young for me to love him,” answered Laura, as if in -the most ingenuous way in the world; “and when I _do_ love, it is not -a whit the more imperious that the person or the priest should rivet -my hand to that of the object of my affections. It is within the power -of man to unite hands--and that is a mockery: but God alone can unite -hearts--and that is a solemn and sacred compact that should be effected -in the sight of heaven only.” - -“I scarcely understand you, beautiful and mysterious being!” exclaimed -the Marquis, drawing nearer to the syren, who did not appear to notice -the movement. - -“I am aware that some of my notions are not altogether in accordance -with those of society in general,” observed Laura, with an affectation -of reserve and diffidence: “but since the conversation has taken this -turn, I do not hesitate to admit that I do hold peculiar opinions with -respect to marriage.” - -“You would have me understand, Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, -“that were you to find your affections enchained by some deserving -individual, you would not hesitate to join your destinies to his, -without the intervention of the Church to cement the union.” - -“Your lordship has interpreted my meaning in language so delicate as -to be almost ambiguous,” observed Laura. “And yet why should the truth -be thus wrapped up in verbiage? I do not entertain opinions which I am -afraid to look in the face. God forbid! In a word, then, I would ten -thousand times rather become the mistress of the man I loved, than the -wife of him whom I abhorred;--and in loving the former, and with him -loving me, is it not that union of hearts which, as I ere now said, -should be effected only in the sight of heaven?” - -“And have you ever yet loved?” asked the nobleman, in a tone of -profound emotion, as he gazed long and ardently upon the splendid -countenance whereon the light from the casements now fell with a -Rembrandt effect, delineating the faultless profile against the -obscurity that had already begun to occupy the end of the room most -remote from the windows. - -“Oh! my lord, that is a question which you can only ask me when we come -to know each other better!” exclaimed Laura, after a few moments’ pause. - -“And yet I already feel as if I had known you for as many years as our -acquaintance numbers days,” said the Marquis. “Methought yesterday--and -this morning too--that a species of intimacy--a kind of impromptu -friendship had sprung up between us; and now you are somewhat cold -towards me--your manner is not the same----” - -“If I have been guilty of any want of courtesy towards your lordship, -I should be truly--deeply grieved,” exclaimed Laura, surveying the -nobleman with well affected astonishment at the accusation uttered -against her. - -“Oh! use not such chilling language, Laura--Miss Mortimer, I mean!” -cried the old nobleman, half inclined to throw himself at her feet and -implore her to take compassion upon him. “But I an mad--I am insane -to appeal to you thus!” he continued, in a species of rage against -himself. “How can I suppose that the society of an old man like me is -agreeable to a young and beautiful creature such as you!--how can I -give way to those glorious but fatal delusions that have occupied my -brain for the last forty-eight hours! Oh! Miss Mortimer--would that I -had never seen you!” - -And the old nobleman, covering his face with his hands, literally -sobbed like a youthful lover quarrelling with an adored mistress. - -“My lord--my lord, what have I done to offend you?” demanded Laura, as -if deeply excited; and, seizing his hands, she drew them away from his -countenance, well aware that the contact of her soft and warm flesh -would make the blood that age had partially chilled, circulate with -speed and heat in his veins. - -“If you had attempted my life,” replied the Marquis, with fervid -emphasis, “I should rejoice at a deed that would elicit such kindness -from you as you manifest towards me now!” - -And thus speaking, he raised her hands to his lips and covered them -with kisses. - -“Tell me--how did I offend you?” she asked, in a voice that was melting -and musical even to ravishment. - -“Oh! let us think not of what has passed,” he exclaimed: “but bless me -with the assurance that you can entertain a sentiment of friendship for -the old man!” - -“I would rather possess your friendship, my lord, than that of the -handsomest and wealthiest young gentleman whom we met at the party -the other evening,” responded the artful woman, still abandoning her -hands to the Marquis. “Did you not observe that I was pleased with -your attentions--that I refused to dance in order that I might remain -seated next to you, and listening to your conversation--that when the -gay moths of fashion approached me with their fulsome compliments, I -exhibited signs of impatience, and by my coldness compelled them to -retreat--that I gave no encouragement to them in any way----” - -“Yes--yes,” interrupted the enraptured Marquis: “I noticed all -_that_--and were I a young man I should have felt myself justified in -addressing you in the language of passion--aye, of ardent and sincere -affection. But--although such are indeed my sentiments towards you--I -perceive all the folly and ridicule of daring to give utterance to them -in your presence: yet God knows that I am ready to lay my fortune at -your feet--and could I offer to place the coronet of a marchioness upon -your brow----” - -“Were you in the position to do so, I should refuse it,” said Laura, -emphatically. “All the rest I might listen to----” - -“Then you are aware that I am married?” interrupted the nobleman, -fixing an earnest and enquiring gaze upon her beauteous countenance. - -“Rumour declares as much,” replied Laura; “and it likewise avers that -you are not happy in your matrimonial connexion. I pity you from the -bottom of my heart--and I behold in the fact itself a new argument -in support of my own peculiar tenets relative to marriage-ties;--for -assuredly you are endowed with qualities calculated to render a woman -happy--or I am deeply, deeply deceived.” - -“Ah! It is a sad tale--and I dare not venture upon the narration now,” -said the Marquis, with a profound sigh. “But should our acquaintance -continue--as I ardently hope it may--I will some day give you the -fullest and most ample explanations. And you yourself, charming -creature--is there not some mystery attached to you? How happens it -that at your age you should be so well acquainted with the world?--how -is it that you seem free to follow the bent of your own inclinations, -uncontrolled even by your mother? For rumour declares that you have a -mother alive----” - -“I am independent of her in a pecuniary point of view, my lord,” -interrupted Laura; “and I am determined to consult my own ideas of -happiness, instead of adopting the standard of enjoyment and pleasure -established by the fashionable world.” - -“Would to heavens that it lay in my power to ensure your happiness--or -even to contribute to it!” exclaimed the Marquis, gazing upon her -with admiration and ardent passion. “Long years have elapsed since I -encountered any woman who inspired me with even half the interest that -I feel in you; and it seems to me that I become young again when in -your sweet society.” - -“And, on my side,” answered Laura, casting down her eyes and assuming -a bashful demeanour, “I do not hesitate to admit that I experience -greater enjoyment from your conversation than from that of any other -nobleman or gentleman with whom I am acquainted.” - -“Just now, my sweet Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, approaching still -nearer to her, and speaking in a tone that was low and tremulous with -emotion,--“just now you declared that ‘_all the rest you might listen -to_’----” - -“And I do not attempt to revoke the admission that thus fell from -my lips,” murmured the designing young woman, turning a glance of -half-timidity and half-fondness upon the old nobleman, who, in spite -of a strong and vigorous intellect, was rendered childish and plunged -as it were into dotage by the fascinating--ravishing influence of the -syren-enchantress. - -“What am I to understand by those words?” he asked, in an ecstacy of -delight. “Oh! is it possible that you can become something more to the -old man than a mere acquaintance--something more than even a friend----” - -“I could wish to retain your good opinion--your esteem for ever!” said -Laura, now turning upon him a countenance radiant with hope and joy. - -“It is scarcely possible--I am dreaming--’tis a delicious delusion--a -heavenly vision!” murmured the Marquis in broken sentences,--for he was -dazzled by the transcendant beauty of the houri who seemed to encourage -him in the aspirations which he had formed. - -“Is it, then, so extraordinary that I should have learnt to love one -who is so kind--so generous-hearted--so intellectual as yourself?” -asked Laura, leaning towards him so that her fragrant breath fanned his -countenance and her forehead for an instant touched his own. - -“Great heaven! Is it possible that so much happiness awaits me?” cried -the Marquis, scarcely able to believe his eyes or his ears: then, after -gazing upon her for a few instants with all the rapturous ardour of a -youthful lover, he sank upon his knees before her, exclaiming, “_Laura, -I adore you!_” - -The designing woman’s triumph was complete: the Marquis was -inextricably entangled in her snares;--and, throwing her arms around -his neck, she murmured, “Oh! it is an honour as well as a joy to -possess your love!” - -Then the old man covered the charming young woman’s countenance with -kisses; and for several minutes not a word was spoken between them. -But at length the Marquis, who could scarcely believe that he had -won a prize the possession of which all the noblest, handsomest, and -wealthiest young men in Paris would envy him, began to speak upon the -course which it would be prudent for them to adopt. Laura at once gave -him to understand that she should experience no sentiment of shame in -appearing as his mistress; and she undertook--as well indeed she might -do--to reconcile her mother to this connexion which she had formed. - -“Let us then return to England without delay,’ said the Marquis. “The -business which has brought me to Paris is now in such a position that -an agent may manage it for me. But tell me--is your mother dependent -upon you?” - -“Entirely,” answered Laura, anticipating the course which her noble -lover was about to adopt. - -“And your fortune is doubtless large?” he continued, interrogatively. - -“It is not nearly so large as rumour has alleged,” was the reply. -“Still it is a handsome competency for one person.” - -“Then, as there shall be nothing having even the slightest appearance -of selfishness in my attachment towards you, Laura,” resumed the -nobleman, “you must immediately assign all your property to your -mother; and I will at once--yea, at once--give you a proof of the -boundless devotion with which you have inspired me. Permit me the use -of your desk for a few moments.” - -Laura rang the bell, and ordered Rosalie to bring writing materials; -and when this was done, the marquis seated himself at the table and -wrote something upon a sheet of paper. He next penned a letter, which -he folded up, sealed, and addressed; and, turning towards Laura, he -said, “This draught, beloved girl, is for the sum of sixty thousand -pounds, payable at sight at my bankers’ in London. This letter, which -you will have the kindness to send through the post to-morrow, is to -advise them of the fact of such a cheque having been given, and to -prepare them to meet it, so that there may be no hesitation in paying -such a large amount. For it will be my joy and delight to enrich you, -my dearest Laura; so that the old man may to some extent repay the -immense obligation under which he is placed by the possession of such -a heart as thine. I would not have you remain wealthy through your own -resources: henceforth you must owe every thing to me--for if you cannot -be my wife in name, you shall at least be the sharer of my fortune, as -you have consented to be the partner of my destinies.” - -“Your generosity, my dear Marquis, only binds me the more closely to -you,” exclaimed Laura, lavishing upon the old man the most exciting -and apparently fervent caresses. “At the same time permit me to -remind you that there is nothing selfish in that affection which so -suddenly sprang up in my bosom towards you: because I am no needy -adventuress--no intriguing fortune-hunter,--and you are well aware -that many a French nobleman would be proud to lay his title at my feet, -were I disposed to decorate my brow with a coronet. My father--who, as -you have doubtless heard, accumulated some money in India--left me well -provided for; and that fortune I shall cheerfully abandon to my mother, -preferring to remain dependent on yourself.” - -“Ah! your father dwelt a long time in India!” exclaimed the Marquis, as -if struck by a sudden idea. “Is it possible, then, that I could have -encountered your mother in England? But, no--that woman could not have -been the parent of such a lovely, charming creature as yourself!” - -“To whom do you allude, my lord?” demanded Laura, now seized with the -apprehension that her mother might be known to the wealthy lover whom -she had succeeded in ensnaring, and whom she intended to fleece of the -greater portion of his fortune. - -“It was but a momentary thought--it exists no longer in my mind, -dearest,” responded the nobleman, who, as he gazed upon the bright and -splendid being before him, felt an ineffable disgust at having even for -an instant associated her in any way with the loathsome old hag to whom -he was alluding. “The fact is,” he continued, “I met a certain female -in London--or rather, in the neighbourhood of London--a short time -ago--indeed, just before I left England; and this woman bore the name -of Mortimer.” - -“It is not altogether an uncommon one,” observed Laura, maintaining -an unruffled countenance, though her heart palpitated with continued -apprehension. - -“The singularity of the coincidence is that the female to whom I am -alluding announces herself as the widow of a General-officer who had -died in India,” resumed the Marquis. - -“My lamented father was a merchant,” said Laura. - -“Then of course there can be no identity in that case,” continued the -nobleman. “Besides, having an intimate acquaintance with all military -matters--as I myself held the post of Secretary at War many years ago, -and have since taken a deep interest in that department--I am enabled -to state that no General-officer of the name of Mortimer has recently -died in India.” - -“The woman, then, of whom you am speaking, was an impostress?” said -Laura, interrogatively. - -“I have little doubt of it,” answered the marquis. “But let us not -dwell upon a subject so perfectly indifferent to us. We were talking of -our plans. Will it suit you, dearest Laura, to quit Paris to-morrow, or -the day after at latest?” - -“To-morrow, if you will,” the young woman hastened to reply: for she -now trembled lest her mother should suddenly return and perhaps prove, -though unintentionally, a marplot to all the plans which her intriguing -disposition had conceived. - -“To-morrow, then, be it,” said the Marquis. “At noon I shall call for -you in my travelling-chariot. We will return by easy stages to London; -and, on our arrival in the English capital, the handsomest mansion that -money can procure shall be fitted up with all possible speed for your -abode.” - -“I care not for a splendid dwelling in London itself,” replied Laura. -“Rather let me have some beautiful and retired villa in the suburbs, -where you can visit me at your leisure, and where we can pass the hours -together without intrusion on the part of a host of visitors.” - -“Your ideas on this subject concur with mine,” observed the Marquis, -enchanted with the belief that Laura intended to retire from the -fashionable world and devote herself wholly to him. “The seclusion of -a charming villa will be delightful; and I think I can promise,” he -added with a smile, “that the said villa will have more of my company -than my town mansion. But I shall now take my departure--although with -reluctance: it is however necessary for me to make certain preparations -this evening, as I am to leave Paris thus unexpectedly to-morrow. For a -few hours, then, my Laura, adieu--adieu!” - -The old man embraced the young woman with the most -unfeigned--unaffected fondness; and as his arms were cast about her -neck, and he felt her bosom heaving against his chest, he longed to -implore her to allow him to remain with her until the morning--for -the dalliance and the toyings he had already enjoyed had inflamed -his blood, and he aspired to be completely happy without delay. But -he feared lest he should offend her by any manifestations of sensual -longings; for he flattered himself that the connexion which had -commenced between them had its origin in sentiment on her side. He -accordingly withdrew--but reluctantly--from her embrace; and took -his departure, promising to call for her punctually at noon on the -following day. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXIII. - -AN UNEXPECTED VISIT AND A DREADED ARRIVAL. - - -The moment Laura heard the outer door close behind the Marquis of -Delmour, she exclaimed aloud, “I have triumphed! I have triumphed! -He is in my power--he fell at my feet--he said, ‘_Laura, I adore -you!_’--and the proof of his utter credulity is here--here!” - -Thus speaking, she clutched the draught for sixty thousand -pounds--devoured it with her eyes--and then secured it in her -writing-desk. - -“Yes: sixty thousand pounds!” she murmured to herself, as she resumed -her voluptuously reclining position upon the ottoman;--“sixty thousand -pounds--gained with but little trouble and in a short time! It would -scarcely matter if I never touched another piece of gold from his -purse; for I am now independent of him--of the hated Hatfields--of -all the world! But I will not abandon my doating English Marquis in a -hurry: I will not cast aside a nobleman who is so generous--so rich--so -confiding! No--no: he will be worth two hundred thousand pounds to -me;--and then--yes--_then_, I may espouse a peer of high title! My -fortune is assured--my destiny is within the range of prophecy. I have -taken a tremendous step this evening: an hour has seen me grow suddenly -rich--already the possessor of sixty thousand pounds! Thanks to this -more than human beauty of mine--thanks to that witchery of manner which -I know so well how to assume--and thanks also to that fascinating -influence wherewith I can invest my language at will, the Marquis -has become my slave. Thus does the strong-minded--the resolute--the -intellectual man succumb to woman, when she dazzles him with her -loveliness and bewilders him with her guile. Sixty thousand pounds now -own me as their mistress! ’Tis glorious to possess great wealth: but -’tis an elysian happiness--a burning joy--a proud triumph to feel that -I am released from the thraldom of those Hatfields--or rather from -a state of dependence upon the father of him whom I lately loved so -well! And my mother, too--my selfish, intriguing, deceitful old mother, -who has ever hoped to make a profitable market of my charms, and hold -despotic sway over me at the same time,--she is no longer necessary to -me--and I may in a moment assert my independence should she dare to -attempt to tyrannise again. The mad old fool! to fancy that she will -succeed in discovering Torrens,--or, even if she did, to hope that -she could compel him to disgorge the treasures which he has perilled -his life here and his soul hereafter to gain! She will return to me -penniless--totally dependent upon me; and I shall allow her a small -income on condition that she locates herself in some obscure spot, -whence her machinations and her intrigues cannot reach me. Not for -worlds would I have her fastened to my apron-strings in London--that -London whither I am about to return, and where I may yet hope to punish -that Mr. Hatfield who for a time so savagely triumphed over me! No--my -mother must be forced into seclusion; her notoriety of character would -ruin me. Constantly incurring the chance of being discovered as the -Mrs. Slingsby of former years--certain to be recognised as the Mrs. -Fitzhardinge who was arrested on suspicion of being concerned in -the murder of the old miser--and having evidently entered into some -intrigue which has brought her under the notice of the Marquis of -Delmour, she can no longer be allowed to associate with me! _Her_ day -has gone by--_mine_ has scarcely begun.” - -[Illustration] - -Laura--the beauteous, wanton,unprincipled Laura--had reached this point -in her musings, when she was startled by an unusually violent ringing -at the front door bell; and in a few moments a gentleman burst into the -room, his impatience having urged him to cast away all ceremony and -dispense with the introductory agency of Rosalie, who had uttered an -ejaculation of surprise on beholding him. - -“Captain Barthelma!” cried Laura, in an astonishment which even -surpassed that of her abigail. - -“Yes--my angel: It is I!” exclaimed the enthusiastic young Italian, as, -bounding towards Laura, he caught her in his arms. - -His lips were instantaneously fastened to her ripe mouth; and, -remembering the night of love and pleasure which she had passed with -him, she experienced no vexation at his sudden and most unexpected -appearance. - -“Can you pardon me for this intrusion?” he demanded, at length -loosening her from his embrace, but seating himself closely by her side -on the ottoman and taking her hands in his own; “can you pardon me, I -ask, adorable woman?” he repeated, gazing upon her in boundless and -passionate admiration. - -“It seems that it were useless to be offended with you,” she replied, -smiling with voluptuous sweetness. - -“Oh! then you will not upbraid me--you will not reproach me with having -broken the solemn promise that I made you to depart and seek to see -you no more in Paris?” he exclaimed. “But even if you were inclined to -be angry, Laura, it could not in justice be upon me that your wrath -would fall. You must blame your own matchless beauty--you must take -all the fault unto yourself. I feel that I cannot live without you. -Ever since we parted, my brain has been in a ceaseless ferment--my soul -a prey to incessant excitement. By day and by night has your lovely -image been before me: by day and by night have I fancied that I heard -your voice pouring forth the most eloquent music:--I have dreamt that -your lips, breathing odours and bathed with sweets, were pressed to -mine:--and your looks, beaming love, and happiness, and joy, have ever -been fixed on mine! Oh! my imagination has maintained me in a condition -of such pleasing pain that I have been in a species of restless -elysium,--a giddy and sometimes agonising whirl, although the scene was -paradise! At length I could endure this state no longer: and when at a -considerable distance from Paris, on the road to Italy, I suddenly and -secretly quitted the service of the Grand Duke----” - -“Oh! what madness--what insanity!” exclaimed Laura, grieved that the -handsome young Castelcicalan should have made so deep a sacrifice for -her--inasmuch as his generous devotion had not only flattered her -pride, but also touched her soul. - -“It may be madness--it may be insanity,” repeated Lorenzo Barthelma, -with impassioned warmth: “but those words must in that case be taken -only as other terms for the deepest--sincerest--and most ardent -devotion. Were I a beggar on the face of the earth, I should have acted -in the same manner; because I should have come to you--I should have -thrown myself at your feet--I should have implored you to render me -happy,--and in return I should have toiled from morning to night to -make up for the deficiency of my means.” - -“Generous Lorenzo!” exclaimed Laura, speaking with more sincerity than -had characterised her words for years. - -“Ah! then you are somewhat touched by my devotion, angelic woman!” -cried the handsome young officer, drawing her still more closely -towards him, and passing his arm round her slender waist. “But happily -I am no pauper--fortunately I am _not_ dependent upon my own exertions. -When I was with you before, my adorable Laura, I told you that I -possessed a competency; and I then offered to link my destinies with -yours for ever. Now my circumstances have materially altered--and -I rejoice in the fact! For the French papers of this day contain -intelligence of the death of my cousin, the Count of Carignano, at -Montoni; and by that unexpected event I have succeeded alike to his -title and his princely revenues.” - -“Oh! my beloved Lorenzo,” exclaimed Laura, now giving way to all -that tenderness towards him which was really in accordance with her -inclinations, but which her more selfish interests would have prompted -her to subdue and stifle had not this last announcement met her ear: -“Oh! my beloved Lorenzo,” she cried, pressing closer to him, so that -he could feel her bosom throbbing like the undulations of a mighty -tide--for she was now powerfully excited, alike morally and sensually: -“how can I reward--how recompense this generosity on your part?” - -“By becoming my wife--yes, my wife, Laura--if you will,” returned the -enraptured young man. “For you know not how I love you--how intense is -the passion with which you have inspired me. I am blind and deaf to -all--everything, save your beauties and your witching voice. If you be -the greatest profligate the world ever saw, I care not--so madly do I -love you.” - -“And when this delirium shall have passed away, Lorenzo,” murmured -Laura, concealing her burning countenance on his breast, “you will -repent the rashness which induced you to wed with one who had so easily -abandoned herself to you when a complete stranger--and whom--whom--you -knew to be unchaste even then!” she added, her voice becoming -touchingly low and tremulously plaintive. - -“To suspect even for an instant that I should ever repent of making you -my wife, Laura, is to doubt my love,” said the Count of Carignano--for -such we may now call him; “and _that_ wounds me to the very soul! -’Tis sufficient for me to know that you are an angel of beauty--and -I reck not if you are a demoness in character. But _that_ I am sure -is impossible. Your loveliness may have led you into temptations, -and your temperament may have induced you to yield: but that you are -generous--good--amiable, I am convinced, Laura;--and that you will -prove faithful to one who places all his own happiness in you, and who -will study incessantly to promote yours--oh! of that I am well assured -also. Say, then, my adored one--can you consent to become the Countess -of Carignano, with a revenue of twelve thousand a year?” - -“Not for the dross--oh! not for the despicable dross,” murmured Laura, -scarcely able to restrain her joy within reasonable bounds, and induce -her suitor to believe that no selfish interests were mixed up with the -motives for that assent which she was about to give,--“not for vile and -sordid gold, Lorenzo, do I respond in the affirmative to the generous -proposal that you have now made to me--because I myself am possessed -of a fortune of sixty thousand pounds: but it is because I love -you--yes--I love you, my handsome Lorenzo----” - -“Say no more, Laura--beloved Laura!” interrupted the impassioned young -nobleman, straining her to his breast: then fondly--oh! how fondly -did he gaze upon her--upon _her_, that guileful woman--reading the -reflection of his own voluptuous feelings in her fine large eyes, and -then bestowing upon her the most ardent caresses. - -Several minutes passed away,--minutes that glided by with rapid and -silent wings;--and the handsome pair scarcely noticed that a single -second had elapsed since last they spoke. - -“Tell me, my sweet Laura,” at length said the Count, toying with the -glossy and fragrant tresses of her hair,--“tell me what meant certain -words which you addressed to me on that evening when I was first -blessed with your kindness. You declared that you could not marry me, -although you were not married--that you could not be my mistress, -although you were not the mistress of another--and that you could not -hold out any hope to me, although you were pledged to no other man.” - -“That language, apparently so mysterious, is easily explained,” -said Laura, forcing a deep blush into her cheeks as she spoke, and -winding one of her snow-white and naked arms round her lover’s neck, -so that the contact of the firm warm flesh against his cheek sent -the blood rushing through his veins in boiling currents. “I had -abandoned myself to you in a moment of caprice--no, of weakness--of -passion, which I could not subdue: I had yielded to an invincible -impulse, not knowing its nature, and not waiting to ask myself the -question. But when you had been with me a short time, I felt that -I could love you--yes--deeply, tenderly love you; and as I fancied -that, even though you protested the contrary, you could entertain no -lasting affection for me, but on the other hand would soon regret -any hastily and rashly-formed connexion, I was resolved not to place -my own heart in jeopardy, nor incur the risk of loving well and then -sustaining a cruel disappointment. For I feared that you addressed -me in an impassioned tone only because you were labouring under the -delirium of passing excitement and strong though evanescent feelings. -Thus was it, then--for my own sake--that I spoke mysteriously to you, -in order to convince you of the necessity of seeing me no more. But -now, my Lorenzo--now, that you have had several days to reflect upon -the proposal which you then made me--now that I have received such -unequivocal proofs of your love, and that I no longer fear lest you -should be acting in obedience to a sudden impulse,--oh! now, I say, I -can hesitate no longer--and I will become your wife!” - -The Count of Carignano drank in the delicious poison of her words -until his very soul was intoxicated; and loving so well as did this -generous-hearted, confiding young man, he paused not for an instant to -demand of himself whether he were loving wisely. But he was contented -to risk all and everything,--happiness--honour--fame--and name,--in -this marriage upon which he had set his mind:--he longed--he burnt--he -craved to possess Laura altogether--to have her to himself;--and he -felt jealous of all the rest of the world until the nuptial knot should -have been tied. It is in this humour and in such a temperament that -the highest peer will marry an actress, who would jump at an offer to -become his pensioned mistress for a few hundreds a-year. - -And Laura--what was passing in her mind? The readers may easily -conceive: and yet, lest there should be one or two of imaginations so -opaque as not to be able to divine her thoughts, we will describe them -as succinctly as possible. - -She had run down the institution of marriage when in conversation with -the Marquis of Delmour, because she knew that he was already bound in -matrimonial bonds, and that _she_ therefore could not become his wife. -The result was that she was enabled to consent to become his mistress -with much less apparent violation of decency, and without the risk of -shocking his feelings. And his mistress she would have become, as she -indeed promised, had not the arrival of the Count of Carignano turned -her thoughts into an entirely new channel, and placed her interests -altogether in a new light. From the moment that he announced his title -and his wealth, Laura resolved to throw the poor Marquis of Delmour -overboard and accept the proposals of the Italian nobleman. - -In fact, Fortune appeared to favour Laura marvellously. Ere now she had -beholden a coronet at the end of a vista of some years: in her musings, -she had said, “The Marquis will be worth two hundred thousand pounds -to me: and _then_ I may espouse a peer of high title!” Such was her -ambitious speculation previously to the arrival of Lorenzo: and now, -since he had come, she no longer need pass through the apprenticeship -of mistress to one nobleman in order to become the wife of another. -No--a coronet was within her grasp: a few days--a few hours might -behold her Countess of Carignano,--with a husband of whom she could not -but be proud, and not with an animated corpse bound to her side. - -Here was another triumph for Laura--another cause of glorification -in the possession of those matchless charms which thus captivated so -hastily and triumphed so effectually. Within a few short weeks she -had seen Charles Hatfield--the Marquis of Delmour--and the Count of -Carignano at her feet. The first and last had enjoyed her favours: the -second was in anticipation of them--and, in that anticipation, had paid -sixty thousand pounds. To the first she was wedded--and their marriage -was a secret: to the last she had consented to be allied--and their -union would be proclaimed to all the world! - -Oh! associated with all these reflections, were triumphs--glorious -triumphs for Laura Mortimer; and as those thoughts rushed through her -mind, as she lay half embraced in the arms of the fond and doting -Italian nobleman, the delicious rosiness of animation spread over her -cheeks, and kindred fires flashed from under her long silken lashes. - -“How beautiful art thou, my adored one!” exclaimed Carignano, as -he contemplated the glorious loveliness of her looks: and then he -pressed his lips to that mouth which was so voluptuously formed, and -which rather resembled a luscious fruit than anything belonging to -human shape. “Oh! how I long to call thee mine--to know that thou art -indissolubly linked to me! But say--tell me--when shall this happy, -happy union take place?--when wilt thou accompany me to the altar?” - -“Let us depart for England without delay, my dearest Lorenzo,” murmured -Laura, lavishing upon him the most tender caresses; “and there--in -London--our marriage can be celebrated immediately after our arrival. -Have you any tie--and business on hand to retain you in Paris?” - -“None in the world,” was the answer: “and even if I had, everything -should give place to the accomplishment of my felicity and the -fulfilment of your wishes.” - -“Then let us take our departure as early as convenient to-morrow -morning,” said Laura. - -“And we shall not separate in the meantime?” observed the young Count, -straining the syren to his breast. - -She murmured a favourable reply; and, after some minutes of tender -dalliance, she hastened to give her servants the necessary instructions -relative to the preparations for her departure. - -A delicate supper was then served up; and the sparkling champagne made -the eyes of the lovers flash more brightly, and enhanced the rich -carnation glow of their countenances. - -The time-piece struck eleven; and they were about to retire to rest, -when Rosalie hastily entered the room, and approaching Laura, said in -an under tone, “_Mademoiselle_, your mother has this moment arrived. -I told her that you were engaged--and she awaits your presence in the -breakfast-parlour.” - -“It is my mother, dear Lorenzo,” Laura observed to the Count, who had -not overheard the abigail’s communication: “but her arrival will not -in any way interfere with our arrangements,” she hastened to add, -perceiving that the young nobleman’s countenance suddenly expressed -apprehension. - -“And yet you yourself appear to be but little pleased at this -occurrence, dearest Laura,” he whispered, gazing fondly upon her. - -“I could have wished it were otherwise,” she responded: “but no matter. -There is nothing to fear: I am independent of my mother. Have patience -for ten minutes--and I will return to you.” - -With these words, she pressed his hand tenderly and then hurried from -the apartment--the discreet Rosalie having already retired the moment -she had delivered her message. - -Laura hastened to the breakfast-parlour; and there she found her -mother, whose garments indicated that she had just arrived in Paris -after a journey in an open vehicle and on a dusty road. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXIV. - -LAURA AND HER MOTHER.--ANOTHER INTERRUPTION. - - -“Here I am in Paris once more, Perdita--Laura, I mean,” said the old -woman, without moving from the seat which she had taken, and without -offering to embrace her daughter; “and I am within the fortnight -stipulated, too.” - -“You have travelled post from Calais or Boulogne, doubtless?” observed -Laura, interrogatively: “for your clothes are covered with dust--and it -is evident that you were not cooped up in the interior of a diligence. -I may therefore conclude that you were successful in your search after -Torrens and your designs upon him,” she added, fixing a penetrating -glance upon her mother’s countenance. - -“I was so far successful that I obtained certain intelligence -concerning him,” responded the old woman: “but I failed altogether in -my hope of becoming the possessor of his money.” - -“And what was the intelligence to which you allude?” demanded Laura, -who felt convinced from her mother’s manner that she had _not_ failed -in the object of her journey. - -“I learnt, beyond all question or doubt, that Torrens really was the -murderer of Percival, but that he himself had met with a violent death.” - -“Ah! Torrens is no more?” exclaimed Laura: then, bending a look full of -deep meaning upon her mother, she said in a tone of equal significancy, -“You went to London to be revenged upon him--and he is dead! He -has experienced a violent end. Well--I understand you--I read your -secret--and you need not be more explicit.” - -“By heaven! you wrong me, Laura,” exclaimed the old woman, starting -in astonishment and alarm as the justice of her daughter’s horrible -suspicion became suddenly apparent--a suspicion that she herself had -so incautiously engendered by the mysterious manner in which she had -announced Torrens’ death. - -“It is not worth while disputing upon the subject,” said Laura, in a -tone which convinced her mother--and, indeed, was intended to convince -her, that no explanation could now possibly wipe away the suspicion -alluded to. “You are doubtless well pleased that Torrens is no -more--and that is sufficient.” - -“Perdita--Laura, I mean,” said the old woman, speaking as if her tongue -were parched, or as if ashes clogged up her throat, “why should you -take delight in uttering things to vex and annoy me? For some time -past--indeed ever since the date of your connection with Charles -Hatfield, a barrier has appeared to rise up between us. We seem to -act towards each other as if it were tacitly understood that we are -enemies, or that we mutually harboured distrust and suspicion.” - -“I am aware of it, mother--and it is all your own fault,” answered -Laura. “You sought to exercise over me a sway to which I would not and -never will submit; and you menaced me in a manner not easily to be -forgotten.” - -“But you had your revenge--for you abused me vilely,” retorted Mrs. -Mortimer, with a malignant bitterness of accent. - -“Acknowledged! And you yourself must admit that you provoked my -resentment. But let us not remain here bandying words, which may only -lead to an useless quarrel. Circumstances have opened to me a grand -career--a career, in which my happiness and my interests may be alike -promoted; and I have accepted the destiny thus favourably prepared for -me. In a word, I am about to marry a young Italian nobleman whom I feel -I can love--whom I already love, indeed--and who possesses a proud -title and princely revenues.” - -“Ah! you are about to be married?” said Mrs. Mortimer, speaking as -if the project were perfectly natural and without an objection: but -in her heart--in the depths of her foul and vindictive soul, she was -rejoiced,--for this alliance would place her daughter completely in her -power. - -The reader will remember that the old woman was aware of Laura’s union -with Charles Hatfield, but that the young lady herself was totally -unsuspicious of that fact being thus known to her mother. - -“Yes,” resumed Laura: “I am about to be married. I leave Paris for -England to-morrow morning. I return to London, because I am now -independent of the Hatfields; and at my leisure I shall devise means -to avenge myself for the insults I have received at their hands. It -now remains for you and me to decide upon what terms we are to exist -in future. Be friendly--and I shall allow you a handsome income: be -hostile--and I shall dare all you can do against me.” - -“I am sorry that my daughter should think it necessary to propose such -alternatives,” said Mrs. Mortimer. “State what you require me to do.” - -“To settle in France--wherever you please,” responded Laura; “and I -will grant you an allowance of two hundred pounds every three months.” - -“The pecuniary portion of the conditions is liberal enough,” said Mrs. -Mortimer; “but the rest is as despotic and galling as the terms which -Mr. Hatfield made the other day with you.” - -“I much regret that prudence should compel me thus to dictate to you,” -returned Laura: “there is, however, no alternative. ’Tis for you to -yield to my conditions--or open war will at once commence between us.” - -“I consent--I agree,” said the old woman, who knew that the time was -not yet come for her to show her teeth in defiance of her daughter. - -“So much the better!” exclaimed Laura, but in a tone indicating that -the matter was one of perfect indifference to her; for she little -knew--little suspected how irretrievably her marriage with the Count of -Carignano would place her in her mother’s power. “And now I have one -question to ask you.” - -“Speak, Perdita,” observed the old woman. - -“Pray remember that my name is _Laura_!” cried her daughter, -petulantly. “You perceive how necessary it is that we should dwell -apart from each other. Your imprudence is really great; and the -question I am about to put to you, refers to some matter in which you -doubtless compromised yourself. Are you acquainted with the Marquis of -Delmour?” - -“The Marquis of Delmour!” repeated Mrs. Mortimer, with an expression of -countenance denoting the most unfeigned astonishment. “No--certainly -not. I have heard of him, it is true; but only in the same way that one -hears of any other person conspicuous for rank, wealth, or station. I -have never seen the Marquis of Delmour to my knowledge.” - -“Perhaps you have been in his company without knowing who he was,” -resumed Laura. “At all events, have you recently represented yourself, -in any circle or place, as the widow of a General-officer whom you -stated to have died in India?” - -The system of duplicity which the old woman determined to adopt towards -her daughter, had so well prepared her to sustain any questioning or -cross-examination on any point, that she did not betray the least -surprise, nor did her countenance undergo the slightest change as that -interrogatory suddenly brought to her mind the conviction that Mr. -Vernon and the Marquis of Delmour must be one and the same person. -Without at the moment perceiving how this discovery could be in any way -useful to her, but still acting with that reserve and wariness with -which she had armed herself in order to meet her daughter, she resolved -not to mention a single word of anything that had occurred in London -relative to the beautiful Recluse of the Cottage, her father, and Lord -William Trevelyan. - -Accordingly, and without the least hesitation,--nor quailing, nor -changing colour beneath the penetrating gaze which Laura fixed -upon her,--she said, “I do not remember ever to have made any such -representation as that to which you allude.” - -“It is singular--this coincidence,” mused Laura, audibly; “and yet it -is of little import to me.” - -“It would appear, at all events, that you must be acquainted with -this Marquis of Delmour of whom you speak?” said Mrs. Mortimer, in a -careless and indifferent tone. - -Scarcely were the words uttered, when a violent ringing at the front -door was heard; and in a few moments a voice, instantly recognised -alike by Laura and her mother, exclaimed to Rosalie, “Has your mistress -retired to rest yet? I must see her immediately.” - -The abigail, suspecting that it would be better not to allow the -Marquis of Delmour--for he the visitor was--to be brought face to face -with the handsome young Italian, unhesitatingly conducted the nobleman -into the parlour where Laura and Mrs. Mortimer were holding their -interview. - -But the moment Rosalie had closed the door behind the Marquis, he -uttered an ejaculation of mingled astonishment and rage, and springing -towards Mrs. Mortimer, exclaimed, “Ah! I meet you again, vile woman! -Give me up my daughter--tell me where you have hidden her!” - -And he caught her violently by the arm. - -“I know what you mean, my lord,” said the old woman, hastily: “but you -accuse me wrongfully.” - -“Wrongfully!” repeated the Marquis, his countenance white with rage: -“no--no! I only accuse you justly--for it must be you who have spirited -away my child--my beloved Agnes!” - -“It is false!” ejaculated the old woman, with an emphasis which made -him release his hold of her and fall back two or three paces. - -“False, you say!” he cried. “Oh! then, if you have really not done this -flagrant wrong--but if you are in possession of any clue--” - -“I am--I am,” interrupted Mrs. Mortimer, seeing in a moment that a -reward was to be obtained and her spite against Lord William Trevelyan -to be gratified at the same time: for she _did_ cherish the bitterest -animosity against that young nobleman, on account of his conduct -towards her when, four days previously, she had taken Agnes Vernon to -his house in Park Square. - -“And yet I cannot conceive you to be innocent in this matter,” -exclaimed the nobleman, surveying her with deep distrust and -aversion--and all this time taking no notice of Laura, so profoundly -were his feelings engrossed by the subject which now occupied his mind: -“for wherefore did you visit the cottage where Agnes dwelt?--why did -you intrude yourself upon her presence?” - -“All that can be readily explained, my lord,” responded Mrs. Mortimer, -not losing an atom of her self-possession. - -“Then tell me where my daughter is--tell me what has become of her?” -cried the nobleman, in an appealing tone; “and if you have been -concerned in removing her from the cottage, I will forgive you! Nay, -more--I will reward you handsomely.” - -“Your daughter is in safety--that much I can inform you at once,” said -Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Thanks--thanks for this assurance!” cried the old nobleman, clasping -his hands together in gratitude for the relief thus imparted to his -mind: then, suddenly recollecting the presence of Laura, he turned -towards her, and in a tone of mingled suspicion and reproach, said, -“But how is it that I find you with the very person of whom I spoke to -you somewhat disparagingly two short hours ago?” - -“She claims some distant relationship with me, my dear Marquis,” -Laura hastened to observe--but without manifesting the slightest -embarrassment; while the rapid and intelligent sign which she made to -her mother, and which was altogether unperceived by the nobleman, was -fully understood by the old woman. - -“Ah! that is on account of her name being _Mortimer_,” said the -Marquis, completely satisfied by the answer which Laura had given -him--especially as the old woman offered no contradiction. “And now -I must request you to accede to some alteration in our plans for -to-morrow,” he continued, drawing Laura aside, and speaking to her in -a low tone. “On my return just now to the hotel where I am staying, I -found a letter containing the afflicting intelligence that a daughter -of mine--a daughter whom circumstances have compelled me to keep in the -strictest seclusion--had suddenly and most mysteriously disappeared -from her dwelling in the neighbourhood of London. This happened five -days ago;--but Mrs. Gifford--my dear child’s housekeeper, and I may -almost say _guardian_--did not immediately write to me, hoping that -Agnes would return. Oh! you may conceive how deeply this event has -grieved me----” - -“I sympathise sincerely with you, my dear Marquis,” interrupted Laura, -affecting to wipe away tears from her eyes: for it suited her purpose -to remain on good terms with the old nobleman until she should have -cashed her draft for the sixty thousand pounds. “Yes--I sincerely -sympathise with you,” she repeated: “and I can anticipate the proposed -alterations in our arrangements. You intend to start immediately for -England----” - -“Without a moment’s unnecessary delay,” said the Marquis, who was -greatly excited by the intelligence he had received from Mrs. Gifford: -“the instant I return to my hotel, a post-chaise and four will be in -readiness for me. But may I hope that you will follow me to London as -speedily as convenient?” - -“I shall depart to-morrow, my dear Marquis, at the hour already -arranged,” responded Laura; “and deeply do I regret that my -preparations are so backward as to render it impossible for me to offer -to become your travelling-companion at once.” - -“Dearest Laura!” murmured the Marquis, for a single moment losing the -remembrance of his affliction in the doting passion he had formed for -the beautiful woman who was thus grossly deluding him. “Our separation -will not be very long,” he continued; “and I hope that when we meet in -London three days hence, I may have good news to tell you respecting -Agnes. Now, madam,” he exclaimed aloud, turning towards Mrs. Mortimer, -who, while affecting to be examining the mantel-ornaments, was vainly -endeavouring to catch the sense of what was passing at a little -distance between her daughter and the Marquis; “now, madam,” he said, -approaching her with an abruptness that made her start, “I do not -think I shall be insulting you if I offer you a hundred guineas for -the information which you professed yourself able and willing to give -relative to my daughter--my dear and well-beloved Agnes.” - -“A hundred guineas, my lord!” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, contemptuously: -“if you really love that young lady whom you call your daughter, you -must surely consider that it is worth five or six times the amount -named in order to regain possession of her.” - -“Laura dearest:----I mean, Miss Mortimer,” said the nobleman, -impatiently, as he turned towards the young lady,--“oblige me with -writing materials, and I will speedily satisfy this woman’s rapacity.” - -“Perhaps I might also exact a recompense for keeping secret the good -understanding which exists between your lordship and ‘_dearest Laura_,’ -and which you so unguardedly betrayed?” observed Mrs. Mortimer, in a -tone of bitter sarcasm, and with a malignant glance darted from her -snake-like eyes at her daughter. - -“Silence, woman!” ejaculated the Marquis, speaking with the emphasis of -authority: then, the writing materials being now placed before him, he -sate down and wrote a cheque, which he tossed across the table to Mrs. -Mortimer, saying, “I am sorry that I have not enough money about my -person to satisfy your demands. I am therefore compelled to give you a -draft upon my London bankers; and you will perceive that it is for _six -times_ as much as I at first offered you,” he added, dwelling on the -words which the old woman had herself used to indicate the amount of -her expectations. - -“Yes--my lord: I see that it is for six hundred pounds,” she observed, -coolly and quietly, as she folded up the cheque and secured it about -her person. “And now I will tell you what I know concerning your -daughter; and I take heaven to witness that I will not mislead you.” - -“If you do, my good woman,” interrupted the Marquis, “you will find -payment of the cheque stopped at the bank. Go on; and delay not--for my -time is precious.” - -“In a word, my lord,” said Mrs. Mortimer, the contemptuous manner in -which she was treated by the haughty peer being fully counterbalanced -by the handsome bonus that had just fallen into her hand,--“Lord -William Trevelyan, whom you doubtless know well by name, if not -personally, is deeply enamoured of your daughter; and he employed me to -take a letter to her. I acquitted myself of the task: but Miss Agnes -is a perfect dragon of virtue--and I could make little impression upon -her.” - -“God be thanked!” ejaculated the Marquis, fervently. - -“Well--although Lord William’s passion is honourable enough, I have no -doubt, yet Miss Agnes----” - -“And is it Lord William who has taken her away?” demanded the Marquis, -unable to restrain his impatience or any longer endure the tortures of -suspense. - -“No, my lord--it was her mother!” said Mrs. Mortimer, watching through -profound curiosity the effect which this announcement would produce -upon the nobleman. - -“Ah! then my worst apprehensions are confirmed!” he exclaimed, in a -tone of poignant anguish. - -“But do not give way to despair, my lord,” said Mrs. Mortimer: “for -Miss Agnes subsequently escaped from the house where her mother placed -her----” - -“Oh! I then she loves me still--_me_--her father!” exclaimed the -Marquis, in accents of joy: “and she yielded not to the wiles of that -woman----But proceed, madam--proceed!” he cried, suddenly interrupting -himself, and again speaking in a tone of impatience. - -“Having escaped, as I have just said,” resumed Mrs. Mortimer, “Agnes -fell into the power of ruffian, from whose hands I was fortunate -enough to rescue her; and, not knowing precisely whither to take her, -I thought it best to consult Lord William Trevelyan upon the proper -course to adopt. His lordship, who is a man of honour--and pray -remember to tell him that I say so,” she added, with a slight accent -of malignity,--“his lordship immediately placed her in the care of a -lady of his acquaintance; and it is to him that you must apply, my Lord -Marquis, for the address of your daughter’s new abode.” - -“And all that you have told me is true?” exclaimed the old nobleman. - -“If it should prove otherwise, your lordship has in your own hands the -means of punishing me,” responded Mrs. Mortimer. - -“True!” cried the Marquis; “and now I am somewhat consoled by the -tidings you have given me. My daughter is safe, and in the society of -honourable persons. I thank you, madam.” - -He then turned away to shake Laura cordially by the hand ere he took -his departure. - -“You will leave to-morrow at mid-day, dearest,” he said, in an under -tone to her whom he fondly hoped to make his mistress, but who was so -grossly deluding him. - -“Yes--without fail,” was the reply. - -“And on your arrival in town you will instantly send me word at which -hotel you take up your temporary residence?” continued the Marquis. “I -shall hasten to join you, and hope to have a charming villa ready to -receive you.” - -“You are too good, my dear Marquis, to think to much of me at a time -when your heart is so severely lacerated on account of your daughter,” -said Laura, likewise speaking in a whisper. - -“There is nothing that I would not do for you, beloved Laura,” -responded the infatuated old noble. “You hold already a cheque for -sixty thousand pounds: that is nothing to what I will do for you, my -dearest angel. And if I allude to pecuniary affairs at all, it is -to convince you how anxious I am to ensure your happiness, not only -now--but likewise when I shall be no more.” - -Thus speaking, the Marquis of Delmour pressed Laura’s hand fervently, -and was about to hurry away, when, suddenly recollecting something, he -drew her still farther aside, and said in a very low whisper, “Have -nothing to do with that woman dearest! I dislike her looks--I mistrust -her altogether. She is evidently an adventuress. Oh! how could I have -ever supposed even for an instant that such a wretch was the mother of -such an angelic being as my Laura?” - -Another fond and impassioned look--another pressure of the hand--and -the Marquis was gone. - -Of all this latter dialogue which took place between that nobleman and -Laura, and which was carried on in a very low tone, Mrs. Mortimer, -who strained all her auricular faculties to catch even a syllable, -succeeded only in overhearing a very short sentence. But that one -sentence she did manage to catch; and a highly significant as well as -deeply important one was it for her. - -And these were the words which she thus caught--“_You hold already a -cheque for sixty thousand pounds!_” - -Quickly as the first glass of sparkling wine infuses a delicious -sensation throughout the entire frame,--so speedily did that one -sentence create a burning joy in the breast of the old woman. She saw -through it all:--Laura had wheedled the Marquis out of that immense -sum--and now she intended to jilt him, and espouse the Italian noble! - -“A cheque for sixty thousand pounds!” thought Mrs. Mortimer within -herself, while the Marquis and Laura were still whispering together: -“sixty thousand pounds! Well--we shall see! It is better than a paltry -six hundred.” - -And, while thus musing, she affected to be smelling the flowers on -the mantel-piece, until the door suddenly opened and closed again -instantaneously--and then she turned round towards Laura, for the -Marquis was gone. - -“And you assured me that you knew nothing of the nobleman who has just -left us?” said Laura, fixing her eyes with cold contempt on her mother. - -“I knew him only as Mr. Vernon until I saw him here this evening,” was -the answer. - -“But it was to him that you had passed yourself as the widow of a -General-officer in the Indian army,” persisted Laura: “and yet you -denied having ever made such a representation to any one. You perceive, -mother, that I cannot trust you: you are full of duplicity and deceit -even to me--and still you complain that a coolness subsists between us.” - -“I may observe, on my side, Laura,” retorted the old woman, with a -subdued and cunning malignity, “that you were not more communicative -to me relative to the Marquis of Delmour than I was disposed to be to -you. We are therefore even upon that score; and, at all events, let us -not dispute. I shall now leave you, Laura--for I am well aware that -my room will be preferable to my company. It is my present intention -to remain in Paris; and from time to time I will send you tidings of -my whereabouts, so that you may duly remit me my quarterly income, as -promised just now. The cheque of the Marquis I shall send through the -medium of some Parisian banker.” - -The old woman then took her departure, a cool “Good-bye” being all the -farewell salutation that passed between her daughter and herself as she -crossed the threshold of the handsome suite of apartments. - -“Thank God! she is gone!” thought Laura, as she hastened to rejoin her -handsome Castelcicalan, who was growing impatient of her protracted -absence. - -“The haughty and self-sufficient creature!” murmured Mrs. Mortimer to -herself, an she hastily descended the stairs: “she is completely in my -power--at my mercy--in every way!” - -And did the old woman remain in Paris in fulfilment of her declared -intention? - -No:--wearied and exhausted by travel as she already was, but animated -with an indomitable energy, Mrs. Mortimer hastened, late though the -hour now was, to procure a post-chaise and four; and while Laura was -passing a night of voluptuousness and love in the arms of the handsome -Count of Carignano, her mother was speeding along the road to Boulogne, -on her way back to London. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXV. - -THE LAWYER’S HEAD CLERK. - - -It was about four o’clock in the afternoon of the day following the -incidents just related, that Mr. James Heathcote, the lawyer, was -seated at his writing-table in that private office which we have -already described to our readers,--when a low, timid knock at the door -fell upon his ears. - -“Come in,” he exclaimed, in his short, abrupt, and almost brutal -manner, well knowing that the individual about to enter was the poor -wretch whom he bullied when in an ill-humour, and whom on all occasions -he was wont to make his vile agent and spaniel-like slave. - -Creeping up as usual--rather than walking with the natural dignity of -a man--towards the table, Mr. Green bowed humbly and waited until his -dreaded, but also hated master should deign to give him leave to speak. - -“Well, Mr. Green,” said Heathcote, after a pause of a few minutes, -during which he waited to see whether his grovelling serf would dare -to open his lips until he received permission,--for the lawyer was a -man who liked to ascertain the full extent of the power that he wielded -over his subordinates, and also to make _them_ feel that he _did_ -exercise that power;--“well, Mr. Green, what news this afternoon?” - -And, throwing himself back in his arm-chair, he passed his thin, yellow -hand through his iron-grey hair. - -“If you please, sir, I have several things to report, as you were so -much engaged this morning that you could not give the time to hear -me,” observed Green, in that subdued and almost affrighted tone of -voice which years of servility had rendered habitual to him;--for such -is ever the case with those who mistake the most abasing sycophancy -for proofs of respect. And here we may observe that it is only in -the demoralising and degrading influence of Royal Courts that this -disgusting susurration is adopted as a species of homage to the -divinity raised up by man’s stupid and most reprehensible idolatry. - -“Ah! I recollect--I was busy this morning,” exclaimed Mr. Heathcote. -“Well--what have you to report?” - -“Please, sir,” resumed the trembling clerk, “Gregson the upholsterer -has put his affairs into the hands of Goodman and Meanwell, who have -got all his creditors save yourself, sir, to sign a letter of license; -and Mr. Goodman has been here this afternoon to say that unless you -will give your name also, his client must inevitably go into the -_Gazette_.” - -“Then let him go--and to the devil also, if he chooses!” vociferated -Mr. Heathcote, flying into a passion--a most unusual thing with -one so cool, calculating, and self-possessed as he. “Goodman and -Meanwell are what are called _honest attorneys_--conscientious -lawyers--straightforward practitioners;--and they will exert all their -energies to carry their client through his difficulties. But I will -thwart them, Mr. Green--by God! I will thwart them; Gregson _shall_ go -into the _Gazette_--even if I lose every penny he owes me. I _hate_ -your honest attorneys;”--and his lips were curled in bitter irony and -demoniac malignity. “Go on, sir!” he exclaimed savagely, as if it were -his wretched clerk who had irritated him. - -“Thompson, sir--the defendant in Jones’s case, you know,” resumed Mr. -Green, “was arrested yesterday--in pursuance of your orders, sir. -I took the liberty of mentioning, sir, that his wife had just been -confined----” - -“Well?” exclaimed Mr. Heathcote, impatiently. - -“And that his eldest child was at the point of death, sir,” added -Green, more timidly than before. - -“Well--what next?” demanded the attorney. - -“The poor child has since died, sir.” - -“The poor child, indeed! Who cares a fig about a child? Why--you are -growing quite soft-hearted, Mr. Green,” said Heathcote, in a tone of -cutting irony. “The _poor_ child, indeed! I suppose the wife has died -also?” he added, with heartless jocularity. - -“Indeed, sir, I am sorry to say you are right in your conjecture,” -responded Green, scarcely venturing to make the announcement. - -“No!--is it really the case, though?” exclaimed Heathcote, startled -for a moment at finding that what he had said as a brutal jest turned -out to be a solemn and shocking truth. “Well--what next?” he demanded, -mastering those emotions which he was ashamed at having betrayed. - -“Thompson himself, sir--driven to despair by these numerous -afflictions--cut his throat in prison this afternoon,” added Mr. Green. - -“Is this possible?” cried Mr. Heathcote, again excited to a degree more -powerful than the clerk had ever before observed: but speedily subduing -his feelings, by dint of a strong and almost superhuman effort--so -sudden and effective was it--he said, “Well--it is not my fault. -Maudlin sentimentalists will perhaps lay his death at my door----” - -“I am afraid, sir, that _all_ the three deaths will be attributed to -you,” interrupted Green, with an affectation of exceeding meekness, -while from beneath his brows he darted a rapid glance of fiend-like -expression at his master--a glance which denoted how the man in his -secret soul feasted upon the pangs which now rent the heart of the -attorney. - -“I am tough enough to bear everything that people may say of me, Mr. -Green,” observed Heathcote, in his usually cold tone of irony. “But -proceed with your communications.” - -“Beale’s wife, sir, called this morning--you know Beale?--the man you -put into Whitecross Street prison, and whose wife and children have -been starving ever since----” - -“Really, Mr. Green,” interrupted Heathcote, fixing a stern look upon -his clerk, “it would appear that you are purposely entering into minute -details this afternoon in order to annoy me. Of course I know who Beale -_is_----” - -“_Was_, sir, if you please,” said Green, with difficulty concealing -the savage delight that he took in thus torturing--or, at least, -endeavouring to torture, his master. - -“What do you mean, sir?” demanded Heathcote, savagely. - -“That Beale died in the infirmary at Whitecross Street last night, -sir,” responded Green, his tone and manner becoming more abjectly -obsequious in proportion as his internal joy augmented at the -increasing excitement and irritation of his master. - -“The man was doubtless a drunkard, Green,” observed Heathcote, roughly: -“and therefore, when no longer able to get liquor, the reaction carried -him off.” - -“I dare say, sir, that you know best--and I am sure you must be right,” -returned the clerk, with a low bow: “but the man’s friends _do_ say -that a more sober, hard-working, and deserving fellow did not exist.” - -[Illustration] - -“And therefore I suppose that _his_ death will be laid at my door!” -exclaimed Heathcote, now for the first time in his life glancing -timidly--almost appealing, at his clerk, as if to implore him to devise -some excuse or start some palliation that might ease his troubled -conscience. - -But Green, whose very obsequiousness and servility afforded him the -means of venting his spite on his hated master, pretended to take the -observation as an assertion and not an interrogatory, and replied in -a humble tone, “Your foresight and knowledge of the world, sir, are -beyond all dispute; and, as you say, Beale’s death is certain to be -laid at your door. But of course you are perfectly indifferent to the -tittle-tattle of scandalous tongues.” - -Heathcote rose from his seat--or rather started from it, and walked -rapidly up and down the room thrice. He felt sorely troubled; for, -hardened as his heart was--obdurate as his soul had become, he could -not shut out the whispering voice of conscience which now proclaimed -him to be the author of all the deaths that his clerk had enumerated. -And, while he was racked by these painful convictions, the thought -suddenly flashed to his brain that Green had displayed a savage delight -in detailing those horrors; and, man of the world as James Heathcote -was, it occurred to him, as a natural sequence to the suspicion just -mentioned, that his clerk hated and abhorred him. - -Acting under the influence of these impressions, he stopped suddenly -short close by the spot where Green was standing; and he fixed -his snake-like gaze upon the shabbily-dressed, senile-looking, -self-debasing individual, who appeared to be maintaining his eyes bent -timidly and reverentially on the floor--as if his master’s emotions -were something too sacred to look upon. - -“Green!--Mr. Green!” exclaimed Heathcote, laying his hand with such -abruptness and also with such violence upon the grovelling wretch’s -shoulder, that it made him start convulsively--though he knew all the -while that his master had accosted him, and was also gazing on him. - -“Yes, sir!” cried the clerk, raising his eyes diffidently toward -Heathcote’s countenance. - -“Do you conceive that the deaths of those people can be righteously -attributed to me?” demanded the lawyer, speaking in a low, measured, -and solemn tone, and looking as if he sought to read into the most -secret depths of his clerk’s soul: “do you, I say, dare to associate -any act or deed of mine with _their_ fate?” he asked, raising his -voice, while his face became terrible to gaze upon. - -“Who?--I, sir!” ejaculated Green, as if in astonishment at the -questions put to him; and his own countenance assumed such a sinister -aspect that Heathcote surveyed him with increasing suspicion and -distrust. - -“Yes--you!” cried the lawyer, ferociously. “Now, mark me, Green,” he -continued, in a lower and more composed tone of voice,--“if you dare -to harbour ill feelings towards me--if even a scintillation of such -feelings should transpire from your words or manner, I will crush you -as I would a worm--I will send you to Newgate--abandon you to your -fate--and, if necessary, _help_ to have you shipped for eternal exile.” - -“My God! how have I deserved these implied reproaches--these terrible -menaces?” demanded Green, his countenance expressing real alarm, and -his whole frame shivering from head to heel. - -“Perhaps you have _not_ deserved them--and in that case they will -serve as a warning,” said Heathcote, now becoming suddenly calm and -imperiously scornful: “but I think that you _did_ merit all I have -uttered--and now you know me better, perhaps, than you knew me before. -However, let all this pass. I do not for an instant suppose that I -possess your affection; but I will guard against the effects of your -hate. Answer me not, sir: you cannot wipe away the impressions which -this afternoon’s scene has conjured up in my mind. And now proceed with -anything more that you may have to tell me.” - -“Fox, the ironmonger, sir,” resumed Green, in a more timid and servile -tone than ever, and with a manner so cowed and grovelling that it -completely veiled the strong pantings for revenge and the emotions of -bitter, burning hate which dwelt in the clerk’s secret soul,--“Fox, the -ironmonger, sir, has realised all his property and absconded.” - -“Did I not tell you to issue execution against his goods without -delay?” demanded Heathcote, angrily. - -“I obeyed your commands, sir, as soon as the usual forms were gone -through,” responded Green: “but in the interval the man, knowing the -steps you were taking against him, sold off everything and ran away--no -one can tell whither.” - -“Then all your intelligence is evil this afternoon, Mr. Green?” said -Heathcote. “What about Mrs. Sefton?” - -“The spy that I set to watch her has reported her removal from Kentish -Town to a house at Bayswater, sir,” answered Green; “and as she has a -young lady with her--a Miss Vernon, it appears--she does not seem to be -busying herself in any way that might interfere with your interests.” - -“But that insolent young nobleman--that Lord William Trevelyan?” -demanded Heathcote. - -“I do not think he is troubling himself any more in the business, sir,” -answered Green. - -“Good and well!” ejaculated the attorney. “These latter tidings -constitute something like an agreeable set-off in respect to all your -former communications. Hah!” he cried, suddenly interrupting himself, -as the clock proclaimed the hour: “five already! Well, you may go now, -Green--and see that your spies keep a good look-out upon the movements -of Mrs. Sefton and Lord William Trevelyan.” - -“I will, sir,” was the reply; and the clerk bowed himself out of the -office. - -Half an hour afterwards Mr. Green was wending his way towards the -aristocratic quarters of the West End; and at length he entered a -respectable-looking public-house in the neighbourhood of Portland Place. - -Having called for some refreshment, he took up the newspaper to while -away the time until the arrival of the person whom he was expecting: -but he could not settle his thoughts to the perusal of the journal. He -read an article through, from beginning to end; and, when he reached -the termination, he had not retained a single idea of the subject. - -The fact was that the man’s mind was excited and bewildered by the -scene which had taken place that afternoon with his master. He -felt that he had been trampled upon--treated with every possible -indignity--despised, menaced, and almost spit upon;--and he was -compelled to suffer all--to bear everything--to endure those flagrant -wrongs, without daring to murmur. - -“But I will be avenged--terribly avenged!” thought he within himself, -as he bent over the table in the public-house parlour, supporting -his head upon his two hands: “yes--even though I should sacrifice -myself, I will be avenged sooner or later. For years and years have -I been his slave--his menial--his instrument--his tool;--and he has -kept me in such utter subjection that it was not until lately I -remembered that I really possessed a soul and a spirit of my own. -The hard-hearted--cruel--remorseless wretch! I hate and abhor him -with a malignant hatred and a savage abhorrence. No words are strong -enough--no terms sufficiently potent to convey even to myself an idea -of the magnitude of that aversion which I now entertain for him. But -if he has me in his power in one way, he is at my mercy in many other -others. He little suspects how deep an insight I possess into his -affairs--his machinations--his dark plots. He thinks that I behold but -the surface: he knows not that I have fathomed to the bottom!” - -At this point in the clerk’s musings, the door of the parlour was -opened, and a respectable-looking man, dressed in black, but with a -white cravat entered the room. - -“You are somewhat behind your time, Mr. Fitzgeorge,” said Green, as -this individual--who was Lord William Trevelyan’s valet--seated himself -by the clerk’s side. - -“Only a few minutes,” responded Fitzgeorge. “And now to business -without delay. It is fortunate that we are all alone in this parlour at -present: otherwise I should have proposed to adjourn to a private room. -Have you thought well of the subject I mentioned to you yesterday?” - -“I have,” was the answer, delivered in a tone of decision: “and I -am prepared to meet your wishes. But remember that I told you how -completely I am in the power of the villain Heathcote; and if he were -to discover that your noble master received his information through -me----” - -“He cannot possibly detect your instrumentality in the business, -provided you do not betray yourself,” said Fitzgeorge. - -“Then I cannot hesitate to serve you,” responded Green. - -“Here are a hundred pounds in advance of the sum promised you,” -continued the valet, producing bank-notes to the amount named; “and the -other moiety shall be paid the moment the information you are about to -give me shall have proved to be correct.” - -“Ah! it is a long--long time since I could call so much money my own,” -said Green, with a deep sigh, as he gazed upon the notes--half doubting -whether it were possible that they were about to find their way into -his pocket. - -“Take up the money and use despatch--for my time is precious,” -exclaimed Fitzgeorge. - -The clerk followed the first suggestion with amazing alacrity; and his -sinister countenance was now as radiant with joy as such a face could -be. - -“Your master is generous--very generous,” he said, as soon as the -notes were secured in his waistcoat-pocket; “and I will serve him to -the utmost of my power. The mad-house to which Sir Gilbert Heathcote -has been consigned, is kept by Dr. Swinton, and is situated in the -neighbourhood of the new church facing the end of the Bethnal Green -Road.” - -“I am well acquainted with the locality,” said Fitzgeorge. “The church -you speak of is in the Cambridge Road, and stands at one of the angles -of the Green?” - -“Precisely so,” answered the clerk; “and the lunatic asylum looks upon -the Green itself, its back windows commanding a view of Globe Town. But -here is the exact address,” continued the man, producing a card from -his pocket. - -“That is all I require,” said Fitzgeorge. “Three days hence you can -meet me here again; and if in the meantime I should have discovered -that Sir Gilbert Heathcote is really confined in Dr. Swinton’s asylum, -the other hundred pounds shall be handed over to you.” - -The valet and the clerk then separated. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXVI. - -DR. SWINTON. - - -The mad-house kept by Dr. Swinton was a spacious building, with a large -garden, surrounded by a high wall, at the back. - -It was by no means a gloomy-looking place, although the casements were -protected by iron bars: for to mitigate that prison-like effect, the -curtains were of a cheerful colour, and the window-sills were adorned -with flowers and verdant evergreens in bright red pots. Moreover, the -front of the house was stuccoed; and wherever paint was used, the -colours were of the gayest kind. - -The front door always stood open during the day-time, because there was -an inner door of great strength which led into the hall; and a porter -in handsome livery was constantly lounging about at the entrance. - -The Doctor himself was an elderly person, of highly respectable -appearance, and of very pleasing manners _when_ he chose to be -agreeable: but no demon could exhibit greater ferocity than he, when -compelled to exercise his authority in respect to those amongst his -patients who had no friends to care about them. - -It was between nine and ten o’clock in the evening of the day following -the interview between Fitzgeorge and Heathcote’s head clerk, that -a plain carriage and pair drove up to the door of Doctor Swinton’s -establishment. - -The porter immediately rushed forward to open the door and let down the -steps of the vehicle; and two persons alighted. - -One was a tall, handsome young man of genteel bearing, and handsomely -dressed: the other was some years older, and might be described as -respectable without having anything aristocratic in his appearance. - -“Have the kindness to say that Mr. Smithson, accompanied by his friend -Mr. Granby, requests an interview with your master,” were the words -immediately addressed to the porter by the elder of the two visitors, -while the other appeared to be gazing about him in a vacant and stolid -manner. - -“Walk in, gentlemen,” said the obsequious porter, with a low bow: he -then rang a bell, and a footman in resplendent livery opened the inner -door. - -Mr. Granby and Mr. Smithson were now conducted through a spacious -hall into an elegantly furnished parlour, lighted by a superb lustre -suspended to the ceiling. - -“The Doctor will be with you in a minute, gentlemen,” said the -domestic, who immediately retired to acquaint his master with their -arrival: but the moment the door had closed behind him, a smile of -deep meaning instantly appeared upon the lips of the visitors, as they -exchanged equally significant looks. - -In a few minutes Dr. Swinton appeared--his countenance wearing such a -benignant expression that if the Saints at Exeter Hall could only have -bribed him to attend on the platform at their May Meetings, they would -have secured a sufficiency of _outward appearance_ of philanthropy to -draw gold from the purses of even the most cynical. In fact, the doctor -was precisely the individual from whose lips might be expected a most -touching and lachrymose speech upon the “benighted condition” of the -heathen, and the absolute necessity of procuring funds for the purpose -of circulating a million of Bibles amongst the poor savages of the -Cannibal Islands. - -His thin grey hair was combed with precision over his high and massive -forehead: a smile played on his lips, showing his well-preserved -teeth;--and his eyes beamed with mildness--almost with meekness, as -if he had succeeded, by long perseverance, in resigning himself to a -profession which militated sadly against a natural benevolence of heart. - -He was dressed in deep black; his linen was of the finest material and -of snowy whiteness;--he wore a low cravat; and his enormous shirt-frill -was prevented from projecting too much by means of a diamond pin that -could not have cost less than fifty guineas. - -The middle finger of his right hand was adorned with a ring of equal -value; and a massive chain with a bunch of gold seals depended from his -fob. - -We should have observed that the Doctor wore black silk stockings and -shoes--it being evening; and we have every cause to believe that the -reader may now form a tolerably accurate idea of that gentleman’s -personal appearance. - -Leaning forward as he walked, and with a kind of mincing gait--half -familiar, and half obsequious--Dr. Swinton advanced towards the -visitors, only one of whom rose at his approach;--and this was Mr. -Smithson, the elder of the two. The other remained in an apparent state -of apathetic laziness on the sofa, where he had taken his seat. - -“Your most obedient, Mr. Smithson,” said the Doctor, proffering his -hand to the individual whom he thus addressed. “This is your friend -Mr. Granby, I presume--the gentleman of whom you made mention when you -honoured me with a visit this morning.” - -“Yes. Doctor--that is indeed my unfortunate friend Granby,” responded -Smithson, drawing the physician into the window-recess, and speaking in -a whisper. - -“He is a fine, handsome young man,” observed the mad-doctor, glancing -towards the subject of his remark, and likewise adopting a low tone. -“What a pity it is!” he added, turning towards Mr. Smithson, and -placing his fore-finger significantly to his forehead. - -“A thousand--thousand pities, Doctor!” was the reply, delivered in a -mournful voice. “Such a splendid intellect to be thus clouded!--such a -genius to be thus crushed--annihilated!” - -“No--do not anticipate such a calamity,” hastily interposed the -physician. “Rather let us hope that a judicious system--_my_ system, -Mr. Smithson--will eventually succeed in effecting a cure. But have -you the regular certificates, my dear sir?--because you are well aware -that a heavy responsibility rests upon gentlemen of my profession, who -receive patients----” - -“Everything is straightforward, Doctor,” interrupted Mr. Smithson, -producing two papers from his pocket. “These certificates are signed by -medical men of eminence, and whose honour is unimpeachable.” - -“Oh! assuredly,” exclaimed Swinton, glancing over the documents: “Dr. -Prince is an ornament to the profession--and Mr. Spicer is equally well -known. I have not the pleasure of their personal acquaintance--but -I am no stranger to their high reputation and rigid integrity. So -far, so good, my dear sir,” continued the mad-doctor, restoring the -certificates to Smithson. “And now, I think, we have little more to say -in respect to arrangements----” - -“Nothing that I am aware of,” interrupted Mr. Smithson. “When I saw -you this morning, you told me that your usual terms for first-class -patients were six hundred a-year----” - -“Each quarter payable in advance, you will please to recollect, my dear -sir,” said the physician, in a tone of bland insinuation. “It is a mere -matter of form, you know--just the bare trouble of writing a cheque at -the beginning instead of the close of the three months----” - -“Oh! pray offer no apology for such an excellent regulation,” -interrupted Smithson: “short accounts make long friends.” - -“Ah! ah! very good--very good indeed!” said the Doctor, with a jocular -cachinnation. “You are quite right, my dear sir--quite right. Shall I -give you a stamped receipt?” he asked, as Smithson placed in his hands -two bank notes--one for a hundred and the other for fifty pounds. - -“You can send me the acknowledgment at your leisure,” answered -Smithson. “And now, as I must take my leave, permit me to beseech you -to bestow all possible attention upon my unhappy friend, and to spare -no expense in rendering him as comfortable as possible. His relations, -who have empowered me thus to place him in your establishment, are very -wealthy, and will cheerfully augment the allowance, if required. No -coercion is necessary with him: he is very tractable and by no means -dangerous. At the same time, any thing resembling restraint would only -induce him to move heaven and earth to escape. He cannot even endure -to have his chamber-door locked at night; and you may safely trust him -with a candle. Indeed, he _will_ have a light. As for placing a keeper -in his room, such a step would be as unwise as it is uncalled for. But -I need not attempt to counsel a gentleman of your great experience and -well-known skill----” - -“Pardon me, my dear sir,” interrupted Dr. Swinton, drawing himself up -at the compliment thus paid to his professional ability;--“but I am -always delighted to receive any hints which the friends of my patients -are kind enough to give me; and I can assure you that your suggestions -shall be fully borne in mind. Of course you will call upon Mr. Granby -occasionally?” asked the Doctor, in a tone which was as much as to -imply that the less frequent such visits were, the better he thought it -would be. - -“Yes--I shall call now and then,” responded Smithson, catching the -physician’s meaning in a moment: “but not too often--as the visits of -friends are likely, no doubt, to produce an injurious effect on those -minds which, under the influence of your admirable system, are becoming -settled and tranquil. It is however my intention to return in a few -days, just to assure myself that Granby is comfortable, and likewise -that you are not displeased with your patient.” - -“Very good,” said the Doctor; “I shall be delighted to see you. But -will you not remain and partake of supper with us? You will then have -an opportunity of judging how I treat my patients--for we all sit down -to table together,--at least, those who belong to the first class, and -who may be termed the parlour boarders. Besides, I forgot to mention -to you this morning that the religious principles of my patients are -not neglected, and that I keep a regular chaplain in the establishment. -If you will stay to supper, you will have the pleasure of hearing him -say grace before meat, and deliver a most soul-refreshing exhortation -afterwards. Indeed, I may consider myself highly fortunate in having -secured the spiritual services and the constant companionship of such a -worthy man as the Reverend Mr. Sheepshanks.” - -“I should be much gratified by remaining to partake of your -hospitality,” answered Smithson,--“and even still more rejoiced to form -the acquaintance of such an estimable character as Mr. Sheepshanks; -but, unfortunately, my time is precious--and I must depart at once.” - -With these words Smithson turned away from the window; and approaching -Mr. Granby, who was lounging upon the sofa, seemingly gazing on -vacancy, he touched him on the shoulder, saying, “Good bye, my dear -friend: you are going to stay here for a few days with Dr. Swinton--and -you will find yourself very comfortable.” - -“I am already very comfortable,” observed Granby, beginning to play -with his fingers in a stolid, silly manner. “Can you talk with the -hands, Smithson?” - -“Oh! yes--and I will come to-morrow and hold a conversation with you by -that method,” was the answer. - -“Well--don’t forget,” said Granby; “and bring all my friends with -you,--twenty--thirty--forty of them, if you like. I shall know how to -entertain them.” - -“In that case I will bring them all, my dear fellow,” returned -Smithson: then, in a whisper to the Doctor, he observed, “You perceive -how childish he is--but perfectly harmless.” - -“Ah! I begin to fear with you that his cure will be no easy nor -speedily-accomplished matter,” responded the physician, also in a low -tone. - -“But you will do your best, Doctor, I know,” said Smithson: then, -turning once more to his friend, he exclaimed, “Good-bye, Granby--I am -off.” - -“Well, go--I don’t mean to accompany you,” answered the patient, -without moving from his recumbent position, and without even glancing -towards Smithson; but maintaining his eyes fixed upon his fingers, with -which he appeared to be practising the dumb alphabet. “Go along, I -say--I am very comfortable where I am.” - -Mr. Smithson heaved a profound sigh, and, bidding the Doctor farewell, -hurried to the carriage, with his cambric handkerchief to his eyes. - -“Ah! he feels deeply for his afflicted friend,” thought Dr. Swinton, -as he remained for a few moments on the threshold of the front door, -looking forth into the mild, clear, and beauteous night: “but I shall -be the greatest fool in existence if ever I allow Mr. Granby to recover -his reason. An annuity of six hundred pounds is not to be thrown away -in a hurry. But I must prevent this fellow Smithson from calling more -than once or twice a-year at the outside--and then only on stated days, -or else with a week’s notice. However, I shall get him here to supper -in a short time, and will then cajole him into anything I propose. He -is a soft-pated fool himself,--_that_ I can see with half an eye.” - -Having arrived at this complimentary conclusion in respect to Mr. -Smithson, the Doctor returned to the room where Mr. Granby was still -lying upon the sofa, and still playing with his fingers. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXVII. - -THE LUNATIC ASYLUM. - - -Almost immediately after the departure of Mr. Smithson, supper was -served up in a spacious and handsomely-furnished apartment. - -The table literally groaned beneath the load of plate and China spread -upon it: a splendid epergne, upon a large silver tray, occupied the -middle of the board;--and numerous crystal decanters, containing choice -wines of various sorts, sparkled in the flood of golden light poured -forth from a magnificent lustre suspended to the ceiling. - -Upwards of a dozen persons took their places at the table--all the -first-class patients partaking of their meals in the delectable society -of the Doctor. - -That eminent individual seated himself at the head of the board; -and our old friend, Mr. Sheepshanks, occupied the other extremity. -The reverend gentleman, though now well stricken in years, was so -little altered since the reader last found himself in his company, -that no minute description of his personal appearance is again -necessary: suffice it to say, that his long, pale countenance was as -sanctimoniously hypocritical at ever,--his hair, now quite grey, was -combed with its wonted sleekness over his forehead,--and his speech -was as drawling in tone and as full of cant in respect to language, -as when we beheld him holding forth to the members of the South Sea -Islands Bible Circulating Society, or figuring so ignominiously in the -Insolvents’ Court. - -Mr. Granby, being a new-comer, was placed in the post of -honour--namely, on the Doctor’s right hand: but the unfortunate young -gentleman did not appear to understand, much lest appreciate the -distinction--for he scarcely uttered a syllable, did but little justice -to the succulent viands, and remained for the most part of the time -gazing in listless vacancy straight before him. - -We should however observe that, on first being introduced into -the supper-room, he had darted a rapid and searching glance -around,--embracing with that sweeping look the countenances of the -dozen patients who were already assembled there: but immediately -afterwards he resumed his stolid, meaningless expression, as if his -mind were indeed a blank and mournful void. - -“Now, Mr. Sheepshanks,” said the Doctor, when all were duly seated at -the table, “will you ask the usual blessing?” - -“With your permission, most respected sir,” replied the reverend -gentleman: then, with a countenance as rueful as if he were about to go -forth to the place of execution, he drawled out a lengthy grace in such -a droning voice, that one of the lunatics fell fast asleep, and did not -wake up again until the savoury odour of a plate of roast duck which -was placed before him recalled to him his recollection and his supper. - -“How do you find yourself this evening, Mr. Sheepshanks?” inquired Dr. -Swinton, after having assured himself that all his guests were duly -served. “You were complaining of a bilious attack this morning.” - -“Alas! yes, kind sir,” responded the reverend gentleman, in a most -doleful tone and with a profound sigh: “it pleased the Lord to ordain -that the salmon of which I partook bountifully at yesterday’s dinner -should disagree with me--or peradventure it was the cucumber;--but, by -the aid of the Divine blessing and the black draught, my dear patron, -I have pretty well come round again. Nevertheless, I feel my appetite -failing me.” - -And as he uttered these words, Mr. Sheepshanks helped himself to about -a pound and a quarter of pigeon-pie--that being his second attack on -the same dish. - -“I shall be happy to assist you to some roast duck, Mr. Sheepshanks,” -said the Doctor, after a pause of about seven minutes. - -“It would be an act of rudeness to decline an offer which bespeaks -such delicate attentions on your part, worthy sir,” returned the pious -gentleman. “I have just managed to pick a morsel of this savoury pie; -and I will endeavour to get through the wing of a duck, with heaven’s -assistance.” - -“So you shall,” said the Doctor. “In the meantime I recommend you to -take a little wine--for your stomach’s sake.” - -“Ah! that was salutary advice which Paul gave to Timothy--‘_a little -wine for the stomach’s sake_,’” drawled out the excellent Mr. -Sheepshanks;--and to prove that he really thought so, he filled a -tumbler with claret and imbibed the delicious draught without a pause. - -By this time a plate, containing the wing, leg, and part of the breast -of a duck, was placed before him; and, with a hollow groan as if he -thought he should never get through it all, he commenced the attack. - -We may here observe that the Doctor, who was a widower, was fond -of good living himself, and was well pleased when he found any one -inclined to keep him company in the enjoyment of the pleasures of -the table. For this reason he especially admired the Reverend Mr. -Sheepshanks; and he well knew that when his chaplain pretended to have -no appetite at all, he was in reality prepared to do ample justice to -every dish. Hence the copious supply of duck which the physician had -sent him; and that hospitable gentleman heard with secret pleasure the -groan which Mr. Sheepshanks had given, and which was a sure indication -that the modesty of the reverend glutton would be so far overcome as to -induce him to allow the Doctor to help him again presently. - -And here we may likewise remark that Swinton was no niggard of his good -cheer. If he kept an excellent table, he liked to see justice done to -the viands served up; and, as he received handsome remuneration from -the friends of his first-class patients, he could well afford to regale -them sumptuously, and amass a splendid fortune out of them into the -bargain. - -In conversation of the trivial kind of which we have just recorded -a specimen, did the Doctor and Sheepshanks pass the time during -supper,--the patients all maintaining a profound silence, and -conducting themselves with the most perfect propriety. Indeed, were -it not for a certain vacancy in the eyes of some, and a peculiar but -inexplicable expression in the looks of the rest, it were impossible -for a stranger to believe that there were any lunatics at all in the -room. - -After supper Mr. Sheepshanks delivered himself of a long prayer;--but -as his libations had been somewhat copious, in spite of his -bilious attack, his voice was occasionally so thick as to be -unintelligible,--and it appeared as if he at times fancied himself to -be an Irvingite speaking in the unknown tongues. Towards the conclusion -of his oration, which very much resembled a funeral sermon in those -parts where the meaning and sense could be caught, the reverend -gentleman became so much affected that he began to weep; and had a -maliciously-disposed person been present, he would have probably -entertained the derogatory notion that Mr. Sheepshanks was in that -maudlin condition vulgarly termed “crying drunk.” - -However, the affair passed off to the satisfaction of the worthy -Doctor, who, as he thought of all that his chaplain had eaten and drunk -during the evening, felt really proud of having beneath his roof a man -of such splendid qualifications. - -The after-supper oration being concluded, the keepers, all dressed in -plain clothes, made their appearance to conduct the patients to their -respective chambers; but as this was Granby’s first night in the house, -the Doctor volunteered to show him to the apartment prepared for his -reception. - -The new inmate of the asylum immediately obeyed the hint which the -physician gave him relative to the hour for retiring; and he was -forthwith escorted up a handsome staircase to a long corridor on the -second floor. From this passage, which was carpeted, adorned with -statues in recesses, and lighted by lamps hanging to the ceiling, -opened several rooms, the doors of which were numbered. - -At the entrance to the passage the Doctor pulled a wire which -communicated with a bell on the storey overhead; and a matronly, -respectable-looking woman made her appearance in answer to the summons. - -“Which chamber is Mr. Granby to occupy, Mrs. Probert?” said the Doctor -to his housekeeper--for such was the situation filled by the female. - -“I have moved the gentleman--you know whom I mean, sir--that was in -Number 7----” - -“Ah! I understand,” interrupted the physician, with some degree of -impatience, as if he were afraid that his housekeeper was about to be -more communicative than was necessary in the presence of the stranger. -“Well--you have removed a certain person----” - -“To Number 12, sir,” replied Mrs. Probert; “and therefore Mr. Granby -will please to occupy Number 7.” - -“Very good,” said the Doctor. “Now, Mr. Granby, my dear friend--have -the kindness to follow me.” - -The request was instantaneously obeyed; and the physician conducted -his docile patient into the room that had been selected for him, and -which was indeed the most spacious, airy, and elegantly furnished -bed-chamber in the whole establishment. It was usually appropriated -to any new-comer of the first class whose friends appeared to take an -interest in him; so that on the occasion of their first visit after his -location in the asylum, the doctor might be enabled to show them, with -pride, and even triumph, the magnificent apartment in which the patient -was lodged. It was afterwards an easy matter to remove him to another -and inferior, though still comfortable chamber--so as to make room for -another arrival; and it was very seldom that a lunatic ever thought of -mentioning to his friends, when they visited him again, the change of -apartments that had taken place. - -Having introduced Mr. Granby into the elegantly furnished chamber, the -Doctor placed the candle upon the table, wished the young gentleman a -good night’s rest, and then retired--closing, but not locking, the door -behind him. - -The moment he had departed, a remarkable and signal change took place -in the appearance and manner of Mr. Granby. His countenance lost its -stolid vacancy of expression, and became animated with its natural -intelligence; and, instead of seeming a dull, drivelling idiot, he -stood erect--a fine intrepid young man, conscious of the possession of -superior mental faculties, and prepared to carry out effectually the -scheme which had already been so successfully commenced. - -Indeed, all further mystery in this respect being unnecessary, we may -as well at once declare that the fictitious Mr. Granby was the real -Lord William Trevelyan--and that Smithson, who had so well performed -the part of an afflicted and faithful friend, was none, other than the -astute valet, Fitzgeorge. - -The young nobleman had made confidants of his two friends, Dr. -Prince and Mr. Spicer, who at his request had drawn up and signed the -certificates necessary to procure his introduction into the abode of -Dr. Swinton. - -We must likewise here observe that when the short colloquy had occurred -between the Doctor and his housekeeper, it instantly struck Trevelyan -that allusion was made by them to Sir Gilbert Heathcote as being the -individual whose sleeping-place had been changed from No. 7 to No. -12. He had noticed that the woman had observed a degree of mystery in -referring, in the first instance, to the late occupant of the best -bed-room--and that the Doctor, as if fearful that walls had ears, or -that even a lunatic (such as he believed Trevelyan to be) might learn -a dangerous secret, had hastily interposed to prevent Mrs. Probert -from making a more direct allusion. All these circumstances induced -Trevelyan to conjecture that the late occupant of his room was none -other than Sir Gilbert; and, if this were the case, he had acquired the -certainty that the baronet was the tenant of a neighbouring apartment -in the same corridor. - -It was now eleven o’clock; and the young nobleman resolved to wait -until a much later hour ere he took any steps in pursuance of the -clue which he believed himself to have gained relative to the chamber -occupied by his persecuted friend. - -He walked to the window, and looked forth through the iron bars, upon -the mass of narrow lanes and squalid alleys constituting the suburb -known as Globe Town, and all the features of which were brought vividly -forward in the powerful moonlight,--for the atmosphere was as bright as -if it were of transparent quicksilver. - -But in a few minutes, Trevelyan grew wearied of the sameness of the -prospect, so still and inanimate at that hour; and he began to examine, -more minutely than at first, the chamber in which he found himself. - -A massive wardrobe of dark mahogany, and elaborately carved, -particularly attracted his notice; and, impelled by that curiosity -which frequently seizes upon persons who seek to while away an hour or -two by any means that opportunity or accident may afford, he opened -the large and heavy doors. There were several shelves inside, filled -with blankets and counterpanes, evidently deposited there during the -summer-months, when the beds required less clothing than in winter. - -Trevelyan was about to close the doors, when he suddenly caught sight -of something that appeared to be a roll of papers thrust between the -blankets. He drew forth the object of his attention, and found that his -conjecture was correct; for he held in his hand a manuscript consisting -of several folios of foolscap closely written upon in a genteel and -fluent style. - -A farther examination of the papers showed him, by means of certain -dates, that the manuscript was only recently composed; and an -indescribable feeling of interest, superior to any thing like vulgar -curiosity, prompted him to read the documents that had thus strangely -fallen into his possession. - -Besides, he had determined to let a couple of hours slip away ere he -took any step in pursuance of the design that had brought him to the -mad-house; and he was by no means sorry at having discovered a mode of -passing the interval otherwise than by restlessly pacing his chamber or -gazing from the window. - -He accordingly seated himself at the table, and commenced the perusal -of the extraordinary document that will be found in the ensuing chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXVIII. - -THE CONFESSIONS OF A LUNATIC. - - -“My blood has been boiling like a lava-stream. It appears to me as if -I can now freely respire the fresh air, after having only breathed -by gasps. What agony, then, has it been that has thus convulsed my -soul?--of what kind was the anguish which has left such strange and -unnatural sensations behind? Have I just awakened from a reverie -of burning thoughts and appalling visions?--or was there any truth -in the hideous things which seem to have passed like a frightful -phantasmagoria through my brain? What means this suffocating sob that -has struggled upward, and as it were spontaneously from my breast? -O God! it appears to me now as if the wildest--most maniacal ideas -have crowded into volumes, but become compressed into instants! Do I -rave?--am I really here--in a room elegantly furnished--and seated at -this table, writing? Is the bright sun-light streaming in at the open -casement?--and does the breeze penetrate into the chamber, fanning my -feverish cheek and throbbing brow, and wafting to me the delicious -perfume of flowers? Is all this true--or a dream? Am I still a denizen -of the earth,--that earth of which I seem for some time to have lost -all forgetfulness--dwelling during the interval in a chaos peopled with -horrible images--ghastly spectres--frightful beings of nondescript -shape? Oh, I remember--I found this paper, this pen, and this ink in -that large and massive ward-robe so exquisitely carved;--and something -tells me that there are persons watching my movements--spying my -actions--and who will be angry with me--perhaps ill-treat me--if they -behold me writing down my ideas. Oh! I am afraid--I am afraid. My God! -where am I? There is a hurry in my brain--my blood again begins to -boil--my hand trembles as I write. But wherefore do I write at all? I -know not:--and yet it seems to do me good! - -“If any persons--any of those men whom I remember to have seen just -now--should endeavour to enter the room, I will hide my papers in -yonder ward-robe. Or else under the bed?--or between the mattresses? -No: in that ward-robe--it is the safest place, I feel confident. - -“But why should I not go forth and walk in that garden which I can -see from the window?--or else penetrate into the fields at a great -distance, and lie down and think? If the breeze coming into this room, -does me good, how much more refreshed should I feel were I to ramble -about in the open country! Yes--I will go. - -“What does this mean? I have tried the door--and it is locked! Who -dares to treat me thus--_me_--a gentleman of birth and fortune? I will -not endure such conduct: I will appeal to my brother, the magistrate, -for protection. He shall hang the wretches who have perpetrated this -insolence. - -“O God! what do I see? There are bars at the window! Great heavens! I -shall go mad! - - * * * * * - -“MAD! Yes--that was the last word that I wrote yesterday--I suppose -it must have been yesterday--when I so hastily concealed my -papers, on hearing some one approach the door. I remember _that_ -full well! Yes--it was an elderly man, with a mild and benevolent -countenance--dressed in black, with linen beautifully white--and with -a massive chain and seals. I looked at him well: but I knew him not. I -do not think that I ever saw him before. He sate down by my side--felt -my pulse--and asked me several questions. Ah! a thought flashes to my -mind: that good old gentleman is a doctor. And now,--yes--I think I can -recollect it all,--I abused him--I insulted him very grossly;--and then -some men entered and compelled me to go to bed. They undressed me by -force. I struggled against them; but it was useless. - -“Oh! what does it all mean? Why those men to coerce me?--why that -doctor to attend upon me?--and why those bars at the window? Gracious -God! it cannot be--no--no--the horrible thought---- - -“Yes: it must be so--I am really mad! - - * * * * * - -“Again I sit down, calmly and tranquilly, to write. I have weighed well -my condition--have asked myself a thousand questions--have read what -I have written above--have striven to recollect all the past--have -carefully examined the present--and have dared to think of the future. -By all this--and by the bars at the window--I know that I am _mad_! - -“Yes: but I can write the word now without growing excited; and I -must practise writing it again, so that I may by degrees gather to my -aid such an amount of self-possession as to be able to trace on this -paper all that has occurred to me. Then shall I possess a positive -memorial--a substantial key to the past; and should I again forget, in -an interval of delirium, all that has occurred, I can speedily recommit -the mournful history to my memory during a lucid interval like the -present. - -“_Mad--mad--mad--mad!_ There--now I can write the word without the -least excitement; and this is a triumph already achieved. By gaining -a complete and accurate knowledge of my real position, I shall know -how to act. I am aware that I am in a lunatic asylum: I am also aware -that I have passed through intervals of fearful delirium. But I must -compose myself as much as possible. I cannot remain in this horrible -place;--and if I cannot become really sane again, I may at all events -pretend to be so--and then they will let me out. But in order to regain -my intellects, or appear to recover my reason, I must remember all that -has occurred to me, so as to be enabled to converse calmly and sensibly -on the subject. Stay! I will think--I will reflect profoundly for the -rest of the day; and to-morrow I will resume my pen. - -“God forbid that the doctor or his men--or that prying old housekeeper, -should look into the wardrobe! I would not lose my manuscript for -worlds. - - * * * * * - - “_June 13th, 1846._ - -“I have learnt the day of the month. The doctor has been with me for -an hour; and he readily complied with my request to be furnished with -an almanack. He told me that this is the 13th of June; and henceforth -I hope I shall be enabled to keep the dates accurately. When I was -at school--but that is many years ago!--I used to make an almanack -to calculate how long it was to the holidays; and every evening I -scratched out the day that had just passed. Oh! happy--happy age of -boyhood--wilt thou never come back? hast thou gone for ever? Now must -I erase each day as it passes, and hope that the period of my release -is near at hand. _That_ shall be the holiday of my manhood, to which I -must look forward with such anxious--fervid--burning hope! - -“But to my narrative. - -“A hundred thousand pounds became mine on the day that I attained my -majority. That was nine years ago! I was my own master: my parents had -long been dead--and my guardians attempted not even to advise me--much -less control me. They were not relations--mere men of business to whom -my fortune had been intrusted, with a view to its accumulation. The -moment I became possessed of that wealth, I plunged headlong into the -vortex of pleasure. Heavens! in what dissipation did I indulge. Who -could drink deeper than I, and walk home steadily afterwards?--who -was more sought after and caressed amongst the fair sex?--who was -a more constant attendant at race-courses, gaming-houses, and the -haunts of fashionable vice and aristocratic debauchery? Fool that -I was! I imagined that to spend money profusely, was to enjoy life -largely. I had three mistresses at the same time,--three women, having -each a separate establishment, maintained at my cost! What were the -consequences? At five-and-twenty my constitution was nearly ruined, -and eighty thousand pounds of my fortune had been expended. The very -principles of my existence seemed to be undermined--disease was gnawing -at my vitals--an unbroken career of the wildest dissipation was -hurrying me, with race-horse speed, to the tomb! - -“Suddenly I awoke, as from a dream. But it was not because remorse -touched me,--nor because good counsels were proffered me,--nor because -some latent feelings of virtue sprang into existence. Neither was it -because my fortune was nearly wasted and my health failing rapidly. -No: but it was because I at that epoch saw my Editha for the first -time! Oh! how can I retain my calmness _now_, when I think of her as -I _then_ beheld her,--beheld her in all the glory of her matchless -beauty--radiant with that loveliness that seemed to surround her with -the halo that only angels have! Yes--I was then twenty-five, and Editha -Greville was nineteen--that delightful age when the female figure -swells into womanly loveliness--round, full, and exquisitely modelled! - -“We loved--almost at first sight; and though several weeks passed ere -I ventured to declare my passion, I could read in Editha’s eyes that -I was far from being displeasing to her. She was an only child; her -father was dead; her mother, though a woman of considerable wealth, -mixed little in society; and the wildness of my conduct was not -therefore fully known to Mrs. Greville. At the same time, she had heard -that I was extravagant and imprudent; but when I implored her to bestow -upon me the hand of her daughter, she yielded her assent, expressing -a hope that I had sown all my wild oats by that time, and should grow -steady in a matrimonial state. Thus was it that I became the recognised -suitor of Editha; and when some of Mrs. Greville’s friends, who knew -me well, represented to her that I was notoriously a half-ruined rake, -the old lady had too much confidence in all the promises of reformation -which I had made, to revoke the consent she had given to our union. -Besides, she saw that Editha was deeply attached to me, and that the -beauteous girl’s happiness depended on the smooth progress of love’s -course. - -[Illustration] - -“But, alas! painful thoughts forced themselves upon my mind. I felt -that my constitution was ruined--and I believed myself to be in a -consumption. Faithful to the solemn pledges which I had made to Mrs. -Greville, I established a complete change in my habits; and instead of -drinking wine to excess, I foreswore all alcoholic liquor whatsoever. -Likewise, instead of passing my nights in dissipation, I returned -home at an early hour and sought my couch. But the suddenness of this -alteration in my habits produced effects which I can only compare to -the terrible reaction that a man experiences when waking in the morning -after a night of deep debauch. A dead weight fell upon my spirits. I -became so low and depressed that horrible thoughts of suicide were -constantly floating in my brain. My nervousness was extreme, and -intensely painful. An unusually loud knock or ring at the front-door -would make me start as if I had committed a crime and was expecting -the officers of justice to come and arrest me. I was constantly -conjuring up the most shocking visions respecting the future; and when -immersed in those reveries, I verily believed that I was contemplating -realities--such was the morbid state of my mind! - -“It was therefore natural that I should begin to reflect upon the step -which I had taken with regard to Editha. I had sought and won the -affections of a beautiful creature, who was possessed of a generous -heart, an amiable disposition, and a loving soul; and I was shocked to -think that such a being, in all the vigorous health of youthfulness, -should be led to the altar by one whose constitution was shattered, -whose vital energies were almost ruined, and who seemed to be hovering -on the very verge of the tomb! Oh! how maddening were these thoughts! -I looked upon myself as a villain--a deceiver; and often--often was I -on the point of throwing myself at Mrs. Greville’s feet and exclaiming, -‘_Pardon me, madam, for having dared to ask the hand of your daughter -in marriage! I am but a phantom--a shadow: the finger of Death is upon -me,--and if Editha should accompany me to the altar, it is probable -that in less than a year she will have to follow me to the tomb!_’--But -when I thought of Editha’s matchless beauty, and pondered upon the -immensity of the love that I experienced for her, I could not command -the courage necessary to enable me to resign the hope of possessing -such a treasure. Besides, in her society I could smile and be gay: her -musical voice was more ravishing to my ears than the inspired strains -of an improvisatrice;--her breath was more fragrant than the perfume of -flowers--her lips more delicious than the honey-dew upon the blossoms! -Oh! no--no: I could not resign my Editha! But no day had been as yet -fixed for our marriage--and six weeks had already elapsed since I had -proposed and was accepted. Shall I confess the truth? I dared not -ask her mother to name the day: I shrank from the idea as if I were -meditating a murder--had marked out my victim--but dreaded to settle -in my own mind the night and the hour when the assassin-blow should be -struck! - -“I was lying in bed one morning, reflecting on all these things--for -the dark fit of despondency was upon me--when my valet entered the -room with the morning’s newspapers. I listlessly unfolded one of the -journals, when my eyes suddenly caught sight of an advertisement, -headed thus:--‘_Manhood, the Reasons of its Early Decline; with Plain -Hints for its Complete Resuscitation._’ This book was announced to -be an emanation from the pen of T. L. Surtees and Co., Consulting -Surgeons, residing in one of the streets leading out of Soho Square; -and it appeared by certain quotations of notices from the leading -newspapers, that the book was a medical treatise of great utility, -merit, and importance. Hope now dawned in upon my soul. Perhaps my -constitution was not irretrievably damaged? Perchance I might not be in -a consumption, after all? Such were my thoughts, after perusing that -advertisement over and over again; and I resolved to lose no time in -calling upon the able practitioners who undertook the resuscitation -of any constitution, no matter how hopeless the case might seem. -Accordingly, having hastily dressed myself, I repaired in a street -cab to the address indicated in the advertisement. The house was one -of imposing appearance; and the words ‘_Surtees and Co., Consulting -Surgeons_,’ were displayed in deep-black letters, on immense shining -zinc-plates. The fawn-coloured Venetian blinds were drawn down; and -I said to myself, as I alighted with a fluttering heart, ‘Doubtless -these eminent practitioners have patients waiting in every room to -consult them.’ Entering the passage, I found an inner door, with a -bronze knocker and a ground-glass fan-light, on which were inscribed -the same words as those that appeared on the polished zinc-plates. I -was immediately admitted by a footman, and conducted up stairs to a -drawing-room, every feature of which is at this moment as fresh in my -memory as if I were seated and writing there now. - -“This apartment at first sight impressed me with an idea of luxurious -splendour; but a closer examination into its appointments showed me -that the most vulgar taste had presided over its fitting-up. The paper -was of crimson and gold; and to the walls were suspended several -paintings set in magnificent frames, which only rendered the daubs the -more miserably ludicrous. Two of them were covered with plate-glass, -as if they were very valuable; whereas they were as wretched as the -others. ‘Some unprincipled person,’ thought I, ‘must have imposed -upon these worthy doctors, by recommending pictures to which I would -not accord house-room. But men of philosophic minds and who are -devoted to professional studies, are seldom good judges of works of -art.’ Thus ruminating, I continued my examination of the apartment; -and I was struck with surprise at the utter vulgarity and absence of -taste which characterised the profusion of French porcelain ornaments -scattered about. Here was a Chinese Joss, with a moveable head: and -there was a pedlar mounted on a gigantic goat. At the corners of the -fire-place were two paintings evidently cut out of a picture, and -representing little charity-school girls. In the centre of the room -stood a loo-table, upon which a writing-desk was placed; and this was -surrounded by medical publications, bearing on their title-pages the -magical names of those gentlemen whom I was so anxiously waiting to -see. I had the curiosity to open one of the works: but I was disgusted -with the obscenity of the coloured plates which it contained. A -moment’s reflection, however, induced me to believe that there could -be nothing indecent in the development of the divine art of surgery; -and I felt ashamed of myself for having even for an instant entertained -such scruples. As a concluding observation respecting the drawing-room -itself, I must remark that its entire appearance indicated the taste of -a vulgar upstart, rather than the refined elegance of a polished mind. - -“Having waited nearly three quarters of an hour, a footman made his -appearance, and, with many obsequious bows, conducted me down stairs -into a dining-room most gaudily and extravagantly furnished. The -same grovelling vulgarity of taste which I had noticed elsewhere -was apparent in the crimson damask curtains with yellow fringes and -tassels--the looking-glasses in ponderous frames--the showy daubs -suspended to the walls--and the furniture arranged for the purpose of -display. Folding-doors admitted me into an inner apartment, of equally -vulgar appearance; and beyond was a little room, only a few feet -square, and which the footman, as he ushered me in, denominated _the -surgery_. - -“I must confess that my heart beat violently as I traversed those -two apartments leading to the _sanctum_ where I expected to find -myself in the presence of the eminent medical practitioners. I had -pictured to myself a couple of old and venerable-looking gentlemen, -with genius stamped upon their high bald foreheads, and their eyes -expressing all the powers of vigorous intellects. I was therefore -somewhat surprised when, on being introduced into the surgery, I beheld -only one individual, who was the very reverse of the portraiture I -had drawn by anticipation. His features were of the Jewish cast: his -complexion was of that swarthy and greasy description peculiar to the -lower order of the Hebrew race;--his hair was black and very thick; -and his whiskers met beneath his chin. His eyes were dark, and one -of them was larger than the other: his bottle-nose was rather on one -side; and his countenance altogether was as ignoble, as vulgar, and -as unintellectual as ever served as an index to a sordid, grovelling -soul. His dress was of the flashy kind which belongs partly to the -upstart or _parvenu_, and partly to the swell-mob’s-man. He wore a blue -dress-coat, a gaudy waistcoat, and large loose trousers hollowed at the -instep so as to be shaped to the polished leathern boot. A profusion of -jewellery decorated his person;--a thick gold chain, with a large key, -depended to his watch--his worked shirt was fastened with diamond and -blue enamel studs;--and his dirty hands were covered with costly rings, -which appeared as ill-placed upon the clumsy, grimy fingers as pearls -would be round the neck of a pig. - -“Such was the individual in whose presence I found myself; and had I -not been at the time in such a desperate state of mind that I was eager -to clutch at a straw, I should at once have seen through the man and -his system. But I reassured myself with the adage which teaches that -we should never judge by outward appearances; and it flashed to my -mind that many men remarkable for the brilliancy of their intellect, -were far from being prepossessing in either person, manners, or -address. Moreover, I never had partaken in the shameful, unjust, and -absurd prejudices which too many of my fellow-countrymen entertain in -respect to the Jews; and therefore the mere fact of this Mr. Surtees -being a member of the Hebrew race produced on my mind no unfavourable -impression with regard to him. - -“‘Pray be seated,’ said the medical gentleman, with a tone and -manner which I at the time mistook for professional independence, -but which I have since discovered to be the vulgar insolence of an -ignorant, self-sufficient upstart. I took a chair in compliance with -the invitation given; and when he had seated himself at his desk, he -extended his dirty but jewel-bedizened paw, saying, ‘Vill you obleege -me vith yer card?’--I did as requested; but not without a little -hesitation, for I had hoped to avoid giving my name and address.--‘Ah! -I see,’ said Mr. Surtees, in a musing tone, as he examined the card: -‘_Mr. Macdonald_,’ he continued, reading my name. ‘By the vay, air -you any relation to the Markiss of Burlington? ’cos his family name -is the same as your’n.’--I replied that I was not a relative of the -nobleman mentioned.--‘Vell, it don’t sinnify,’ proceeded Mr. Surtees. -‘The Markiss is a hexcellent friend of mine. He lays under a sight -of hobligations to me. He come to me in the first hinstance vith a -constitootion so veared out and shattered that no medical carpenter in -all Hingland could have mended it up except me. But in the course of a -foo weeks I putt him as right as a trivet; and now he’d go through fire -and vater to sarve me. It on’y cost him a couple of thousand pounds to -get quite cured; and that was cheap enow, ’evvins knows! But how comed -you to call upon me this mornin’? Were it in consekvence of having -perooged von of my medical vorks? Ah! them sells vell, them does! Or -were it ’cos you seed my adwer_tise_ment in the noospapers?’--I was -so completely bewildered by this outpouring of execrable English and -vile grammar, that for some moments I was utterly unable to answer the -questions put to me. Was it possible that this coarse, ignorant, and -self-sufficient vulgarian could be an eminent medical authority--the -author of valuable publications--the celebrated surgeon whom the -extracts from newspapers[21] quoted in his advertisement, spoke of so -highly? I was astounded. But again did hope blind me to what the man -really was: again did I reassure myself by the reflection that Mr. -Surtees might be an excellent surgeon, although he was a miserable -grammarian; and I accordingly recovered my self-possession sufficiently -to inform him that I had called in consequence of reading his -advertisement in the newspapers. - -“The doctor seemed pleased at my answer, and immediately exclaimed, -‘Vell, sir, and vot a blessin’ it is that people _do_ read -adwer_tise_ments: ’cos vy? they gets at the knowledge of heminent -medikle prektishoners, which has devoted their lives to the hart of -ealing all kinds of diseases. You see before you, sir,’ he continued, -in a pompous tone, and with arrogant air, ‘a man vot knows hevery hin -and hout of the human constitootion. No von knows so vell as myself wot -consumption raly is.’--‘Then you have made consumption your particular -study, sir?’ I observed, seeing that he paused, in order to elicit some -remark from me.--‘Rayther!’ was his laconic answer. ‘The fact is,’ he -continued, ‘foo medikle men is aweer what consumption is, nor in vot -part of the frame it begins. Vy, I vonce knowed a gentleman, sir, which -had a rapid decline begin in the great toe of his left foot, and travel -up’ards, till it spread itself over the hentire system. The doctors -had all give him up, and the undertaker was actiwally thinking of the -good job he should soon have putt into his hand, ven I vos consulted. I -made him take seventeen bottles of my bootiful _Balm of Zura_, and he -rekivered in less than a fortnit.’ - -“Weak, nervous, and attenuated as I was, this anecdote made a deep -impression upon me. I forgot the bad grammar--I lost sight of the -arrogance and self-sufficient vulgarity: I saw and heard only the man -who solemnly assured me that he had redeemed a fellow-creature from the -jaws of death, when all other members of the faculty had given up the -case as hopeless. Mr. Surtees doubtless perceived that he had worked -me up to the pitch suitable to his purposes; and he accordingly said, -‘Vell, my good sir, vill you be so good as to explain wot it is that -you’ve come to consult me for?’ I then frankly and candidly confessed -that I had expended four-fifths of a large fortune in a career of -unbroken dissipation--that my constitution was grievously impaired, -if not absolutely ruined--that since I had given up drinking and all -other sources of unnatural excitement, I was subject to such frequent -fits of despondency that the idea of suicide was almost constantly -in my imagination--that I loved and was beloved by a beautiful girl -who was possessed of property--but that I felt afraid to contract the -matrimonial engagement, lest I should leave her an unprotected widow in -the course of a short time. Mr. Surtees listened with great attention; -and when I had concluded, he appeared to reflect profoundly. At length -he said, ‘Vell, let’s feel yer pulse.’--I extended my hand towards -him; and he applied his thumb to a part of my wrist where I did not -suppose that a pulse lay: but I concluded at the time that his great -proficiency in medicine had led him to discover a new pulse, and that -the best mode to test it was with the thumb.--‘Wery veak pulse indeed!’ -he said, shaking his head with as much solemnity as the Chinese Joss -up in his drawing-room might have been expected to display. ‘But don’t -go for to give vay to despair, my dear sir; the case is a bad ’un, I -admit--a wery, wery bad ’un; and I can’t say as how that I ever knowed -a wusser. Pray, who’s the young lady which you intends to marry? I’ve -a motive in axing.’--I thought that as the learned gentleman was -already acquainted with my name and address, there could be no harm in -answering this new question, the more especially as even if I refused -to reply, he could easily institute those enquiries that would lead to -a knowledge of the fact: I accordingly satisfied him on that head. ‘Ah! -I don’t know her,’ he observed, carelessly: then, after a few moments’ -reflection, he said ‘Vell, I undertake to cure you; but the business -vill be a hexpensive von. You must write me a cheque for a hundred -guineas, my consultation fee; and then I’ll tell you wot you must do -next.’--Reassured by the promises he thus held out, I unhesitatingly -gave him a draft for the amount demanded. He then opened a drawer, -and drew forth a small case containing six bottles. ‘This here is -the rale elixir of life,’ he said, in a tone of solemn mystery: ‘it -inwigorates the constitootion in no time, and puts a reglar stopper on -the adwance of consumption. The Grand Turk has a case sent every veek -to him through his Hambassador, and all the crowned heads in Europe is -patients of mine, I may say. Take a bottle of this bootiful balm daily; -and ven it’s all gone, come back again to me. The price of them six is -fifteen guineas; and you can write me out another cheque at vonce.’--I -hastened to comply with this demand; and Mr. Surtees bowed me out of -the surgery. - -“But here I must leave off writing; for I am wearied--my brain begins -to grow confused--and my memory fails me. Oh! what a fool--what an -idiot I was, not to have seen through the man and his quackery on the -occasion of that visit, the particulars of which I have detailed at -such length. - - * * * * * - - “_June 18th, 1846._ - -“I again resume my narrative. Five days have elapsed since I last put -pen to paper; and that interval has been one of darkness. Yes--the fit -was upon me: but it has passed--and I am now calm and collected once -again. I have just read over all that I have written above; and I have -laughed heartily at the fidelity and minuteness of my description of -the first visit that I paid to the quack-doctor. Let me now continue my -narrative; for the incidents are once more all fresh and vivid in my -memory. - -“I am well aware that the imagination has much to do with our diseases -and our cures. Possessed of what I deemed to be a salutary medicine, -my spirits rose; and at the close of each of the six days during which -the supply of balm lasted, I said to myself, ‘I certainly feel stronger -and better.’ The fits of despondency were far less frequent, and less -intense: my appetite improved--and the colour came partially back -to my cheeks. This change was no doubt effected principally by the -steady life which I adopted, and by the increased mental tranquillity -which I experienced. I was moreover filled with hope that a complete -restoration to health would be accomplished; and thus, while at the -time I attributed everything to the medicine, I have not the least -doubt that the stuff was utterly valueless in itself. Editha was -rejoiced to find my spirits so much improving; and her mother expressed -her delight at the regular habits which I had adopted. I did not -mention to a soul my visit to Mr. Surtees: that was my secret--and a -sense of shame made me cherish it religiously. At the expiration of the -week I called upon him again, and on this occasion was at once admitted -into his surgery. There was another fee of a hundred guineas--another -six bottles of medicine prescribed, and another cheque given for the -amount thereof. He asked me if I had read his book yet; and I was -compelled to reply in the negative. ‘Vell, never mind,’ he said; ‘I -ain’t offended; but you shall have a hopportunlty of perooging it -before you come agen. I’ll jest step up into the drawing-room and get -you von.’ He accordingly quitted the surgery; and during his temporary -absence an irresistible feeling of curiosity prompted me to look at a -note which lay open upon the table. I read it; and thus it ran, word -for word:--‘_Dear Joe, You ax me 2 lend you mi dipplomy for a few days, -just to make a show with to a new payshent; but i vunce for all tell -you as how i’d rayther not lett it go out of my house. Besides, it’s of -no use to you, ’cos it’s made out in the name of La’Vert, and you’ve -took the name of Surtees. So no more from your affecshonate brother, -&c._’--This note was signed by the name of La’Vert; and therefore it -was apparent that the real appellation of my friend Mr. Surtees was -Joseph La’Vert. It struck me in a moment that I had become the dupe -of a quack; but I had sufficient command over myself to restrain my -indignation when he returned to the room. He was accompanied by a -woman--I cannot say a lady--whom he introduced to me as his wife. And -here I must pause to say a few descriptive words of her. - -“Mrs. Surtees was a vulgar, dark-complexioned Jewess, with a long -hooked nose. Her flesh seemed as if it had been smeared with oil, and -then wiped with a dry towel; but on her cheeks she wore an immoderate -quantity of rouge. She was exceedingly stout, with an enormous bust: -her hair, rough and wavy, was arranged in bands and plastered down -with quince-pips. She was dressed in the most outrageous style, and -as she herself expressed it, ’was about to go hout for a haring in -the carridge.’ Her gown was of green velvet; her shawl of bright red; -and her bonnet of rose pink, adorned with a profusion of artificial -flowers, inside and out. She wore very pink silk stockings and short -petticoats, as she had conceived the erroneous impression that there -was something attractive in her elephantine leg. As a matter of course, -she carried a complete jeweller’s shop about her person. She wore no -gloves; and her large red hands were covered with rings. Her ear-rings -were of gold studded with turquoise; and now her portraiture is -complete. - -“Scarcely had the ceremony of introduction taken place, when another -female bounced into the apartment, and she was immediately presented -to me as Mrs. Surtees’ sister. Such a pair was never seen before! -They looked like a butcher’s daughters in their Sunday’s best; and -they were attired with an evidently studied view to contrast. For the -sister’s gown was of blue velvet, her shawl of flaunting yellow hue, -and her bonnet white. These ladles, having favoured me with a good long -stare and a few observations relative to the weather and such-like -common-place topics, quitted the room to enter their vehicle which was -waiting at the door. Mr. Surtees had the gallantry to accompany them -as far as the carriage; and the moment I was alone again, I had the -curiosity to traverse the two rooms and take a peep from the front -window. The equipage was in perfect keeping with the appointments of -the house and the attire of the occupants. It was a barouche, painted -bright blue on the body: but all the under part and wheels were of -straw colour. The inside was lined with yellow morocco. It was drawn by -two brown cobs, the harness exhibiting a profusion of silver; and the -coachman’s livery was of a gaudy blue, with buttons also of silver. - -“But while I was making these observations from the window, my ears -were saluted with a brief colloquy that took place in the passage -between Mr. Surtees and his wife, ere he handed her to the carriage. -They doubtless believed that I had remained in the surgery, and -little thought that I was near enough to catch all they said.--‘Vell, -Joe,’ exclaimed Mrs. Surtees, ‘any monzel[22] vith that pale-faced -young feller vich you said were so ’ansome and made me come in to -see?’--‘A good moza-motton,’[23] he answered, with a vulgar chuckling -laugh.--‘Oh! then, he stumped the guelt?’[24] demanded the woman, -joining in the cachinnation.--‘To be sure he did, my love,’ responded -this precious consulting-surgeon: ‘and I means to have a good deal more -out on him afore I’ve done.’--‘Oh! wery vell, then,’ returned Mrs. -Surtees: ‘in this case the boy Abey must have a new polka hat, and -little Joe a new welwet dress out of it’--‘All right!’ exclaimed the -consulting-surgeon. ‘Come, cut along, and astonish the natives in the -park a bit. I shall jine you presently.’ He then handed the two women -into the carriage; and I hurried back to the surgery, where I seated -myself till his return--so that he could not suspect I had quitted the -place during his temporary absence. I longed to tell him all I knew or -suspected relative to his real character: but a fear of exposure made -me silent--and I took my leave of him with as much civility as I could -bring myself to bestow upon such a person. - -“I knew that I had been completely and thoroughly victimised: but on -reflection, I was glad of it. I saw that the circumstance of taking -the medicine had stimulated my imagination, and had thereby aided in -improving my health. On my return home, I threw the six bottles away -without drinking another drop of the trashy balm; and I sent at once -for a respectable physician, who, for a fee of five guineas, gave me -proper advice. I then came to the conclusion that it is always better, -under any emergency, to have recourse to legitimate assistance than to -seek the aid of advertisers--no matter whether the subject involved -be medicine, law, or money. My health improved rapidly; and at the -expiration of three months I became the happy husband of the equally -happy Editha. - -Here must I pause for a time: the recollection of my wedding-day has -revived memories which overpower me! - - * * * * * - - “_June 20th, 1846._ - -“I resume my narrative. Twelve months had elapsed after my marriage -with the loveliest and most amiable woman in the universe; and -nothing had transpired to interrupt our felicity. A boy had blest our -union--and I was as happy as a husband and father could possibly be. -My health was almost completely re-established; and my habits were -regular and domestic. I loathed the idea of those exciting pleasures -and feverish enjoyments in the vortex of which I had nearly wrecked -everything--health, fortune, and reputation; and Mrs. Greville, who -dwelt with us, would often assure me with a smile that I was the very -pattern of good husbands. My brother, who had become a magistrate, was -a frequent visitor at our house; and all was progressing in peace, -comfort, and tranquillity, when an incident suddenly occurred to -interfere with that smiling prospect. - -“It was late one evening, shortly after my beloved Editha’s recovery -from her confinement, that I was informed that a person who refused -to give his name desired to speak with me in private. I ordered the -servant to show him into the library; and thither I immediately -afterwards proceeded. The man whom I encountered there was a short, -thick-set fellow, with a forbidding countenance: he was flashily -dressed, and had about him an air of jaunty impudence as if he had -come upon some evil mission in which he knew that he should succeed. -I asked him his business, without inviting him to be seated--for I -conceived a dislike to him the instant I set eyes upon his sinister -features. ‘Your name is Macdonald?’ he said, flinging himself into a -chair in a very free-and-easy manner.--‘There is no necessity for you -to acquaint me with that fact,’ I observed, assuming as chilling a -tone as possible.--‘Oh! but there is, though!’ he ejaculated: ‘because -I must make sure that I am speaking to the right person. Well, you -admit your name: now will you tell me whether you’re the gentleman -that married Miss Editha Greville?’--‘What means this impudence?’ -I demanded angrily. ‘Explain your business, sir, without farther -circumlocution.’--‘I’ll come to the point in a minute,’ returned the -man, quite unabashed. ‘Fifteen or sixteen months ago you used to visit -a certain gentleman who lives not a hundred miles from Soho Square.’--I -started and turned pale: for it struck me in a moment that the fellow -was alluding to the _consulting-surgeon_.--‘Well, now I see that it’s -all right,’ he exclaimed, doubtless drawing this inference from the -confusion of my manner. ‘Of course you would rather it shouldn’t be -known that you _did_ visit the gentleman,’ he added emphatically.--‘I -do not understand your meaning,’ I replied.--‘Look here, then,’ -continued the fellow: ‘it would not be very pleasant to have your -brother, your mother-in-law, your friends, your tradesmen, your -servants, and even your wife, made acquainted with the fact that you -were under Mr. Surtees for some time previous to your marriage.’--‘I -never visited him but twice!’ were the words that I gasped out, for -horrible sensations were coming rapidly over me.--‘Never mind how often -it was,’ cried the man, in a brutal tone: ‘you did call to consult him, -and that’s enough for me. Now then, ’tis for you to say how much you’ll -give me to keep the secret.’--‘Wretch! extortioner!’ I ejaculated, rage -succeeding alarm in my breast--‘It’s of no use to attempt to bully -me,’ said the ruffian, with the most cold-blooded composure: ‘I want -money, and I mean to get it out of you.’--‘Or else?’ I said, all my -wretched feelings returning, as I saw myself threatened with exposure, -shame, and irretrievable degradation.--‘Or else,’ he repeated, ‘I shall -tell the secret to all the people I have named; and then we shall see -whether you will ever hold up your head in society again.’--‘And how -much money do you require?’ I asked, my heart sinking within me.--‘Five -hundred will do for the present,’ he responded imperiously.--‘For the -present?’ I cried, echoing his words: ‘what! do you mean to visit me -again for such a purpose?’--‘Not if you shell out at once, and without -making any more words about it,’ he said.--There was no alternative -save to comply; and I accordingly counted into his hand the Bank-notes -for the sum named. In another minute he had taken his departure--and I -was left alone to meditate upon the scene that had just occurred. - -“It was a long time before I could so far compose my countenance and -my feelings as to be able to return to the parlour without exciting -the suspicions of my wife and mother-in-law that something unpleasant -had taken place. But I managed to conceal the sorrow which the event -of the evening had engendered within me; and early on the following -morning I paid a visit to Mr. Surtees. He did not appear at first to -recollect me--or, at all events, if he did, he was a wonderful adept -in playing the part of forgetfulness: but when I mentioned my name, -he exclaimed, ‘Vy, is it possible that you’ve come back to consult me -again?’--‘Far from it,’ I answered, with a bitterness which I could -not hide, and which he failed not to notice; for he bit his lip, and -coloured deeply. I then related to him the particulars of the visit -I had received on the previous evening, and accused him of being the -prime mover in the matter. But he repelled the charge with so much -indignation--whether real or feigned I cannot even now determine--that -I certainly believed him at the time; and, were I at present writing -for the purpose of having my narrative read by the world, I should be -loth indeed to have it inferred that Mr. Surtees was in reality mixed -up with the case of extortion. Much as I hate and despise him, I will -not do him a wanton injustice; and I am therefore bound to state that -he was warm and energetic in his assurances of complete innocence -respecting the transaction.--‘But how could the man have known that I -ever _did_ visit you?’ I asked.--‘Vell things does get abroad in a many -most unaccountable vays,’ he responded: ‘but I take my Gosh to witness -that I’m as clear of this business as the babe vot’s unborn. Vot can I -do to conwince you that such is the fect?’--‘I do not entertain such -a dreadful opinion of human nature as to disbelieve you, sir,’ was my -rejoinder; and I took my leave. But, distressed and harassed as I was, -I could not help noticing the strong and disagreeable odour of fried -fish that came up from the lower regions of the dwelling: nor could I -avoid a smile as I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Surtees, who was running -hastily up stairs, having evidently emerged from the kitchen--for her -swarthy countenance was as greasy as it could be, and her appearance -was dirty and slovenly in the extreme. Yet, a few hours later in the -day, this woman would doubtless turn out in all the flaunting gaud of -her rainbow attire and in the profuse display of her costly jewellery! - -“I must again repeat that I quitted Mr. Surtees’ abode with the -conviction that he was anything but an accomplice in the scheme of -extortion; and I said to myself, as I returned homeward, ‘The scene of -last night is one of those penalties which we are doomed to pay for the -irregularities and evil courses of our youthful years. But, even though -Surtees himself be innocent, is not the extortionate deed all the same -a result of an infamous system of quackery? Destroy that system--and -the quietude of men’s homes could not thus be troubled by the visits of -extortioners!’--By degrees my mind grew calmer; and as weeks and months -fled away, I had almost ceased to think of the occurrence which had -so much ruffled me, when one evening the man reappeared at the house. -Again was the ominous message delivered to me while I was seated in -the society of my beloved wife and her excellent mother--again did I -see the man in private--and again was I compelled to endure his cool -insolence and yield to his extortionate demands. Another five hundred -pounds was transferred from my pocket to his own;--and once more was -I forced to veil the real condition of my feelings when I rejoined -the ladies in the parlour. And now, as time slipped away, I did not -lose the misgivings that this second visit had excited in my mind--I -could not forget that I was in the power of a villain, who was certain -to come back again. Months passed; and a third time--I remember it -well--it was on Christmas eve,--the fatal message was delivered to me. -On this occasion I started so violently and betrayed so much confusion -that both my wife and mother-in-law observed my agitation. I however -hurried away, without responding to their anxious enquiries; and when -once more in the presence of the extortioner, I heaped the bitterest -reproaches upon him. He heard me with a coolness and a self-possession -that only augmented my wrath; and at length I ceased speaking through -sheer exhaustion. He then informed me, in his imperious and rude -manner, that he had an opportunity of emigrating under the most -favourable services--that he required a thousand pounds--and that if -I gave him this sum, he would never trouble me again. I bound him by -the most solemn oaths to that pledge; and, to save myself from a shame -that would have crushed me down to the very dust and rendered life -intolerable, I gave the miscreant a cheque on my bankers for the large -amount which he demanded. But on my return to the company of my Editha -and Mrs. Greville, I was compelled to invent falsehoods to account -for my confusion; and I beheld, with pain and bitter grief, that they -both saw that I was deceiving them--that I was concealing the real -truth--and that there was something upon my mind![25] - -“Oh! yes--and they conjectured truly; for my peace was now so -thoroughly disturbed, that I despaired of regaining it. I felt -convinced that, in spite of the villain’s solemn vows, he would come -back again; and I dreaded to be at home--for every knock at the -door made me start nervously. If I walked or rode out, on my return -I dreaded lest the servants should inform me that a certain person -had called for me during my absence, and would look in again in the -evening. Thus my life became a veritable burthen to me; and my sorrow -was aggravated by the stern necessity of retaining it all in my own -breast. Often and often did I think of inventing some excuse to -induce my wife and her mother to consent that we should break up our -establishment in London, and repair to the continent. But what apology -could I devise for such a strange proceeding?--and, moreover, would not -the extortioner find me out, if he set himself to the work? because -to imagine any feasible ground for changing our name, was impossible. -Thus months passed away, without seeing me determine upon any plan to -frustrate the extortioner should he return; and I saw that my Editha’s -health and spirits began to fail--because she knew that I was secretly -unhappy! - -“And the extortioner _did_ come back: and again was I forced to -yield to his demands. Two thousand pounds did he obtain from me -on this occasion; and when I reminded him of his solemn pledges -and sacred vows, he laughed outright in my face. Oh! how I -hated--abhorred--loathed that man! I could have slain him on the spot: -but I thought of my dear wife and innocent boy, and I restrained -my hand. And now my mind became seriously unsettled--a painful -nervousness constantly maintained its influence over me--my health -gave way again, as rapidly under the heavy weight of sorrow as it -did beneath the wearing effects of dissipation. Oh! yes--and what -was worse than all, was that my Editha grew paler and thinner day by -day--visibly;--and I dared not attempt to console her--I could not -force my tongue to frame a lie to assure her that I myself was happy. -Thus was our once happy home changed to a scene of gloom: a deep -despondency hung upon us all--and I perceived, with ineffable anguish, -that Mrs. Greville began to view me with distrust. Perhaps she thought -that some crime lay heavy upon my soul: yes--this must have been her -impression--or she would doubtless have questioned me. But she did -not live long enough to behold the sad catastrophe: a short though -severe illness snatched her to the tomb--and, circumstanced as I was, -I rejoiced in secret at the event,--for I said to myself, ‘There is at -all events one being the less to deceive--one being the less to watch -me with mournful and silently appealing looks!’--O God! It was not -strange--it was not wonderful if madness were beginning even then to -undermine the strong tower of my reason! - -“Scarcely were the remains of my mother-in-law consigned to the tomb, -when the extortioner reappeared at the house. His demands increased -in proportion to the concessions which were made to him by my fears; -but I was totally unable to comply with his present exigences. It is -true that there was much property still left;--but it was settled on -my wife--and I could not command from my own resources the sum needed. -This I candidly told him, and besought him to be merciful;--yes, with -tears in my eyes did I beseech him. The wretch! the monster! what -cared he for my grief--my anguish? He desired me to have recourse -to a discounter--gave me the address of a money-lender--and said he -should return on the following evening. Accordingly--impelled by my -wretched, wretched destiny--I visited the money-lender, who advanced -me three thousand pounds on my own acceptance, and at most usurious -interest. The whole of that money found its way into the pocket of the -extortioner; and when he had taken his departure, I fell down in a fit. -For days and days did I keep my bed; and when I awoke to consciousness, -it was from a delirium. My dear wife was seated by my bed-side; but, O -God!--how pale--how altered--how wan she was with long vigils and deep -grief! I questioned her guardedly to ascertain whether in my ravings -I had betrayed my secret: but I learnt, beyond all doubt, that I had -_not_. Then I began to breathe more freely; and she, throwing her -arms about my neck, exclaimed, while tears streamed in torrents down -her cheeks, ‘My beloved husband, you have some dreadful grief preying -upon your mind. May I not be made your confidant? I have observed that -always after the visits of the man who calls every now and then, and -invariably in the evening, you are stricken as with a heavy affliction. -Oh! what does it all mean?--I endeavoured to console her--to soothe -her--to reassure her as well as I could; but I saw that she only -pretended to be solaced, for my sake! - -“Well--I recovered: but happiness and I had shaken hands for ever. I -felt as if I were followed about by an invisible demon, whose breath -poisoned the very atmosphere that I breathed. I know that my brain was -reeling--that my reason was tottering that I was going mad! Often did -I think seriously of murdering my wife and child, and putting an end -to my own existence. But I dared not lay violent hands upon _them_; -and I had too much moral courage still left to seek death so long as -there remained a single tie, however feeble, to bind me to life. But -a new misfortune was in store for me--for _us_. A solicitor in whom I -and my wife trusted, obtained our signatures to certain deeds under -the foulest representations; and by virtue thereof he sold out all the -stock standing in Editha’s name in the Bank. He then absconded; and -we were suddenly reduced from affluence to comparative penury. I was -unable to honour my acceptance; and the discounter would listen to no -terms. He said that he had passed it away in the regular course of -business, and could not take it up himself. I was arrested and thrown -into prison. My friends deserted me, believing that wanton extravagance -on my part had led to this catastrophe. Yes: all save my beloved wife -deserted me--and she, the angel! remained faithful to me! We had two -hundred and fifty pounds a year still left; and on the houses which -produced this income, my wife insisted on raising the money necessary -to obtain my release. But such a proceeding would have left us beggars; -and I could not endure the idea of misery for one--two--three persons! -No: the property was so secured that my creditor could not touch -it--and I resolved, by the advice of an attorney, to apply for relief -to the Insolvents’ Court. I did so; and the creditor opposed me on the -ground of extravagance. I could give no account of the manner in which -I had disposed of the money he had advanced me--and when the opposing -counsel asked me, on my oath, whether I had not lost it at gambling, -I greedily snapped at the means of explanation thus furnished, -and perjured myself by the utterance of an affirmative. Oh! that -miscreant extortioner!--he drove me to ruin--a prison--the Insolvents’ -Court--perjury--and lastly to a mad-house! Great God! how can I write -thus tranquilly when I think of all the wrongs that I have endured? - - * * * * * - - “_July 23rd, 1846._ - -“I have been compelled to desist again: but at length I resume my -pen. My ideas are rapidly becoming more settled: I think that I shall -recover altogether, if I can but manage to escape from this place! - -“I stated that I appeared at the Insolvents’ Court, and was opposed -by the holder of the bill for three thousand pounds. The Commissioner -remanded me to prison for twelve months as a punishment for wanton and -profligate expenditure. I shall not dwell upon that long incarceration: -it was horrible to a sensitive soul like mine. Even Editha, patient and -loving as she was, failed to solace me altogether. There were intervals -of anguish so bitter that I fancied myself at times to be already dead -and enduring the torments of hell. Dreadful thought! But at length the -time passed--and I was once more free. We took a neat little cottage -in the suburbs of the metropolis; and tranquility seemed to have been -restored to us at last. Our son throve gloriously: Oh! what a handsome -boy he became--what a handsome boy he must be now! Nearly two yeas -passed--and I was recovering my mental serenity, when one day I met -the extortioner in the street. Oh! what a cold shudder came over me as -I saw his eyes fixed upon me! It seemed as if a horrible spectre had -suddenly started up from the earth to horrify and appal me. I beheld -_Ruin_ personified; and a faintness came over me. But I was recalled -to a poignant sense of my misery by the well-known voice, that fell -upon my ears, making fresh demands upon my purse. I took the man into -an obscure public-house close by; and, as there was no one in the -room save ourselves at the time, we could converse freely upon the -business. Freely, indeed! when every word he uttered fell like drops -of molten lead upon my heart--and every syllable I breathed in return -hissed from my parched tongue like water passing over red hot iron! -What could I do? The fiend insisted upon having money, and swore that -he would follow me home. He, however, measured his demands to my means, -and insisted upon having three hundred pounds by a given hour the next -evening. We parted--and I saw that he dogged me: indeed, he did not -attempt to conceal himself nor his intentions as he followed me until I -entered my own door--and I knew that it was useless either to turn upon -him in a hostile manner, or to attempt to baffle his aim. - -[Illustration] - -“Heaven only knows how I contrived to explain to my wife the reason -of my altered appearance--or rather, how I managed to conceal the -real cause beneath a falsehood. But I did succeed in reassuring her -somewhat; and on the following day I went to the discounter--the same -discounter who had lent me money before--to ask him for a loan. It -was a desperate step, taken by a desperate man: but, to my surprise, -he consented without the slightest hesitation to accommodate me. I -received the money--gave my note of hand--and paid the amount to the -extortioner. But things had now reached a crisis with me--and I became -so unsettled in my mind that Editha was seriously alarmed. I remember -that my brother, the magistrate, was sent for; and he visited the house -after having been long estranged from me. Then a mist came over my -memory; and, when I awoke, I was--here! - -“Yes--here, where I now pen these lines! Oh! I have been mad--raving -mad; and Heaven knows that I have endured enough to make me so. Such -persecution could only end in insanity. But I am better now: nay--I -am well--although my friends will not believe it. My brother was here -yesterday; and I saw by the way in which he humoured me when I told -him I was fast recovering my reason, that he still imagines me to be -insane. I implored him to let me see Editha and my boy: he declared -that I should have that pleasure next Sunday. He likewise told me that -they were well in health, but deeply grieved on my account. - -“Now I have made up my mind how to act. I shall escape from this -horrible place, and proceed to France. There I shall adopt an assumed -name--and thence I shall write to Editha to join me at once with our -son. We shall be beyond the reach of the extortioner--and tranquil, -if not happy days may yet await us. Yes--this is my hope! But shall I -destroy the manuscript upon which I have laboured so arduously, and -which has furnished me with an occupation that has done me so much -good? No: I cannot consent to annihilate the papers which contain a -narrative so fraught with awful warning. But does it not likewise -contain my secret?--and is not my name mentioned in the course of the -recital? Hark! footsteps approach--I must conceal my papers----” - - - - -CHAPTER CLXXXIX. - -SCENES IN THE LUNATIC ASYLUM. - - -Thus terminated the extraordinary manuscript which Lord William -Trevelyan found in the wardrobe, and the perusal of which occupied him -nearly two hours. - -He was undecided how to dispose of the papers. Should he return -them to the place where they had been concealed?--should he destroy -them?--should he take them away with him, in the hope of being one day -enabled to discover their writer, and by restoring them to him convince -him that they had fallen into the possession of an honourable man, who, -though having had the curiosity to read them, would, nevertheless, -religiously keep the secret which they contained? - -For, from the abrupt termination of the manuscript, Lord William very -naturally concluded that the unfortunate author had succeeded in -effecting his escape from the lunatic-asylum very shortly after he -had penned the last words in the narrative; and the young nobleman, -therefore, considered it to be possible, though perhaps not very -probable, that he might sooner or later encounter Mr. Macdonald in the -great and busy world. - -Lord William had likewise another motive for retaining the papers. - -The reader has seen enough of him to be aware that there was in his -disposition much of the same chivalrous spirit and philanthropic -principle which characterised the Earl of Ellingham; and it was -therefore natural that he should become suddenly impressed with the -idea of adopting measures, in due course, for the purpose of fully -exposing the atrocious system of quackery that was carried on by -pseudo-medical advertisers. - -He remembered that the newspapers contained many advertisements -announcing such works as the one which had proved the means of -ensnaring the unfortunate Mr. Macdonald; and he was resolved to lose -no time in employing his solicitor to institute all the necessary -inquiries into the characters, histories, proceedings, and social -positions of the scoundrels who thus accumulated large fortunes by -means of the most atrocious quackery, deceit, rascality, and extortion. - -The manuscript which chance had this night thrown in his way, contained -so many important particulars, and furnished such a complete clue to -the entire ramifications of the dark iniquity which the young nobleman -was determined to expose, that he regarded it as a powerful auxiliary -to the crusade he was about to undertake; and this consideration, added -to the motives already mentioned, decided him in retaining possession -of the document. - -It was now one o’clock in the morning; and a profound silence reigned -throughout the lunatic asylum. - -Lord William noiselessly opened the door of his chamber, and looked -forth into the long passage, which was partially lighted by a single -lamp that had been left burning. - -No living being was to be seen; and nothing disturbed the dead -stillness of the hour and the place. - -It now struck the young nobleman that the door of the chamber which he -was anxious to enter--namely, No. 12, in the same passage as his own -apartment--was most probably locked; and, in this case, he made up his -mind to force it at all risks. - -A little farther reflection suggested to him that, inasmuch as he -had seen the housekeeper with only a single key in her hand, it was -probable that this key was a pass to all the chambers; and he thence -inferred that the key of his own room might perhaps fit the lock of the -door belonging to No. 12. - -At all events this was the first experiment that he resolved to try; -and, without any longer delay, he proceeded as cautiously as possible -down the passage, until he reached the chamber which he hoped and -believed to be the one occupied by his friend. - -There was a bolt outside the door: this was immediately drawn -back;--and Trevelyan essayed the key. - -To his indescribable joy, the key turned easily in the lock; and, with -a beating heart, the nobleman entered the room--closing the door behind -him. - -The chamber was quite dark: but Trevelyan speedily groped his way to -the window and drew aside the curtains, so as to permit the powerful -moonlight to pour its silver flood into the room. - -He now approached the bed--and there, to his delight, he beheld the -well-known, though worn and wasted, countenance of his friend Sir -Gilbert Heathcote, who was wrapped in slumber. - -Lord William shook him gently; the baronet awoke with a sudden start -and ejaculation; but at the same instant a friendly voice said, -hurriedly, “Fear nothing! ’tis I--Trevelyan--and I am come to deliver -you from this accursed place.” - -Sir Gilbert, who had raised his head from the pillow, fell back again, -and closed his eyes for a few moments. He fancied that he was dreaming. -He could not believe that those welcome words had in reality sounded in -his ears, or that the moonlight had shown him the form of his friend by -the bed-side. - -Trevelyan did not choose to interrupt the baronet’s reverie -immediately; he comprehended the prudence of allowing him to collect -his scattered ideas, and compose his thoughts. - -“Is it really you, my dear young friend?” Sir Gilbert asked abruptly; -and, starting up in the bed, he seized Trevelyan’s hand, and gazed -fixedly upon his countenance. - -“Yes, it is no dream,” responded Lord William, pressing the baronet’s -hand with all the fervour of his generous friendship; “I am here to -effect your escape, and there is no time to be lost.” - -Still the baronet could scarcely believe the joyful announcement thus -made to him; and Trevelyan, duly impressed with the necessity of -tranquilising and reassuring his friend’s mind as much as possible ere -the attempt at departure should be made,--fearing likewise that the -baronet’s intellect had been somewhat impaired by the sense of wrong -and the horrors of imprisonment in a lunatic asylum,--began to speak -upon such topics as were calculated to direct his thoughts into a -salutary channel. - -“My dear Heathcote,” he said, “endeavour to call to your aid as much -calmness and self-possession as possible; for a single inadvertence -or false step may ruin our project by alarming the house. Remember -that the place is as well protected and defended, and probably as well -watched, as a gaol: and we must proceed with caution--courage--and -coolness.” - -“But how did you find your way into the establishment?” enquired Sir -Gilbert, his ideas becoming more settled. - -“By pretending to be insane,” answered Trevelyan; “and I have succeeded -in thoroughly duping the Doctor.” - -“Oh! my generous--my noble-hearted friend!” exclaimed the baronet: “how -can I ever sufficiently prove my gratitude----” - -“Hush! speak not with excitement!” interrupted Trevelyan. “I am only -doing towards you what you would unhesitatingly perform for me under -the same circumstances. And now--as I am anxious to relieve your -mind as much as possible from any uneasiness or suspense that it may -experience--I must at once inform you that Mrs. Sefton is in good -health, and at this moment in the happy expectation of shortly seeing -you again; for she is aware of the scheme which I have adopted to -restore you to liberty.” - -“Heaven be thanked for these assurances!” exclaimed Sir Gilbert: then, -after a few moments’ pause, he said, “I need scarcely ask you to -explain how you became acquainted with Mrs. Sefton. She was no stranger -to the friendship subsisting between you and me--and I therefore -conclude that, alarmed by my sudden and inexplicable disappearance, she -sought your counsel and assistance.” - -“All has occurred precisely as you conjecture,” answered Trevelyan. -“But do you now feel equal to the task----” - -“Of making an effort to recover my freedom?” ejaculated Sir Gilbert, -leaping from the couch. “Let us not lose another moment! The atmosphere -of this place seems oppressive, and heavy to breathe. I pant--I -yearn--I long for liberty.” - -Thus speaking, the baronet began hastily to put on his attire, and in a -few minutes he was dressed. - -“Now,” said Trevelyan, “we must decide upon the course to be adopted. -Doubtless there is a porter to keep watch all night in the hall?” he -added, interrogatively. - -“Yes,” answered Sir Gilbert: “and I am also certain that a man patrols -the garden. Besides, the keepers inside the house are as wakeful and as -watchful as the fiends of Pandemonium; and the least noise will bring -half-a-dozen strong and desperate fellows upon us. For my part, I have -not the slightest objection to embrace the alternative of fighting our -way through all opposition----” - -“But the consequences of defeat would be most disastrous,” interrupted -Trevelyan. “The Doctor would thereby gain an excuse for coercing both -you and me; and although I am as it were my own prisoner, yet I have -sworn not to quit these walls unless accompanied by you.” - -“Generous friend!” exclaimed Sir Gilbert. “Were we well armed, we might -bid defiance to the Doctor and all his gang: but weaponless--powerless -as we are----” - -“Do not despond, Heathcote,” said Trevelyan, observing that the baronet -spoke in a mournful tone: “the task that I have undertaken, I will -accomplish! There appear to me to be two modes of procedure. The first -is to descend as noiselessly as possible to the hall--seize upon the -porter--master him--and then effect our escape by the front-door. The -other is to force away the bars from the window of this room--make -a rope of the bed-clothing--descend into the garden--and take our -chance with the watchman. Either project is attended with the risk of -creating an alarm: but it is for you to decide, from your knowledge of -the premises and the habits of its inmates, which scheme is the more -feasible.” - -“The former,” responded Sir Gilbert, after a few moments’ deep -reflection. “The watchman in the garden would probably observe us at -the window, removing the bars; and an alarm would thus be raised even -before we were prepared to attempt an escape by those means. On the -other hand, the porter sleeps in the hall:--of _this_ fact I am well -assured, because I saw the bed temporarily made up for him there on the -night that I was brought hither:--therefore our chances of success lie -in that direction.” - -“Such also is my idea,” observed Trevelyan. “Let us proceed at -once--and permit me to take the lead.” - -The young nobleman and the baronet stole cautiously forth from the -chamber, treading so lightly that their steps raised not a sound to -disturb the silence which prevailed throughout the establishment. - -They descended to the first floor in safety: and there they paused for -a few minutes on the landing, listening with suspended breath. - -The deep and regular respiration of the porter now reached their ears -from the hall below; and they thus obtained the assurance that the man -slumbered. - -Exchanging looks of satisfaction, they descended the last flight -of stairs;--and, by the hall lamp, they perceived the porter -comfortably ensconced in a truckle-bed that was made up for him in a -convenient corner. The light fell on his rubicund countenance, which -was surmounted by a cotton nightcap: but the brawny arm that lay -outside the coverlid, and the tracing of his form as shaped by the -bed-clothes, showed full well that he was a man of herculean stature -and proportionate strength. - -Nothing daunted--but resolving upon a desperate effort to accomplish -the purpose he had in view--Lord William Trevelyan led the way into -the hall; and he had just ascertained the fact that there was a bunch -of large keys peeping forth from beneath the sleeping porter’s pillow, -when the door of the supper-room suddenly opened, and Mr. Sheepshanks -staggered forth. - -The reverend gentleman carried a candle in his hand; and, by his -flushed countenance, vacant stare, and unsteady walk, he was evidently -in a pretty advanced state of intoxication. In fact--and there is no -necessity to disguise the matter--the pious minister had sate up to -enjoy himself alone; and he had carried his libations to such an extent -that he was now, at two o’clock in the morning, most awfully drunk. - -The moment Lord William caught sight of the inebriate minister, he -sprang upon him--placed his hand tightly over his mouth--and, thrusting -him back into the supper-room, said in a low but hasty and threatening -tone, “Move hence at your peril!” - -He then closed and locked the door. - -But in the short and decided scuffle an untoward accident had occurred. - -The candlestick had dropped from Mr. Sheepshanks’ hand on the marble -floor of the hall; and the consequence was that the porter sprang up, -and was out of bed in a trice. - -Sir Gilbert Heathcote rushed upon him: but not in time to prevent the -man from springing a huge rattle and crying, “Help! help!” - -Lord William Trevelyan hesitated not a moment how to act. He darted to -the truckle-bed--seized the keys from beneath the pillow--and sprang to -the door, leaving Sir Gilbert Heathcote wrestling desperately with the -porter. - -The reader will remember that there were two doors; and the young -nobleman had only just time to open the first or inner one, when a -rapid glance cast behind showed him his friend Sir Gilbert upon the -floor, completely overpowered by the huge porter, who had placed his -knee upon the baronet’s chest. - -It was Trevelyan’s hope that his friend would have been able to keep -the porter engaged in the struggle until he could have opened both the -doors, when he would have turned to the scene of strife, to rescue the -baronet; but scarcely had he observed that Sir Gilbert was already -vanquished, when four of the keepers rushed down stairs into the hall. - -With the rapidity and force of a tiger springing upon its prey, Lord -William rushed on the huge porter, hurled him to a distance, and raised -up the prostrate baronet. - -All this was the work of an instant: but in another moment the keepers -sprang upon the two friends, and closed with them. - -The baronet was again borne down; but Trevelyan, who now saw that -the conflict was really becoming desperate, used the bunch of heavy -door-keys with such effect that he speedily disabled the two keepers -who had assailed him,--stretching one senseless on the floor, and -compelling the other to beat a retreat with the blood pouring down his -face. - -To turn his attention to the two men who were dragging away Sir Gilbert -Heathcote, was the intrepid young nobleman’s next step; and in a few -moments the baronet, once more rescued from the enemy, was by the side -of his intrepid friend. - -“Take the keys and open the front door!” cried Trevelyan, impetuously -pushing Sir Gilbert towards that extremity of the hall where the means -of egress lay. “Escape, in the name of heaven!--think not of me!” - -And having thrust the keys into his friend’s hand, Lord William seized -the Doctor’s gold-headed cane, which hung to a hat-peg in the hall; -and placing himself between the front-door and the keepers, he cried, -“Beware how you provoke me--for I shall not hesitate to defend myself -to the death!” - -But scarcely were these words uttered, when the two keepers from whom -he had rescued the baronet, returned to the charge, aided by the burly -porter. - -The foremost was instantaneously felled by a blow vigorously dealt -with the cane; and, following up his advantage quickly as the eye can -wink, Trevelyan darted at the other keeper, whom he also levelled on -the spot. But in the next moment the gallant young nobleman was in the -grasp of the porter; and, dropping the cane as no longer useful in a -close tussle, he addressed himself with all his might to this last and -most desperate single combat. - -The scene was very exciting; and all that we have yet described since -the first moment that the conflict commenced, did not occupy more than -two minutes. - -Scarcely had the intrepid nobleman and the herculean porter closed -together, when the Doctor, attired in his dressing-gown and slippers, -and with his cotton night-cap on his head, appeared at the bottom of -the stairs, holding a chamber-candle in his hand. - -At the same instant Sir Gilbert Heathcote had succeeded in opening the -front door; and the morning breeze poured into the hall, in a manner -doubtless highly refreshing to the porter, who, be it remembered, had -nothing on but his shirt--_his_ cap having fallen off in the conflict -which he had maintained with the baronet in the first instance. - -Two of the discomfited keepers, animated by the presence of the -Doctor--or perhaps rendered ashamed of their pusillanimity--now -returned to the attack upon Trevelyan, who was just on the point of -hurling the porter to the ground. But Sir Gilbert, having made the -entrance free, rushed back to help his friend; and the contest was -again renewed with desperate energy,--the other two keepers, who had by -this time recovered their senses, joining in the struggle. - -And hard would it have gone with Trevelyan and the baronet against such -odds, had not two new-comers suddenly appeared upon the scene. - -For, the front door standing wide open, and the lamp being alight in -the hall, two gentlemen who were passing by the house at the time -beheld the extraordinary proceedings that were taking place within; -and the foremost, perceiving in an instant that the odds were two to -five,--namely, Trevelyan and the baronet against the four keepers and -the porter,--exclaimed at the top of a stentorian voice, “Be Jasus! -Frank, and we’ll just give a helping hand to the waker side!” - -With these words, the redoubtable Captain O’Blunderbuss--nerved -with all the courage attributed by Sir Walter Scott to Lord -Marmion--“plunged into the fight.” - -Or, in less poetical language, he darted into the hall--levelled the -herculean porter with a well-directed blow between the eyes--and sent -a couple of keepers sprawling over the aforesaid porter in an instant. - -Frank Curtis, having imbibed just sufficient poteen to subdue his -habitual cowardice and arm him with the bastard though not the less -effectual valour which strong drink inspires, unhesitatingly followed -the example of his gallant leader, and bore his part in the fray; so -that in less than a minute a complete diversion was effected in favour -of Lord William Trevelyan and Sir Gilbert Heathcote, the enemy being -utterly discomfited. - -“Villains! murderers! robbers!” shouted the infuriate Doctor, as loud -as he could bawl; and then the screams and shrieks of the affrighted -female servants were heard echoing from the stairs and landing-places. - -“Let us depart!” cried Lord William Trevelyan; and, in a very few -moments, he pushed the baronet, the captain, and Frank Curtis, out of -the front door,--he himself pausing only for a single second to secure -the keys. - -In another instant he was outside the house; and closing the door -behind him, he locked it so as to prevent the Doctor and his myrmidons -from instituting an immediate pursuit. - -“Be Jasus! and this is the rummest lar-r-k I iver had in all my life!” -ejaculated Captain O’Blunderbuss, panting for breath. - -“Come with us, gentlemen,” said Lord William, hastily addressing that -gallant officer and Frank Curtis: “you have rendered us a signal -service--and we must know you better. We have likewise certain -necessary explanations to give you relative to the strange scene in -which you took so generous a part. But come away directly--there is not -a moment to be lost--a hue and cry may be raised!” - -“Be the power-rs! and is it bur-r-glars ye are?” cried the Captain, -somewhat regretting the precipitation with which he had mixed himself -up in the late affray. - -“No--no: far from _that_!” exclaimed Lord William, laughing heartily -at the idea. “But let us get as quickly as we can out of this -neighbourhood.” - -And away the four gentlemen scampered into the Cambridge Road, down -which they sped until they reached Mile End, where they fortunately -found a night-cab waiting for a fare. - -Into the vehicle they got; and Lord William Trevelyan exclaimed, as an -instruction to the driver, “Park Square, Regent’s Park!” - -Away the cab went; and both Captain O’Blunderbuss and Frank Curtis, -who had heard the aristocratic address thus given, were seized with an -insatiable curiosity to learn who their new acquaintances could be. - - - - -CHAPTER CXC. - -A SCENE IN A CAB. - - -“Ginthlemen,” exclaimed the gallant Irishman, “I mane to inthroduce -myself and frind to ye without any more bother or pother. My frind, -then, ginthlemen, is Misther Frank Cur-r-tis--discinded from a fine -family, and once possissed of large estates, all of which, be Jasus! -he’s managed to ate up as clane as if dirthy acres were plum-pudding. -My name, ginthlemen, is Capthain O’Bluntherbuss, of Bluntherbuss Park, -Connemar-r-ra--where I shall be delighted to see ye any time ye may be -afther visiting Ould Ireland and I’m at home.” - -“Permit me to shake hands with you, Captain O’Blunderbuss,” said the -young nobleman; “and with you also, Mr. Curtis. You have rendered me -and my friend a service which we cannot easily forget.” - -“And which we shall never seek to forget,” added the baronet, -emphatically; and then there was a general shaking of hands inside the -cab. - -Lord William Trevelyan next proceeded to inform his new friends who he -and Sir Gilbert Heathcote were; and the reader may conceive the huge -delight experienced by Captain O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Frank Curtis when -they found themselves in the company of a real nobleman and a real -baronet. - -“And now, my lor-r-d,” said the gallant officer, “will ye be so -obleeging as to explain to us what house that was where all the pother -took place, and what was the maning of the pother itself: for, be the -holy poker-r! I can’t make head or tail of it!” - -“The fact is,” responded Lord William Trevelyan, “it was a mad-house.” - -“A mad-house!” ejaculated Mr. Frank Curtis, starting as if stung by a -serpent lurking in the straw at the bottom of the cab--while a cold -tremor came over him; for it instantly struck him that he and his Irish -companion had been instrumental in the escape of a couple of lunatics. - -“A mad-house!” repeated the Captain, immediately entertaining the same -idea, although not sharing the apprehensions of his friend. - -“Neither more nor less,” continued Trevelyan, perfectly unaware of the -impression which his words had produced upon the two gentlemen: for, as -the inside of the cab was quite dark, he could not observe the change -that took place in their countenances. - -“You--you--don’t mean to--to--say,” stammered Curtis, fidgetting -uncommonly, and thrusting his hand outside the window to grasp -the handle of the door: for he began to think that the sooner he -emancipated himself from the cab, the better;--“you--you----” - -“Hould your tongue, ye spalpeen!” vociferated the Captain, who, fully -acquainted with the character of his friend, guessed pretty accurately -all that was passing in his mind: for the worthy Irishman, on his part, -was determined not to separate from his new friends, whether they were -lunatics or not, until he had ascertained if any thing was to be got -out of them either in the shape of money or whiskey, or both;--“hould -your tongue, ye spalpeen! and let’s hear what his lor-rdship has to say -upon the matther.” - -“Well, as I was informing you, gentlemen,” resumed Trevelyan, -who considered that a proper explanation was fully due to those -who had acted such a gallant part in the late proceedings, “the -house whence you just now so effectually aided us to escape, is a -lunatic-asylum--and the men against whom you fought were the keepers.” - -“And who--who were the--the--lunatics?” asked Frank Curtis, perspiring -at every pore--for the effects of the whiskey which he had been -drinking were completely absorbed in the terror that now influenced him. - -“Be Jasus! and I won’t have such questions put to my intimate frind -his lor-r-dship, and my parthicular frind the baronet!“ ejaculated -Captain O’Blunderbuss, bestowing upon Frank’s ribs such an unmerciful -nudge with his elbow that the gentleman who was made the recipient of -the said poke writhed horribly in his seat. “Prosade, sir--my lor-r-d, -I mane,” added the gallant officer, who, in spite of his civility -towards the nobleman and the baronet, firmly believed that they were -lunatics, and had usurped titles to which they had not the slightest -claim nor right. - -“Your companion asked me who were the lunatics,” said Trevelyan, -beginning to be somewhat astonished at the manner of his new friends: -“well, to tell you the candid truth, myself and Sir Gilbert Heathcote -were supposed to be--although I leave you both to judge whether there -could have been the slightest ground for such an idea.” - -“O Lord!--O Lord!” murmured Frank Curtis; and again his hand, which he -had withdrawn when the captain nudged him, was thrust out of the window -to grasp the door-latch. - -“Are you unwell, my dear sir?” inquired Sir Gilbert Heathcote, in -a tone of much concern--for, being seated precisely opposite to -Curtis, he had heard the murmured ejaculations which had escaped that -individual’s lips. - -“Yes--very,” replied Frank, with a hollow groan. - -“Be asy, thin, can’t ye?” whispered the Captain savagely in his ear, at -the same time favouring him with another barbarous nudge in the ribs. -“Oh! it’s nothln’ at all, at all, with my frind, I can assure ye, my -lor-r-d and Sir Gilbert,” exclaimed the gallant officer aloud: “he’s -throubled with whazing in the throat when he’s been afther dhrinking an -exthra dhrop of potheen--and may be the motion of the cab don’t quite -agree with him, bad luck to his nonsense! Well, my lor-r-d, ye were -afther telling us that your lor-r-dship’s ownself and Sir Gilbert were -belaved to be the lunatics?” - -“Just so,” answered Trevelyan; “and had not the affair proved a very -serious one to my friend Heathcote, I should be inclined to laugh at -the ludicrous manner in which it terminated. Heathcote was immured -in that asylum under most treacherous circumstances a short time -ago--although, I need scarcely inform you, there was not the slightest -pretense for the imputation of insanity----” - -“Be the holy poker-r! and any one that’s blind could see that same!” -ejaculated Captain O’Blunderbuss. - -“O Lord!” again moaned Frank Curtis; and he slily and stealthily turned -the handle of the cab door. - -“Determined to rescue my friend,” continued Lord William Trevelyan, -“I induced two medical gentlemen, who are under some obligations to -me, and whom I admitted into my confidence, to sign the necessary -certificates to consign me to a lunatic asylum----” - -“O Lord--O Lord!” groaned Curtis, more deeply than before; for even if -he had hitherto entertained any doubt as to the state of Trevelyan’s -mind, the singular averment just made was quite sufficient to confirm -him in the opinion that he was in company with a decided lunatic. - -“What the divvel ails ye, man?” growled Captain O’Blunderbuss. -“Prosade, my lor-r-d. I’m dapely intherested in your lor-rdship’s -narrative.” - -“Having thus obtained the certificates,” continued Trevelyan, “I -tutored my valet how to act--and he accordingly consigned me to the -care of Dr. Swinton--the old gentleman whom you saw in a dressing-gown -and night-cap at the foot of the stairs.” - -“An arrant ould scounthrel, I’ve no doubt,” interjected the Captain. - -“It was necessary, under the circumstances,” resumed Trevelyan, “to -fight Sir Gilbert’s enemies with their own weapons. Cunning against -cunning--duplicity against duplicity! That was the plan I adopted; and -I affected insanity so well, that the Doctor was completely deceived.” - -“Be the power-rs! this is excellent,” ejaculated Captain O’Blunderbuss. -“It’s not ivery one that could desayve a mad-docthor so well.” - -“I really believe that he imagined me to be as mad as a March hare,” -said Trevelyan. - -“And so you are!” yelled forth Frank Curtis, suddenly throwing the door -wide open and making a desperate attempt to leap from the cab, even at -the risk of breaking his neck or fracturing his skull--for his terrors -had risen to such a pitch that confinement in the vehicle along with -two persons whom he firmly believed to be downright mad-men, had become -utterly unendurable:--but the iron grasp of the Captain clutched him -by the back part of his collar just as he was on the point of bounding -franticly forth into the road--and he was compelled, not however -without a struggle, to resume his seat. - -This proceeding on the part of Frank Curtis suddenly opened the eyes -of both Trevelyan and the baronet to the impressions which the recent -proceedings had unmistakeably and naturally made on the minds of -their new friends: as if a light had darted in upon them, they now -comprehended the cause of Frank Curtis’s singular manner almost ever -since they first entered the vehicle;--and they likewise perceived -(though they did not rightly interpret) the courtesy which had not only -rendered Captain O’Blunderbuss so good a listener to the explanations -given by Trevelyan, but had also prompted him to silence and coerce his -companion as much as possible. - -Accordingly, Trevelyan and Sir Gilbert Heathcote simultaneously broke -out into such a hearty fit of laughter that Frank Curtis began to -console himself with the idea that they were at least harmless; while -Captain O’Blunderbuss set them down as the merriest lunatics he had -ever encountered in all his life, and joined with unfeigned cordiality -in their glee. - -“And so you really thought that we were mad?” exclaimed Trevelyan, as -soon as he could compose himself sufficiently to speak. - -“Oh! not at all, at all!” cried the Captain. - -“But Mr. Curtis firmly believes that we are neither more nor less than -lunatics?” said the young nobleman, enjoying the scene. - -“Be Jasus! and if he darrs insulth your lor-rdship and your -lor-rdship’s frind by even suspicting such a thing, he shall mate me -to-morrow mornin’ at twelve paces on Wimbledon Common!” exclaimed the -gallant and warlike gentleman. - -“Really you excite yourself too much in our behalf, Captain,” observed -Trevelyan, who saw plainly enough that O’Blunderbuss was adopting -just such a tone and manner as one would use to conciliate and soothe -lunatics. “Now tell us the truth, my dear sir,” continued the young -nobleman: “do you not think that if we are actually and positively -crazy, you and Mr. Curtis cannot boast of being perfectly sane?” - -“Be Jasus! and that same is precisely what I’ve often been afther -thinking!” cried the Captain, determined to humour the supposed -lunatics as much as possible. “As for Frank Curtis here, he’s as mad as -the Irish pig that wouldn’t go one particular way save and excipt at -such times that it belaved it was being driv another. As for meself, -bad luck to me! I’m not blind to my own failings--and I know purty well -that I’m as cracked as any damned ould laky tay-kettle.” - -The accommodating humour of Captain O’Blunderbuss, who unhesitatingly -pronounced himself and his friend Mr. Curtis to be insane, under the -impression that such an admission would prove highly gratifying to -those to whom it was made, produced such an effect upon the young -nobleman and the baronet, that they became almost convulsed with -laughter: and it was indeed fortunate that this scene occurred, -inasmuch as its extreme ludicrousness tended materially to raise the -spirits of Sir Gilbert Heathcote after the wrongs he had suffered and -the incarceration he had endured. - -It is impossible to say how long the equivoque and the consequent -hilarity would have lasted, had not the cab suddenly stopped in front -of a handsome house in Park square. - -“Now,” thought both Captain O’Blunderbuss and Frank Curtis at the -same time, “we shall see the bubble burst very shortly; and it will -transpire who our two mad friends really are.” - -The summons at the front-door was speedily answered by the appearance -of Fitzgeorge in his plain clothes and a couple of footmen in livery, -all of whom had waited up the whole night in expectation of the -probable return of their master. - -As for Fitzgeorge, he ran up to the door of the cab, and perceiving Sir -Gilbert inside, exclaimed with unaffected delight, “Thank God! your -lordship’s scheme has proved triumphant!” - -At these words Captain O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Frank Curtis uttered -involuntary ejaculations of astonishment: for they began to think that -one of their new friends was really a nobleman after all, and that they -might neither of them prove to be lunatics in the long run. - -Leaping from the cab, Trevelyan invited the gallant gentleman and his -companion to enter the house, observing, with a laugh, “However insane -we may all be, we will at least exercise the common prudence of taking -a little refreshment after all the hard work and momentous proceedings -of the night.” - -In a few instants the Captain and Frank found themselves conducted into -an elegantly furnished apartment, in the midst of which was a table -laid out with costly plate, and spread with a cold repast consisting -of dainties that made their months water even to gaze upon. It was -likewise a source of great satisfaction to the two gentlemen to behold -a buffet well stored with wine and spirits, amongst which latter the -Captain had no difficulty in recognising some poteen of the real -orthodox colour. - -The nobleman and his guests took their seats at table, and did -ample justice alike to viands and to wine. Indeed, it was amazingly -refreshing to behold the appetite with which the Captain and Frank -Curtis addressed themselves to the former, and the zest with which they -partook of the latter. They no longer believed that either Trevelyan -or Sir Gilbert was mad; and when the former gave them the whole -particulars of the story which he had only half finished in the cab, -they laughed heartily at the misconceptions they had formed. - -Under the influence of the poteen, which was duly produced after -supper,--if supper such a meal could called, as it was now long past -three o’clock in the morning,--the Captain and Frank Curtis became -particularly talkative; when it appeared that, existing under grievous -apprehension of certain formidable beings denominated “sheriff’s -officers,” they had hired lodgings in the classic region of Globe -Town, and that, having spent the evening and best portion of the night -at a public-house in the Hackney Road, they were taking a short cut -homeward, past the Doctor’s house, when they became the witnesses of -the scene wherein they immediately after bore so distinguished a part. - -From these and other revelations, which the Captain purposely -suffered to ooze out as if quite unintentionally, Trevelyan and Sir -Gilbert gleaned sufficient to convince them that their new friends -were “gentlemen under a cloud;” and they were not sorry at having -ascertained a fact which at once placed them in a position to testify -their gratitude for the services of the night. - -Accordingly, after exchanging a few words in a low tone with Sir -Gilbert, Lord William Trevelyan wrote something upon a slip of paper, -and then addressed Captain O’Blunderbuss and Frank Curtis in the -following manner:-- - -“You will pardon me, my friends, for the liberty I am about to take -and the observations I am on the point of offering. But it has struck -Sir Gilbert Heathcote and myself, from certain words which fell from -your lips in the excitement of convivial discourse, that you have -experienced some little disappointment respecting the arrival of -remittances; and we shall be alike honoured and rejoiced if you will -permit us to use the freedom of friends under such circumstances. It -is probable that a few hundreds may be of some trifling service to you -at this moment; and it will prove a source of unfeigned delight to Sir -Gilbert and myself if, in return for the generous aid you afforded us, -we can in any way relieve you from a temporary inconvenience.” - -Thus speaking, Lord William handed the slip of paper to Captain -O’Blunderbuss, who, hastily glancing at it as he folded it up -preparatory to consignment to his pocket, observed that it was a cheque -for five hundred pounds. - -“Be Jasus! my dear frinds,” he exclaimed, addressing himself to the -young nobleman and the baronet, “ye do things in such a handsome way -that I don’t know how to expriss my thanks at all, at all. Curthis, ye -spalpeen!” he cried, suddenly turning round upon his companion, “why -the divvel don’t ye jine in making a spache on the occasion?--since -my lor-r-d and Sir Gilbert have lint us five hunthred pounds to -relave us from our timporary difficulties. But I’ll unthertake to -repay that same, my frinds,” he continued, again addressing his words -directly to Trevelyan and Heathcote, “the moment I resave my rints -from Ould Ir-reland--and bad luck to ’em! So here’s afther wishing us -succiss--and be damned to all mad-docthors, say I!” - -Having achieved this beautiful peroration, Captain O’Blunderbuss tossed -off at a single draught the entire contents of a large tumbler of -scalding toddy, and then rose to take his departure. - -Frank Curtis, who was in a most glorious state of mental -obfuscation--beholding two Trevelyans, two baronets, two captains, -and heaven only knows how many wax-candles--was with some difficulty -induced to stand upon his legs; and his Irish friend was more troubled -still to make him use the aforesaid legs when he did get upon them. -However, after some little persuasion and more threatening on the part -of the Captain, Frank Curtis suffered himself to be led forth from the -hospitable mansion. - -As soon as Trevelyan and Sir Gilbert Heathcote were alone, the former -related to his friend the particulars of the various interviews which -had taken place between himself and Mrs. Sefton--that lady’s discovery -of her daughter Agnes--and her removal to the villa at Bayswater. - -The baronet was profoundly agitated--but it was with mingled surprise -and joy--when he heard those tidings relative to Agnes: he rose and -paced the room with uneven steps,--and then, reseating himself, -appeared anxious to make certain revelations--or rather, unbosom his -mind to his young friend. But, feeling perhaps unequal to the task -at that moment, after the long hours of excitement through which he -had just passed, he said, abruptly, “Trevelyan, I have matters of -importance to confide to you: but it shall be for another occasion! I -must now leave you--’tis nearly five o’clock--the morning has dawned -some time--and I am impatient to repair to the villa at Bayswater.” - -“Will you not take an hour’s repose before you depart?” inquired Lord -William Trevelyan. - -“Oh! I could not close my eyes in sleep again until I have embraced -those who----But pardon me for this excitement--this agitation,” -exclaimed Sir Gilbert, interrupting himself suddenly. “To-morrow I will -tell you all--everything,” he added, pressing Trevelyan’s hand warmly: -“and then you will better comprehend the feelings which move me now. -Farewell, my dear friend, for the present.” - -Sir Gilbert was about to take his departure, when Fitzgeorge entered -the room, and addressing himself to his master, said, “My lord, I had -forgotten to inform your lordship that when I returned hither last -evening, after leaving you at Dr. Swinton’s, I found the Marquis of -Delmour waiting----” - -“The Marquis of Delmour!” ejaculated Sir Gilbert Heathcote. - -“Yes, sir,” replied Fitzgeorge. “The Marquis appeared to be in a very -excited state, and was most anxious to see your lordship,” continued -the valet, again addressing himself to his master. “I assured him that -your lordship was gone out of town, and might not return for a day or -two--whereupon he almost flew into a rage with me for giving him such -information. He paced the room in great agitation, and asked me several -questions relative to any ladies who might visit at the mansion: but I -answered that your lordship was not accustomed to receive visitresses -at all. At length he took his departure, stating that he should call -again in the morning at ten o’clock, and take his chance of finding -your lordship at home.” - -“I understand full well the meaning of this visit on the part of the -Marquis,” said Sir Gilbert Heathcote to Trevelyan, when the valet had -retired; “but I have not time for explanations now. My impatience to -repair to Bayswater is intense, unseasonable though the hour is for -arousing ladies from their slumbers. One request I have, however, -to make, my dear Trevelyan,” added the baronet; “and this is, that -you will not, under any circumstances, communicate to the Marquis of -Delmour the address of the villa occupied by Mrs. Sefton and Agnes.” - -“Be well assured, my dear friend,” answered the young nobleman, “that -the secret is safe with me.” - -The baronet wrung Trevelyan’s hand with the cordial warmth of deep -gratitude and sincere attachment, and then took his departure. - -Lord William lay down for a few hours, and enjoyed a sound slumber -until nine o’clock, when he rose and dressed himself to receive the -Marquis of Delmour. - -Punctually as the clock struck ten, a handsome carriage drove up to the -door; and the Marquis, hastily alighting, was immediately conducted -into the drawing-room where Trevelyan awaited his presence. - - - - -CHAPTER CXCI. - -THE OLD MARQUIS AND THE YOUNG LORD. - - -“My lord, you are a man of honour, I have heard,” began the Marquis, -without any prefatory observations; “and I feel assured that you will -at once relieve me from a most painful state of suspense. Pardon -the excitement which I display--and justify the good opinion I have -conceived of you by giving me without delay the information I am about -to seek. In a word, where is Agnes--my daughter Agnes--the young lady -whom you have seen walking in the garden of the secluded cottage near -Norwood?” - -“Is that beautiful creature indeed your lordship’s daughter?” exclaimed -Trevelyan, not altogether surprised at the announcement: for the -agitation which Sir Gilbert Heathcote had shown when the name of the -Marquis of Delmour was mentioned, and the request which he had made to -the effect that the residence of Mrs. Sefton should be kept secret, had -already created in the mind of Lord William a suspicion of the real -truth. - -“Yes--Agnes is indeed my daughter--and I am proud of her!” cried the -Marquis. “But I know that she was inveigled away from the cottage -by one who----by her own mother, in fine----and I am likewise aware -that you subsequently entrusted her to the care of a lady of your -acquaintance. This latter information I obtained from a certain Mrs. -Mortimer----” - -“The information was correct, my lord,” answered Trevelyan. “And now I -must candidly confess that I have a very difficult part to perform: for -I will not condescend to a falsehood--and I dare not reveal the truth. -This much, however, I unhesitatingly declare--that, by a singular -coincidence, the lady to whom I conducted your lordship’s daughter -proved to be none other than her mother.” - -“Her mother! then she is at this moment in the care of that woman?” -ejaculated the Marquis, his excitement increasing: “and you will not -tell me where I can find them?” - -“That is the truth which, as I said ere now, I dare not repeat,” -responded Trevelyan, profoundly touched by the evident grief of the old -nobleman. - -“Will you be the means of separating a father from his child?” asked -the Marquis, now sinking through exhaustion upon a sofa--for hitherto -he had remained standing, although Trevelyan had twice courteously -indicated the chair that had been placed for his accommodation. - -[Illustration] - -“Were I to yield to your lordship’s desire,” said the young -nobleman,--“were I to give you the address of--of--” - -“Call _her_ Mrs. Sefton, if you will,” interrupted the Marquis, -bitterly: “I know that she passes and has long passed under that name.” - -“Well, my lord--were I to give you the address of that lady,” resumed -Trevelyan, “I should be adopting a course calculated to separate a -mother from her child.” - -“But that mother is unworthy of being entrusted with the care of her -daughter!” exclaimed the Marquis of Delmour, emphatically. - -“My lord, I have not the slightest inclination to enter into matters of -a private nature, and regarding your own family,” said Trevelyan, with -firmness, yet courtesy--and even with commiseration for the sorrow of -the old noble: “much less,” he added, “should I like to be constituted -a judge between your lordship and the Marchioness of Delmour--for such -I presume Mrs. Sefton to be.” - -“Without placing your lordship in any disagreeable or invidious -position,” said the Marquis, growing more tranquil as his naturally -powerful mind suggested the utter inutility of giving way to -excitement, “I may yet address you not only in your capacity of -a nobleman endowed with high intelligence and strict notions of -integrity, but also as one who--unless I be much deceived--experiences -an honourable passion for my daughter. Ah! I perceive by your -countenance that such indeed is the sentiment you entertain for Agnes: -and now, therefore, as her father will I address you--as her parent, -her protector, and her natural guardian, I invoke your attention.” - -“It would be disrespectful alike to your age and rank, and also to your -position as the father of her whom I sincerely and devotedly love, were -I to refuse to hear whatever your lordship may have to communicate,” -said Trevelyan, after a few moments reflection. - -“Thanks--a thousand thanks!” ejaculated the Marquis: “I shall yet move -you in my favour! But tell me--you are acquainted with one whom, if you -please, we will continue to call Mrs. Sefton: has she ever communicated -to you any particulars of her earlier life?” - -“Frankly and candidly,” replied the young nobleman, “she has confided -to me a portion of those particulars; and I have this day learnt -sufficient to fill up the few blanks which she left in her narrative.” - -“You know, then,” resumed his lordship, “that I wedded her against her -consent: but I knew not at the time--as God is my judge!--that I was -so completely sealing her misery by that marriage. Sophia--that is her -Christian name--was young and beautiful when I first saw her--Oh! so -beautiful that I became madly in love with her: and you may perhaps -be aware that love is selfish--claiming its object at any price, and -at any sacrifice. Her father was in deep pecuniary difficulties--nay, -more--he had done things which would have dishonoured his name and -even endangered his personal safety. I had an enormous fortune at my -command--I told him that I adored his daughter--and he promised me her -hand. On that occasion he concealed from me the fact that the young -lady’s affections were already engaged: indeed, he assured me that -love was as yet a stranger to her bosom, but that she had been struck -by my appearance, although I was so much her senior. The duplicity -of the father was the first fault in that long chain of unpleasant -circumstances and untoward incidents: and, relying on all that he had -thus told me, I at once advanced a hundred thousand pounds to relieve -him from his embarrassments. Soon, however, did I begin to perceive -that my visits were rather tolerated than encouraged by his charming -daughter Sophia; and then I learnt--but not from _her_ lips--that she -loved another. I felt indignant with the father--while I passionately -coveted the daughter; and under the influence of those feelings I -pressed my suit. I was resolved not to be made a dupe by the sire, and -sacrificed by the young lady to a rival. Had she herself frankly and -candidly revealed to me the state of her affections--thrown herself -upon my mercy--appealed to my honour, I should have acted a generous -part, my lord--yes--I should have been generous!” - -“But the young lady was coerced by her father, who intimidated her at -one time and ridiculed her at another,” observed Trevelyan: “I remember -full well that she told me of her sire’s unfeeling conduct towards her.” - -“Yes--and to me also she made the same revelation, when it was too -late,” continued the Marquis. “However, it was under such inauspicious -circumstances that our marriage took place; and again I appeal to -heaven to attest the truth of my words when I declare that I treated -her with all possible tenderness, affection, and regard.” - -“She has done your lordship that justice in narrating those particulars -to me,” remarked Trevelyan. - -“But I could not render her happy,” resumed the Marquis: “she was -constantly weeping--and our honeymoon resembled an interval of mourning -after a funeral, rather than a season of felicity succeeding a bridal. -Much as I exerted myself to please her--lavish as I was with money to -procure her the means of recreation and enjoyment--profuse as I became -with the most costly gifts, not only to herself but likewise to all her -relatives and friends, I could never win a smile from her lips. Now -your lordship will admit that this was more than an unpleasant life -to lead--it was absolutely wretched. But your lordship may conceive -the deep vexation which I experienced when, having succeeded on one -occasion in inducing the Marchioness to appear at a ball given by some -friends, I saw her pale countenance suddenly glow with animation and -her eye light up with joy as Gilbert Heathcote advanced to solicit -her hand for a quadrille. And she smiled, too--yes, she smiled--and, -oh! how sweetly upon _him_, as her elegant figure moved with dignity -and grace in the mazy dance. My soul seemed as if it were withering -up within me: I am confident that I must have eyed them with the -ferocity of a lynx. But Sophia appeared to have forgotten that I was -present--that there was such a being in the world as I: her whole -attention was devoted to my rival--her whole thoughts were absorbed in -the pleasure of his society. She danced with him more than once--she -sate next to him at the supper-table--and after the banquet she waltzed -with him. I have ever detested that voluptuous--that licentious--that -indecent dance: but how I loathed--oh! how I loathed it on this -occasion! I tore myself away from the ball-room, and sought a secluded -corner in the card-room. There I endeavoured to reason with myself -upon the absurdity of my jealous rage--of the ridicule to which any -manifestation of the feeling would expose me--and of the contempt I -should inevitably draw down upon myself from my wife, did I allow her -to perceive how much I was annoyed at what she would doubtless consider -a trivial matter. Thus exercising a powerful command over my emotions, -I even assumed a smiling countenance when we returned home, and when I -congratulated her upon having been in such high spirits. But all her -coldness and inanimation had come back, and I thought within myself -that she would not appear thus if Gilbert Heathcote were still in her -society.” - -“My lord, pardon me--but wherefore enter into details which only arouse -reminiscences so painful to yourself?” interrupted Trevelyan. - -“Bear with me yet a little while,” said the Marquis, speaking in so -mild and plaintive a tone that Lord William could not find it in his -heart to manifest any impatience or any farther disinclination to -hear the old nobleman’s narrative: “bear with me, I say--for I have -a motive in entering into these details,” he continued. “At the same -time, I will not be too prolix, although there are a thousand little -circumstances which recur to my memory, and which might be quoted to -prove how patient and enduring I was under the cruel indifference -wherewith I was treated. But I will content myself by observing -that Sophia smiled only on those occasions when she encountered -Gilbert Heathcote in society or in the fashionable promenades: at -other times she shrouded herself in a species of dreamy apathy. Her -father, perceiving when it was too late how utterly he had wrecked -his daughter’s happiness, died of a broken heart: but, strange to -say, it was not long after this event that Sophia appeared suddenly -to rally a little and seek a more active existence. She began to take -frequent airings in the carriage--grew addicted to shopping--accepted -every invitation that was sent for balls, routs, card-parties, and -concerts--and requested me to take a box at the Opera: in fine, -she speedily plunged into the routine of fashionable dissipation. -Nevertheless, when alone with me, she was ever cold and reserved--if -not positively sullen and morose. In the course of time she was in the -way to become a mother--and I hoped that the birth of a child might -subdue a portion of her coldness towards me, even if the tie were not -strong enough to induce her to love me. But when Agnes--my darling -Agnes--was born, her manner varied not one tittle in respect to myself. -Time passed on--and at last I began to entertain serious suspicions of -the fidelity of my wife--for I found that she had frequent interviews, -not altogether accidental, with Sir Gilbert Heathcote, who about that -time succeeded to a baronetcy and a tolerable fortune. I remonstrated -with the Marchioness upon her imprudence--to give her conduct no -harsher name; and then began a series of quarrels, disputes and -bickerings, which made my life more wretched than ever. On one of those -occasions she reproached me for having married her--and she declared -that she never had loved, and never could love me. Alas! I knew it but -too well,--knew also that she _had_ loved, and _still_ loved another! -And it was likewise after one of those disputes to which I have alluded -that a horrible suspicion first entered my mind--a suspicion that the -Marchioness had been unfaithful to me, and that Agnes was not my own -child.” - -“Oh! my lord--continue this painful narrative no farther!” exclaimed -Trevelyan. “It shocks me to be thus made the depositary of secrets of -so delicate a nature!” - -“Again do I implore your patience, Lord William,” cried the Marquis: -“and as I have advanced thus far in my sad story, permit me to carry it -on to the conclusion. I was observing, then, that a dreadful suspicion -seized upon me--and yet I dared not accuse my wife of incontinency. -_She_ divined what was passing in the depths of my tortured soul--_she_ -conjectured the nature of the apprehension which now began to haunt me -like a ghost! Oh! how I longed to question her--to know the worst--or -to hear her proclaim the injustice of my suspicion: but, no--I dared -not touch upon the subject--my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth -whenever I sought to frame the words that should accuse her. And in -this manner did we drag on a wretched existence,--I experiencing all -the misery of having a young wife who could not love me--and she -feeling all the bitterness of her position in being allied to an old -husband who had grown so jealous and so suspicious. At last the day -came when all my repugnance to utter the fatal accusation suddenly -vanished. I had been more than ordinarily provoked--for at a _dejeuner_ -given at the house of some friends, the Marchioness received with such -evident satisfaction the marked attentions of Sir Gilbert Heathcote, -that I felt myself insulted and outraged in the presence of the -entire company. Accordingly, when we returned home in the afternoon, -a violent scene took place between the Marchioness and myself; and -it was then that, in a paroxysm of rage, I proclaimed the suspicion -which I had for some time cherished--I accused her of infidelity--I -revealed the doubt which existed in my mind relative to my paternal -claims to the affections of the infant Agnes. Never--never shall I -forget that memorable day! The Marchioness heard me--gazed on me -fixedly--appeared stupefied and astounded for nearly a minute,--while -her countenance became pale as marble--her lips quivered--and her bosom -heaved convulsively. I was terrified at her manner--she appeared at -that moment to be _Injured Innocence_ personified--I could have thrown -myself at her feet and implored her pardon! But, in a thick and hollow -voice, she said, ‘_All is now at an end, my lord, between you and me! -We part--for ever!_’--A dizziness came over me--I felt that I had done -wrong--that I had gone too far,--and I would have given worlds to be -able to recall the fatal accusation! For I was now as firmly convinced -of her innocence, as I had a few minutes before been deeply imbued with -suspicion;--and I cursed--I anathematised the rashness that had marked -my conduct. It was a painful--a distressing scene: for I remember that -I fell upon my knees to implore her forgiveness--to beseech her to -remain, if not for my sake, at least for that of the child. But this -appeal only excited her the more: and when I adjured her in the name -of her infant daughter to stay, she uttered a wild cry and fled, as if -suddenly seized with insanity, from the house.” - -Here the Marquis paused for a few moments, and passed his handkerchief -rapidly over his eyes:--the reminiscences of the past were still -powerful enough to move him to tears! - -“I shall not now detain you long, my lord,” he resumed. “Whither my -wife went, I knew not;--but in a short time I heard that she was -living in the strictest seclusion and under a feigned name. Will -you not despise me when you learn that I employed a spy to watch -her actions--to institute inquiries concerning her pursuits and her -conduct? But I will conceal nothing from you--and I candidly admit -that such was the course which I adopted: for, though I still believed -that she was innocent up to the time when my abrupt accusation drove -her from the house, I nevertheless naturally conjectured that, on thus -quitting me, she had sought the protection of him whom she loved. I -was not therefore surprised to hear that Sir Gilbert Heathcote was a -frequent visitor at the abode of Mrs. Sefton--by which name she was now -known:--but I was unable to glean any positive evidence of criminality -on her part. And did I seek such evidence? Yes--for a raging jealousy -had taken possession of me; and I longed to punish _her_ for daring to -love my rival as she did! But as time passed on and sober reflection -worked its influence upon me, I grew ashamed of the course I had -adopted--and I now resolved to hush up to the utmost of my power the -unhappy position in which I stood with regard to my wife. For I already -felt deeply attached to my little daughter--and I determined that, if -human precautions could prevent such a misfortune, she should never -have to blush for a mother’s shame. I was strengthened in this resolve -by the fact that the Marchioness herself was disposed to shroud the -past in secrecy as much as possible: else wherefore the feigned name -which she had adopted, and the seclusion in which she dwelt? But in the -course of a few months certain events transpired which threatened to -lay bare to the public the whole of this most painful history. I must -explain myself more fully by stating that my wife’s father had made -a will leaving some landed property to me, and which was to descend -to the child or children that might spring from my marriage with his -daughter. A distant male relative of his now set up a claim to that -property; and proceedings were taken in the Court of Chancery, from -which it transpired that the Marquis and Marchioness of Delmour were -living apart--by mutual consent, as it was alleged--and that their -infant child was in the charge of the Marquis himself. I shall not -weary you with particulars nor details: suffice it to say that the -proceedings took such a turn and were of such a nature as to lead to -a decree to this effect--that the claims of the distant relative were -rejected--that trustees were appointed by the Court to administer the -property, until Agnes should attain the age of twenty-one--and that, as -no allegation of misconduct had been made against the Marchioness of -Delmour, she should have the charge of her daughter!” - -This portion of the Marquis’s narrative will explain to the reader -wherefore, when conversing with his daughter at the cottage, as -detailed in Chapter CLXI., he said to her, “Two years more, and I -shall no longer have any secrets from you:” because at the expiration -of that period, Agnes would attain her majority. The decree in -Chancery likewise explained the ground upon which Mrs. Sefton--_alias_ -the Marchioness of Delmour--had observed to Trevelyan, in Chapter -CLXXXI., that “the law was in her favour,” in respect to any endeavour -that might be made to wrest Agnes from her care; and the same fact -elucidates the meaning of her ladyship’s remark that two years must -elapse ere she could venture to dispose of the hand of her daughter in -marriage. - -“Thus was it,” resumed the Marquis, after a brief pause, “that those -accursed proceedings which I did not provoke, and which, when once -commenced, I could not arrest,--thus was it that they suddenly placed -my infant daughter within the jurisdiction of the Chancery Court, -and deprived me of the right of retaining her in my care. It is true -that I might have instituted counter-proceedings in respect to this -portion of the decree: but then I should have been compelled to -attack the reputation of my wife--prove her to be an adultress, if -such evidence could be acquired--and cover a noble family with shame, -while a species of hereditary taint would cling to the reputation of -my Agnes. Now, my lord, you can understand my motive in rearing her -under circumstances of such privacy--such secresy,--in dooming her -to an existence of seclusion--almost of solitude,--and of adopting -all possible precautions to prevent her falling into the hands of her -mother. And now, also, that you are acquainted with this most sad--this -most unhappy history, I appeal to you whether you will be the means of -permitting the innocent Agnes to remain in the care of her unworthy -parent. If you really love her, my lord--if you propose to make her -your wife when she attains her majority--I put it to your honour and -to your good sense whether it be preferable that she should pass the -interval of two years with her mother, who occupies so equivocal a -position--or with her father, who has ever done his duty towards her.” - -Trevelyan was cruelly embarrassed by this appeal, which in reality -carried so much weight with it and involved so important a point, -that he knew not how to act. Much as he was disposed to make all -possible allowances for Mrs. Sefton--as we had better continue to call -her,--much as he pitied her in consequence of the wretched marriage -into which she had been forced--and great as the excuse was for her -connexion with Sir Gilbert Heathcote,--he nevertheless could not avoid -being shocked at the idea of the young creature whom he intended to -make his wife, remaining in the maternal care. - -His good sense and propriety of feeling naturally prompted him, -therefore, to advocate the father’s claim to the guardianship of Agnes: -but on the other hand, the solemn pledge he had given to Sir Gilbert -Heathcote, and likewise his confidence in the good principles of Mrs. -Sefton, in spite of her equivocal position--all this forbade him to -side at once with the Marquis. Yet how was he to remain neutral?--he -who had such a deep and tender interest in the welfare of the -lovely--the innocent--the artless Agnes! - -While he was still hesitating what course to adopt, and walking up -and down the room in an excited manner,--while, too, the Marquis of -Delmour, who remained seated upon the sofa, was watching him with the -most intense anxiety,--a loud double knock and ring at the front door -startled both the noblemen. - -“I will not receive any one at present!” exclaimed Trevelyan; and -hastily opening the drawing-room door, he hurried out upon the landing, -whence he was about to give instructions to the hall-porter to deny him -to the visitor, whoever it might be. - -But the front-door was already opened; and both the Marquis and -Trevelyan heard the hall-porter observing, evidently in reply to a -question that had been put to him--“His lordship is particularly -engaged, madam, at the present moment: the Marquis of Delmour is with -his lordship in the drawing-room.” - -“The Marquis of Delmour--eh?” exclaimed a female voice, not unknown to -either of the noblemen. “Oh! I am acquainted with the Marquis as well -as with my friend Lord William--and I will therefore take the liberty -of intruding upon them.” - -Before the hall-porter could offer any farther objection, the obtrusive -female brushed past him and hurried up the marble staircase--Trevelyan -having already retreated into the drawing-room. - -In a few moments the young nobleman and the Marquis were equally -annoyed by the appearance of Mrs. Mortimer, who, decked out in the -gayest style, thus unceremoniously forced her way into their presence. - - - - -CHAPTER CXCII. - -MRS. MORTIMER IN LONDON AGAIN. - - -“This is really most fortunate, my lords!” exclaimed the old woman, -as she entered with a smirking countenance and a self-sufficient air. -“I wished to see you both as early as convenient this morning--and, -behold! I find you together. How is the pretty Agnes? Has not your -lordship discovered that I told you the truth, when I referred you -to this house for information respecting her?” she inquired, turning -towards the Marquis. - -“Yes, madam,” he exclaimed, hastily: “and as I shall proceed direct -hence to my bankers, to instruct them relative to certain cheques which -I recently gave in Paris, you may present your draft in the course of -the day with the certainty of receiving the amount. I presume that it -was for this purpose you desired to see me!” - -“Precisely so, my lord,” responded the old woman, scarcely able to -conceal the boundless joy which she now experienced: for the Marquis -had given her precisely the very information which she was anxious to -obtain--namely, _that his banker would in the course of the day be -directed to cash the various cheques he had recently given when in -Paris!_ - -“And what business can you possibly have to transact with me, madam?” -demanded Lord William Trevelyan, in a tone of the most chilling hauteur. - -“I thought of doing your lordship a service,” answered Mrs. Mortimer; -“and yet the manner in which I am received, is but a sorry recompense -for my good intentions.” - -“To speak candidly, madam,” said the young noble, “I mistrust your -intentions and do not require your services.” - -“It is true enough that the presence of the Marquis here has -forestalled the purport of my own visit,” observed Mrs. Mortimer, -secretly enjoying the vexation which she evidently caused Lord William -by remaining in the room. “But I may as well prove to you that those -intentions which you affect to mistrust, were really good; and -therefore I will at once inform your lordship that I came to relate -to you all that took place between the Marquis and me in Paris three -days ago. For I thought that I might as well prepare you for a visit on -the part of my Lord Delmour; and I was in hopes of being the first to -reveal to you the high birth of the young lady whom you had believed to -be plain _Agnes Vernon_.” - -“For which officiousness you would have expected a handsome -remuneration,” said Lord William, with a contemptuous curling of the -lip. “No--madam: you will not obtain a single guinea from me! I can -read your character thoroughly--and, grieved as I am to be compelled to -address a female in so harsh a manner, I must nevertheless beg you to -relieve me of your presence as speedily as possible.” - -“I have no wish to intrude myself any longer upon your lordships,” -observed Mrs. Mortimer; and, with a respectful curtsey to the Marquis -and a stiff inclination of the head to Trevelyan, she took her -departure. - -“And now, my lord,” said the impatient Marquis, “that we are relieved -of the company of that despicable woman--for in no other light can I -regard her--may I solicit your decision in the important matter that -yet remains to be settled?” - -“It grieves me--believe me, my dear Marquis, it pains me to keep you in -suspense,” returned Trevelyan: “but on one side my inclination prompts -me to act in accordance with your wishes--on the other, my word is -pledged to retain the abode of--of----” - -“Mrs. Sefton,” interrupted the old nobleman, hastily. - -“To retain the address of that lady a profound secret,” added -Trevelyan. “But this much I will promise--this much I will -undertake:--without delay to repair to Mrs. Sefton and urge her to -deliver up Lady Agnes to your care. I have that confidence in her -rectitude of principle, which induces me to hope for success when I -shall have placed the entire matter before her in its proper light.” - -“With this assurance I must rest contented for the present,” observed -the Marquis. “But hear the resolution to which I have come,” he -continued, rising from his seat, and speaking in a tone of excitement. -“Hitherto I have done all I could--aye, and far more than the -generality of injured husbands would have done--to cast a veil over -the unhappy circumstances which I have this morning related to you. -But should she refuse to deliver up my daughter to my care--should she -entrench herself behind the decision of the Chancery Court--I shall -then remain peaceable no longer. It shall be war--open war--between her -and me. I will appeal to the tribunals of my country--I will apply to -the Ecclesiastical Court and the House of Lords for a divorce--and I -will adopt the necessary proceedings and furnish the proper evidence to -induce the Lord Chancellor to deprive the erring mother of the care of -her child. Such is my determination, Lord William--and you may use the -menace, which is no idle one, to bring that woman to reason.” - -With these words the Marquis pressed the hand of the young nobleman, -and took his leave hastily. - -Mrs. Mortimer, who was seated in a cab at a little distance, watching -for the departure of the Marquis, beheld him enter his carriage, which -immediately drove away; and the humbler vehicle was thereupon directed -to follow the more imposing equipage. - -The carriage proceeded into the Strand, and stopped at the door of an -eminent banking-house, which the Marquis entered. - -Mrs. Mortimer, having dogged him thither, alighted at a little distance -and dismissed the cab. - -She watched the old nobleman come forth again; and then she repaired to -a coffee-house in the neighbourhood where she ordered some refreshment -to be served up in a private room. She likewise demanded writing -materials; and when she was left to herself, she drew forth the cheque -for six hundred pounds which the Marquis of Delmour had given her. - -“Now for the grand blow,” she thought within herself, as she carefully -examined the draft: “and it must be struck boldly, too! But the aim is -worth all the risk:--sixty thousand pounds or transportation--those -are the alternatives! I have been possessed of enough money in my life -to know how sweet it is--and I have seen enough of transportation to -be well aware how bitter it is! And the former is so sweet that it -is worth while chancing all the bitters of the latter to obtain it. -Besides--apart from the delicious feeling of having a vast fortune -at my command--how delightful will it be to over-reach the haughty -Perdita--or Laura, as she chooses to call herself!” - -And here the old woman’s lips curled into a contemptuous sneer. - -“I have hitherto managed matters cleverly enough,” she continued in -her musings. “Ah! hah! Lord William Trevelyan thought that I called -upon him either to gratify some idle curiosity or to extort money. He -little suspected my drift! It was to see whether the Marquis had been -to him--to learn whether my information had been found correct--to -ascertain whether I might present the draft at the bankers’. And then -the old Marquis himself!--it was lucky that I found him there--I was -saved the trouble of calling at his mansion to worm out of him whether -he had instructed his bankers to pay the cheque,--not _my_ paltry draft -for six hundred--but Perdita’s grand amount of sixty thousand! In all -this I succeeded admirably: and now for the desperate venture.” - -Having thus communed with herself, Mrs. Mortimer partook of a little -refreshment; for she was anxious to while away an hour before she went -to the bank, so as not to present herself too soon after the visit of -the Marquis of Delmour to the establishment. - -When she had eaten and drank as drunk as much as she cared for, she -addressed herself to the grand project which she had in view, and in -furtherance of which she had demanded the private room and the writing -materials at the coffee-house. - -The writing of the Marquis was execrably bad; and it was not a very -difficult matter to add _ty_ to the _six_, and transform the word -_hundred_ into _thousand_, in the body of the cheque; while the simple -addition of 00 to the 600_l._ written in figures in the corner, -completed the forgery. - -The cheque, therefore, now stood for _sixty thousand pounds_, instead -of _six hundred_, payable to _bearer_, no particular name being -mentioned as the intended recipient. - -When the old woman had thus transformed the document, a glow of triumph -animated her hideous countenance: but in a few moments a chill--a cold, -creeping tremor came over her--as if a clammy snake were gradually -coiling itself around her form, underneath her clothes;--for she -remembered all the sensations which she had experienced when she -committed the forgery of Sir Henry Courtenay’s name nineteen years -previously! - -By a desperate effort the old woman shook off the painful feeling that -thus influenced her; and, resolving to allow herself no more leisure -for reflection, _lest her thoughts should make a coward of her_, -she rang the bell--paid the trifling amount incurred--and took her -departure from the coffee-house. - -During her walk to the bank, which was close at hand, she rapidly -calculated in her mind all the chances of success. The Marquis had -unquestionably been thither to give instructions relative to the -draft held by Laura as well as that which had been given to herself; -and there was not the slightest reason to fear that her daughter had -followed so closely on her steps from Paris as to have been able to -visit the bank during the hour that had just elapsed. As for the -excellence of the forgery--or rather of the alterations, Mrs. Mortimer -entertained no apprehension on that score; and thus, all things -considered, she deemed failure to be impossible. - -With an apparent outward composure, but with a palpitating heart, the -old woman entered the bank, and presented her cheque to one of the -clerks. He surveyed it narrowly--took it into the private office, -or parlour, doubtless to submit it to one of the proprietors of the -establishment or some responsible person--and remained away upwards of -two minutes. - -Two minutes!--but that interval was an age--a perfect age in the -imagination of the old woman! It was an interval composed of such -intense feelings that the hair of a young person might have turned -suddenly grey,--feelings of such burning hope and such awful suspense, -of such profound terror and fervid expectation, that while molten lead -appeared to drop upon one side of her heart, ice seemed to lay upon the -other! - -At length the clerk came back; and Mrs. Mortimer darted a -rapid--searching--penetrating glance at his countenance. - -Nothing save respect and civility could she trace thereon: and she -instantly knew that she was safe! - -Then came such a revulsion of feeling--such a subsiding of the terrors -and such an exaltation of the hopes which she had conceived--that it -was as if she were shooting upwards from the profundity of a deluge of -dark waters and suddenly breathed the fresh air again and beheld the -bright sun and the smiling heavens overhead. - -The clerk proceeded to count out bank-notes for the sum specified -in the cheque; and as he handed the fortune--yes, literally a -fortune--over to the old woman, he considerately gave her a caution to -take care of the vile characters who frequently lurked about the doors -of banking-houses. - -Mrs. Mortimer thanked the clerk for his well-meant advice, and sallied -forth from the establishment, with a heart so elate that she could -scarcely believe in the success of the tremendous fraud, now that it -had passed triumphantly through the ordeal. - -But as she was crossing the threshold, she heard a name suddenly -mentioned; and, hastily turning her head, she found herself face to -face with Jack Rily, the Doctor! - - - - -CHAPTER CXCIII. - -JACK RILY AND MRS. MORTIMER. - - -The individual whom Mrs. Mortimer thus unexpectedly and unpleasantly -encountered, had made a considerable improvement in his personal -appearance during the few days that had elapsed since she saw him last. - -The old fur cap, the greasy velveteen shooting-jacket, the rusty -waistcoat, the corduroy trowsers, and the heavy high-lows, were -exchanged for a shining silk hat, a complete suit of black clothes, -and a pair of Wellington boots: his shirt was likewise new and clean, -and he wore a satin stock instead of the blue cotton handkerchief tied -loosely round his neck. - -He had evidently endeavoured to make himself look as respectable as -he could: but the almost African hue of his complexion--the horrible -hare-lip, through the opening of which the large white teeth glistened -up to the gums--and the yellow fire that seemed to shine in the small -and restless eyes, gave him such a peculiar aspect that it was scarcely -possible for any one who passed to avoid noticing him. - -“Mrs. Mortimer, my beloved tiger-cat, how are you?” he exclaimed, -grasping the old woman’s hand and shaking it violently. - -“Very well, thank you, Mr. Rily: but pray do not detain me now, there’s -a good soul--for I have not a moment to spare----” - -“I shan’t detain you, old beauty,” interrupted Jack; “because I’ll -just do myself the pleasure of walking along with you. Come--take my -arm--you needn’t be ashamed to do so now: I think I’m pretty tidily -rigged--eh?” - -Thus speaking, he glanced complacently over his own person, and then -bestowed a look upon the outward appearance of Mrs. Mortimer, who, as -we have already observed, was dressed with unusual gaiety. - -“Come, my dear--take my arm,” exclaimed the Doctor. - -“Really, Mr. Rily, you must excuse me,” said the old woman, who was -most anxious to get away from the vicinity of the bank, but by no -means desirous of remaining in the company of the Doctor: “I have a -particular matter to attend to immediately! If, however, you desire to -see me, I shall be most happy to meet you this evening----” - -“This fiddlestick!” interrupted Jack Rily, impatiently. “You know that -you never kept the appointment you made with me after that Stamford -Street affair the other day--when you went away with the young girl in -the cab; and yet you assured me that there was money to be got through -her----” - -“Well, well--I have not time to talk of the matter now,” said Mrs. -Mortimer, angrily: “and I _must_ take my leave of you.” - -“Lord bless you! I’m not going to be put off in this fashion, old -lady,” cried Jack. “It suits me to have a little further chat with -you--and I’m determined the whim shall be gratified. So take my arm at -once, and come along. If we stand here palavering, we shall soon have a -mob about us--because it isn’t every day that two such handsome people -as you and I are seen together,” he added, with a horrible chuckle. - -“But perhaps you are not going my way,” said Mrs. Mortimer, still -hesitating to take the proffered arm, and deeply vexed at this -encounter. - -“Oh! yes I am--because I’ll go any way you like,” responded Jack Rily, -in the most accommodating spirit. - -“Well--you shall be my companion for a short time,” exclaimed Mrs. -Mortimer, affecting to laugh in good humour; and, taking his arm, she -proceeded with him along the Strand. - -“I met our friend Vitriol Bob last night at a public-house,” observed -Jack, who seemed quite proud of having the hideous old woman clinging -to him. “He looked remarkably savage when he saw me in my bran new -toggery--for he thought to himself that the money which purchased it -ought to have belonged to him. I hadn’t seen him since the night in -Stamford Street; and, as he had the impudence to stare at me in a -threatening manner, I went up to him and whispered in his ear, ‘_What -about old Torrens, Bob?_’ He turned quite livid with rage, and ground -his teeth together; then, after a few moments’ consideration, he -said--also in a whisper--‘_If it wasn’t that you knew that secret, I’d -serve you out nicely, old fellow: but I’ll be even with you yet, I dare -say._’--‘_Whenever you like, Bob_,’ said I; and then we sate down in -different parts of the room and stared at each other all the time we -were smoking our pipes. But not another word passed between us; and -the other people who were present, knowing that we were excellent pals -until lately, wondered what the devil was the matter.” - -“And did he bury the dead body, do you know?” inquired Mrs. Mortimer. - -“I didn’t put the question to him,” answered Jack Rily. “Nothing more -passed between us than what I have just told you: but I have no doubt -that he laid old Torrens two or three feet under the kitchen floor in -the Haunted House. And now, how do you suppose that I and Vitriol Bob -stand with regard to each other?” - -“As enemies, I should suppose,” replied Mrs. Mortimer, wondering by -what means she could possibly shake off her disagreeable companion. - -“As mortal--implacable--unrelenting enemies,” continued the man, -lowering his voice: for his loud talking had already attracted the -notice of the passers-by in the Strand, and he had just caught sight -of a policeman who appeared to be eyeing him rather suspiciously. -“Yes--as bitter enemies,” he repeated. “Not that I have any resentment -_now_ against Bob: because my revenge is gratified, and I am more than -even with him. But as he will take the first opportunity to thrust a -knife into my ribs, or dash his vitriol bottle in my face, whenever he -catches me in a lonely place,--why, I must be prepared to struggle with -him to the very death. So, my old tiger-cat,” added the Doctor, with -amazing cheerfulness, considering the gravity of the topic, “whenever -he and I do so meet, only one of us will walk away alive. That’s as -certain as that you’re leaning on my arm, and that I’m proud of your -company.” - -“Is Vitriol Bob, as you call him, such a desperate fellow?” inquired -Mrs. Mortimer, wishing the Doctor at the hottest place she could think -of. - -“Why, I’ve told you all about him before,” exclaimed Jack. “And now let -me give you a little piece of advice about yourself, old gal----” - -“About me!” repeated Mrs. Mortimer, with a shudder occasioned by a -presentiment of what she was going to hear. - -“Yes--about you, my tiger-cat,” repeated the Doctor. “Remember that -Vitriol Bob never forgets or forgives--and he owes you _one_. That’s -all! But, when I think of it, I shall constitute myself your lawful -protector--because I never _did_ meet any woman so precious ugly as you -are; and ugliness, when joined to ferocity, is beauty in my eyes--as I -have before told you.” - -“Well, well--we will discuss all these points another time,” said Mrs. -Mortimer. “I must leave you here,” she added, stopping suddenly short -at the corner of Wellington Street, leading to Waterloo Bridge. - -“Your way is mine,” observed Jack Rily, coolly, as he compelled her to -walk on. “But, by the bye, what were you doing in that bank at the door -of which I met you?” - -“I merely went in to see a clerk of my acquaintance,” replied the -old woman, cursing in her heart the odious companion who thus -pertinaciously attached himself to her. - -“Come, that won’t do, old gal!” exclaimed Jack, as he paid the toll for -them both at the gate of the bridge. “I am so well acquainted with all -the rigs and moves of London life, as to be able to tell in a moment -whether a person coming out of a bank has been to receive money, or -not. If it’s a gentleman, he feels at his breeches-pocket to see that -the cash is all safe--or he buttons his coat over his breast which -proves that the notes are in his waistcoat. If it’s a woman, she gripes -her reticule precious tight--or smoothes down her dress just over where -her pocket is--or else settles her shawl over her bosom, when the notes -are there. This last was precisely what you did; and therefore, my old -tiger-cat, I know that you’ve got money in the bosom of your dress as -well as if I saw you put it there.” - -“You’re quite wrong for once in your life, Mr. Rily,” said Mrs. -Mortimer, trembling at the remarks which had just fallen upon her ears. - -“Then why does your arm shake so as it hangs in mine?” demanded the -Doctor, with an imperturbability which frightened the old woman more -than if he had actually used threats: for, little as she had seen of -him, she was well enough acquainted with his character to perceive that -he was meditating mischief. - -“My arm did _not_ shake,” cried Mrs. Mortimer, mastering up all her -courage and presence of mind, “But here we are at the end of the -bridge, and I must bid you good-bye. When shall we meet again?” - -“We are not going to separate in a hurry, I can tell you,” said the -Doctor: “so don’t think it. You know I love you,” he added with a -horrible grin, which opened his harelip so wide that he seemed to be an -ogre about to devour her; “and I love much more still the bank-notes -that you have got in your bosom. Besides, it is my duty to protect you -from Vitriol Bob; and, in addition to all this, I think we shall be -able to knock up a very cozie partnership together.” - -“And suppose that I decline the honour you intend me?” asked the old -woman, assuming a tone of bitter sarcasm in order to induce Rily to -believe that she was not afraid--though, in reality, her heart was -sinking within her. - -“In the case which you have suggested, I shall force you to do as I -choose and act as I desire,” coolly responded the Doctor. - -“Force me, indeed!” repeated the old woman, withdrawing her arm, and -stopping short in the Waterloo Road. - -“Yes--force you,” said Jack Rily, compelling her to take his arm again -and also to walk on. “You had better not provoke me, because I am not -the man to stick at trifles; and if you make a noise and raise a mob, -I will swear black and blue that you are my wife--that you have bolted -with my money--and that the notes are concealed somewhere about your -person. Then, if the police should interfere, you will have to give -an account of how you became possessed of the notes aforesaid;--and I -dare say, from the estimate I have formed of your character, you would -not like to be questioned on that point. In a word, then--unless I am -mightily deceived--you have committed some nice little bit of roguery; -and I mean to go halves with you.” - -This tirade was spun out to such a length and delivered in such a -measured tone of coolness, that Mrs. Mortimer, who was perfectly -astounded at the menaces with which it opened, had leisure to recover -her self-possession: but the rapid survey of her position which she was -enabled to take while the Doctor was finishing his harangue, was far -from consolatory. She had indeed committed a little roguery, and would -indeed be sorry to be questioned by the police; and she knew, moreover, -that Jack Rily was quite capable of carrying all his threats into -immediate execution. - -What, then, was she to do? There was no alternative but to bend to -circumstances--make the best of a bad job--and trust to the chapter of -accidents so as to avail herself of any occurrence that might turn up -in her favour. - -“Well--you keep silent, old gal,” said the Doctor, after a short pause. -“Is it that you don’t admire me sufficiently to take me as a husband, -in the fashion of leaping over the broom-stick?” - -“It is of the utmost importance that I should attend to certain -pressing matters,” returned Mrs. Mortimer; “and afterwards I shall be -happy to fall into all your plans and projects.” - -“Well, we will attend to the pressing matters together,” said the -Doctor. “A husband and wife must have no secrets from each other. But -since we have come this way, and as my abode happens to lie in the -immediate neighbourhood, I propose at once to introduce you thereto -and install you as mistress of the place. I have got a comfortable -crib--for Torrens’s money did wonders for me as you may well suppose.” - -At this moment a project flashed to the mind of the old woman. What if -she were to yield, without farther hesitation or remonstrance, to the -Doctor’s proposals, and watch her opportunity either to murder him or -escape when he was asleep? By wheedling herself into his confidence, -she would know where he deposited the money which, she feared, must -pass from her hands into his own; and she could repossess herself of -it, if he were disposed of, or if she were wakeful while he slept. - -“I do not mind accompanying you to your lodgings,” she said; “and -there we can talk over the whole business much better than in the open -street.” - -“There! now you are getting into a better frame of mind,” observed Jack -Rily. “This way:”--and he turned into the low streets lying on the -left-hand side of the Waterloo Road, between Upper Stamford Street and -the New Cut. - -The neighbourhood alluded to swarms with brothels of the most infamous -description; and half-naked women may be seen at all hours lounging -about at the doors, and endeavouring to entice into their dens any -respectable-looking men who happen to pass that way. Robberies are of -frequent occurrence in those houses of ill fame; and the great aim of -the vile females inhabiting them, is to entrap persons who are the -worse for liquor and whose appearance denotes a well-filled purse. -Neighbourhoods of this kind should be shunned by all decent persons, as -if a pestilence were raging there! - -It was into Roupel-street that Jack Rily conducted Mrs. Mortimer; and -when he had introduced her to a small but well furnished parlour, with -a bed-chamber communicating by means of folding-doors, he produced a -bottle of brandy, saying, “Now let us drink to our happy meeting this -day!” - -Filling two glasses with the potent liquor, he handed one to the old -woman, who swallowed the contents greedily: for she felt that she stood -in need of a stimulant. - -“Now, my beautiful tiger-cat,” exclaimed the Doctor, as he drew -down the blind over the window, “I am about to subject you to a -little ceremony which may be perhaps looked upon as the least thing -uncourteous; but it must be accomplished all the same. So don’t let us -have any bother about it.” - -Thus speaking, he approached the cupboard whence he had taken the -brandy, and drawing forth a huge clasp-knife, he touched a spring which -made the blade fly open and remain fixed as if it were a dagger. - -“You do not mean to hurt me?” exclaimed the old woman, now becoming -terribly alarmed--so much so, that she sank exhausted into a chair, -while her looks were fixed appealingly on the man’s countenance. - -“Not unless you grow obstreperous or have any of your nonsense,” said -Jack. “I love you too well to harm you,” he added, with a leer that -made him more hideously ugly than ever: “but I must have my own way all -the same. So just be so kind as to place upon the table the Bank-notes -which you have got in the bosom of your gown. It is but fair that I -should have a wife who can bring me a dowry--and you must leave it to -my generosity,” he went on to say, with a chuckling laugh, “how much I -shall settle upon you afterwards.” - -[Illustration] - -While he was thus speaking, Mrs. Mortimer rapidly revolved in her mind -all the chances that were for or against her at that moment. Were she -to scream and attempt resistance, could she succeed in alarming the -neighbourhood before the miscreant would have plunged his dagger into -her?--or, indeed, would he have recourse to such an extreme measure -at all? These questions she at once decided against herself; and, -reverting to her former project of affecting obedience, she thrust her -hand into her bosom, dexterously separated a couple of the notes from -the rest of the bundle, and threw those two upon the table. - -Jack Rily instantly snatched them up; and when he perceived that they -were for _a thousand pounds_ each, he could scarcely contain his joy. - -Flinging the terrible clasp-knife on the floor, he rushed upon the old -woman, who was seized with too sudden and too profound a terror to -permit her even to give utterance to the faintest ejaculation--for she -thought that he intended to murder her: but her cruel apprehensions -fled in another moment when the loathsome monster, throwing his arms -about her neck, began to embrace and fondle her as if she were a -blooming beauty of seventeen instead of a hideous harridan upwards of -sixty. Nevertheless, old and polluted as she was, and inured to all -circumstances of disgust as her term of transportation had rendered -her, she revolted with a sickening sensation from the pawings and -caresses of the hare-lipped wretch who had thus enfolded her in his -horrible embrace. She therefore struggled to rid herself of him--to -escape from his arms: but he, almost maddened with the joy which the -sight of the bank-notes had raised up in his breast, hugged her only -the more tightly in proportion as her resistance became the more -desperate. - -“By heavens! I’ll kiss you again, old gal!” he exclaimed. “I care -not how ugly the world may consider you----Be quiet now, can’t -you?----to me you’re a paragon of beauty----Perdition! let go of me, -you hell-cat----there! now you’re magnificent in your rage--that’s the -humour I like to see a woman in----Hey-dey! what’s that?” - -And, as he uttered this ejaculation, he suddenly quitted his hold upon -Mrs. Mortimer, and pounced upon something that had rolled on the floor. - -It was the bundle of Bank-notes, which had fallen from the old woman’s -dress during the struggle. - -“By Jove! here’s a treasure--a fortune--a King’s ransom!” ejaculated -the Doctor, scarcely able to believe his eyes, as he hastily turned -over the notes with his hands. “My God! it is impossible!” he cried, -his wonderment increasing to such a pitch, that he began to think he -must be insane: then, a sudden idea striking him, he turned abruptly -towards Mrs. Mortimer, who had sunk back, exhausted and overwhelmed -with rage and grief, into the chair. “Ah! I understand it all now,” -he said, his voice changing in a moment to the low tone of solemn -mystery: “you are a nice old girl, you are! Yes--yes--I understand it -at last! These are all queer screens[26]--and you went into the bank to -smash[27] some of them. By Jove! it’s glorious.” - -Mrs. Mortimer, who was gasping for breath, could make no reply: her -mouth was parched--her tongue was as dry as if she had been travelling -for hours over a desert without tasting water. - -“And yet,” resumed Jack Rily, scrutinising the notes more narrowly -still, “these are precious good imitations--too good to be imitations, -indeed. I know enough of Bank-notes--aye, and of forged ones too--to -see that these are the genuine flimsies. Blood and thunder! what a -glorious old wretch you are!” he cried, again surveying her with a -joy that was entirely unfeigned and amounted almost to admiration. -“I suppose you have committed some splendid forgery. But of course -it must be something of that kind,” he added, a sudden reminiscence -striking him: “or else you wouldn’t have been so deucedly alarmed when -I threatened just now to kick up a row in the streets and attract the -notice of the police. So, you perceive, that I was pretty keen in my -surmises. I knew you had money concealed in your bosom--and I was -equally well convinced you had not obtained it by means that would bear -inquiry. However, here it is--in my possession--and it can’t be in -safer hands. I’ll just sit down quietly, and count how much there is.” - -Thus speaking, the monster picked up his clasp-knife, which he closed -and consigned to his pocket; and he next proceeded to inspect the -Bank-notes. But when he discovered the enormous sum to which they -amounted, his astonishment grew to such an extreme as even to subdue -his joy; and, shaking his head slowly, he observed, “This is such a -heavy affair that the police will leave no stone unturned to detect -the holders of the notes. Whatever we do, must be done at once; and in -order that I should be able to judge what course to pursue, you must -give me all the particulars of the transaction.” - -Mrs. Mortimer was struck by the truth of this observation: for she knew -that the moment the forgery was detected, payment of the notes would -be stopped, and advertisements announcing the usual caution would be -inserted in the newspapers. - -“Well, I suppose there is no use in disguising the real truth,” she -exclaimed, recovering her self-possession; “and I will tell you all -about it in a few words. A certain nobleman----” - -“Who is he?” demanded Rily. “Come--speak out plainly.” - -“The Marquis of Delmour, since you must know,” returned the old woman. - -“And what did he do,” asked the man, impatiently. - -“He gave me a cheque for six hundred pounds for a particular service -that I rendered him; and he also gave my daughter----” - -“Ah! you have got a daughter, eh?” exclaimed Jack Rily. “Is she -anything like yourself?” - -“She is as beautiful as an angel,” answered Mrs. Mortimer, a -scintillation of a mother’s pride flashing at the moment in her bosom: -“but as depraved and dissolute as a demoness,” she added almost -immediately. “Well, this Marquis of Delmour was wheedled by her out -of a cheque for sixty thousand pounds; and though my daughter kept it -quiet enough, I found out the secret. So away I sped--back to England I -came----” - -“Where did all this happen, then?” demanded Jack. - -“In Paris--three days ago,” replied Mrs. Mortimer. “On my arrival in -London, my course was easy----” - -“You may almost say _natural_,” interrupted the Doctor. “I understand -the business plainly enough at present. You altered your six hundred -pound draft into one for sixty thousand--and you have thus forestalled -your daughter?” - -“That is precisely how the matter stands,” said the old woman. - -“And when is it likely that your daughter will be in London to present -_her_ cheque?” asked the Doctor. - -“I should say that I had about twelve hours’ start of her,” was the -response; “and then, as she would not travel by night--having a -handsome young foreigner as her companion--the circumstance of her -stopping to sleep on the road would delay her pretty nearly another -twelve hours. Besides, she believes me to be still in Paris--she has -not the least idea of my sudden return to England; and therefore she -has no particular motive to induce her to adopt any extraordinary -speed.” - -“Well, well,” cried the Doctor, impatiently: “but all this palaver does -not answer my question. When do you expect your daughter will reach -London?” - -“This evening,” replied the old woman: “too late to present her -cheque at the bank. And there _are_ means--yes, there are means,” she -continued in a musing tone, “which, if skilfully adopted, would compel -my daughter to refrain from offering her draft at all, and likewise -force her to leave us in undisturbed possession of the money.” - -“And those means?” demanded Jack Rily, his eyes brightening. - -“Before I explain myself, let us come to a thorough understanding,” -said Mrs. Mortimer. “Will you restore me one-half of the amount you now -hold in your possession? I am content to abandon the other half to you.” - -“Yes, that is a bargain,” answered Jack Rily; “for I see that you do -not relish the idea of living with me altogether, and that you will -leave me when this matter is properly settled. Is it not so?” - -“Well, such is indeed my intention,” responded the old woman. - -“Our relative position now stands in this manner,” continued Jack -Rily: “there are sixty thousand pounds’ worth of good notes. With all -my connexion amongst fences and receivers of such flimsy, I could not -manage to obtain gold for more than two or three thousand in the -course of the day; and to-morrow morning your daughter may present -her cheque, when a discovery will take place, and all the rest of -the notes will be useless. As for going over to the continent, and -endeavouring to pass them there, the thing would be ridiculous; for -the advertisements in the newspapers would put all the money-changers -in Europe upon their guard. Thus far, then, the notes are not worth -more than two or three thousand pounds to me. But, on the other hand, -you say that you have the means of stopping your daughter’s mouth, and -compelling her to put up with the loss. In this case, the whole amount -of notes becomes available; and therefore we will share and share -alike.” - -“Then give me my moiety at once,” said the old woman, with greedy -impatience. - -“No such thing!” ejaculated Rily: “I must have some guarantee that -you act properly in this business; and you can have no hesitation in -putting your trust in me, because you have had a proof of my good -feeling before. I have not forgotten that you saved my life in the -struggle with Vitriol Bob; and the same feeling that made me give -you half the spoil _then_, will prompt me to act with equal fairness -now. You are therefore at liberty to depart when you choose, and to -go where you like: the notes will remain in my possession--and when -you come back to me with the assurance that you have prevented your -daughter from taking any step that may lead to an explosion of the -whole business, your share shall be immediately forthcoming. I have now -put the matter in the proper light; and with such a good understanding, -there can be no quarrelling. As to whether you afterwards choose to -become my broom-stick wife, I must leave it entirely to yourself: for -though I should be as happy as a king in the possession of your old -person and sixty thousand pounds, yet I shall be able to console myself -for your loss by means of the thirty thousand that will remain to me.” - -During this long tirade, all the first portion of which was delivered -in a tone of business-like seriousness, Mrs. Mortimer was hastily -reflecting upon the improvement that had so unexpectedly taken place -in the aspect of her affairs: for she now found herself at liberty to -leave the monster whom she loathed and abhorred, and she had every -chance of regaining and being able to make use of the moiety of the -Bank-notes. - -She accordingly assented to the conditions proposed by the Doctor, -leaving the broom-stick marriage “an open question;” and having settled -her disordered attire, she took her departure--not however before she -had been compelled to submit to another hugging on the part of the -hare-lipped wretch whose caresses were so revolting and intolerable. - - - - -CHAPTER CXCIV. - -MOTHER AND DAUGHTER AGAIN. - - -It was about five o’clock in the evening of the same day on which -these events occurred, that Laura Mortimer and the Count of Carignano, -attended by Rosalie, arrived in London by the South Eastern Railway; -and they immediately repaired to an hotel at the west-end of the town. - -Although the young Italian nobleman had experienced sufficient leisure -for reflection with regard to the step which he was about to take, the -enthusiasm of his passion had not undergone the least abatement: on -the contrary, the more he saw of Laura, and the longer he was in her -company, the more ardently did he burn to make her his wife. - -Nor can this infatuation on his part be a subject of wonder or surprise -with our readers: for when it is remembered that the artful creature -united the most winning ways and captivating manners to the most -transcendent loveliness, and that the Count of Carignano had the warm -Italian blood flowing in his veins,--when, too, it is recollected -that the syren maintained an incessant fire upon his heart with the -artillery of her charms and her fascinations--never permitting the -conversation to droop throughout the journey, and never seeming wearied -of lavishing the tenderest caresses upon her handsome companion,--when -all these circumstances are taken into consideration, it cannot be -a matter of wonderment if the silken chains in which Lorenzo was -ensnared, were completely rivetted. - -There was also this fact which served to strengthen _his_ love and -_her_ power: namely, that she had not invited him to return to her -in Paris--she had not sought to retain him within the sphere of her -influence on the occasion of their first amour--she had not played the -part of a mere adventuress or husband-hunter towards him. No: she had -dismissed him with the understanding that their connexion could not be -renewed--that she could neither become his wife nor his mistress;--and -the young man had of his own accord flown back to her, as a suppliant -for her hand! That she _could_ be an adventuress or a husband-hunter, -never therefore entered his imagination--even if for an instant he -paused to ponder with any degree of seriousness upon her character; and -so far from considering that he was bestowing any favour upon her by -making her the sharer of his wealth and title, he looked upon himself -as the party owing the obligation--he regarded himself as the happy -individual who had the greater reason to rejoice at the connexion. - -On her part, Laura Mortimer was most anxious that the marriage-knot -should be tied as speedily as possible: for she naturally longed to -place beyond all possibility of doubt or disappointment the brilliant -destiny that had suddenly developed itself to her view. Even the -possession of the cheque for sixty thousand pounds was a secondary -consideration, in comparison with her desire to secure that proud title -of Countess which was now within her reach. - -Having partaken of a hasty dinner at the hotel, Laura and her intended -husband repaired without delay to a fashionable house-agent in the -neighbourhood; and it happened that he had upon his list a furnished -villa of which possession might be taken at an hour’s notice. It was -situated in Westbourne Place, Pimlico, and was in perfect readiness -for the reception of occupants. Thither the Count, Laura, and the -house-agent immediately proceeded; and as the villa fully corresponded, -in all its conveniences and appointments, with the description given, -an arrangement was effected upon the spot for the tenancy. - -Laura and the Count returned, however, to the hotel for that night; -and early in the morning they repaired to Doctors’ Commons, where the -young nobleman speedily obtained a special license. Thence, attended -by Rosalie, they drove to a church at no very great distance; and by -eleven o’clock the hands of Laura Mortimer and the Count of Carignano -were united at the altar. - -The incidents of this forenoon had, however, been closely watched by -Mrs. Mortimer. - -The wily old woman, upon quitting the Doctor the day before, had -reasoned thus within herself:-- - -“Laura has captivated a young Italian nobleman _whom she feels she -can love--whom she already loves--and who possesses a proud title and -princely revenues_. Those were the very words which she used when she -communicated her matrimonial intentions to me in Paris. I know her well -enough to be fully convinced that she will not delay a moment after -her return to London, in securing her admirer. A special license must -be the means--and, as her intended husband is a foreigner, Laura will -no doubt accompany him, at least into the neighbourhood of Doctors’ -Commons. Even the presentation of her cheque at the banker’s will -be quite a secondary matter, when compared with the grand object of -securing the coronet which she so much covets!” - -It was in consequence of these reflections that Mrs. Mortimer rose -early in the morning and repaired to the district of Doctors’ Commons, -where it is no difficult matter to become an observer without being -observed, in the maze of narrow streets and little courts forming that -neighbourhood. Nor was she mistaken in her conjecture--neither had she -long to wait. In a short time a carriage--hired from the hotel--made -its appearance, and a handsome young man, with a clear olive complexion -and a glossy moustache, alighted. A lady thrust out her head to give -him a few whispered instructions; and the beauteous countenance was -not so completely shaded by the white bonnet and the veil, but that -Mrs. Mortimer, from the nook where she had concealed herself, could -recognise the features of her daughter. In a short time the handsome -Italian returned, his own countenance glowing with delight; and the -moment he re-entered the vehicle, it drove away. Mrs. Mortimer had -a cab in attendance; and she followed the carriage to within sight -of the church at which it stopped. She then dismissed the cab, and -boldly entered the church, in order to become perfectly convinced that -no unexpected accident should interfere with the marriage ceremony. -Seating herself in a pew at a distance from the altar, she could -behold everything without being observed by those whom she was thus -watching. She saw Laura converse for a few moments with the sexton, who -immediately afterwards hurried away; and in about a quarter of an hour -he returned in company with the clergyman and the clerk. The ceremony -then took place; and when the Count of Carignano was leading Laura back -to the carriage, Rosalie being in close attendance upon them, Mrs. -Mortimer suddenly emerged from the pew. - -For an instant her daughter started and seemed profoundly vexed at -this abrupt and unaccountable appearance of her parent; but in the -next moment she recovered her self-possession, and, assuming a smiling -countenance, said, “I thought you were in Paris; this therefore is an -unexpected pleasure. Permit me, Lorenzo,” she added, turning, towards -her husband, “to present my mother, who has thus accidentally happened -to enter, _for her own devotions_, the very church where our marriage -has taken place.” - -As she uttered these words, Laura glanced with imperious signification -at the old woman, as much as to enjoin her not to undeceive the -Count relative to the accidental nature of this meeting: for the -bride now understood full well that her mother had been watching her -movements--though for what purpose she could not possibly divine. - -“I am delighted to have the honour of an introduction to Mrs. -Mortimer,” said the Count, taking the old woman’s hand: “and I hope -that she approves of the alliance which her daughter has just formed?” - -“Oh! assuredly, my lord,” answered the harridan: “but I regret that I -was not duly invited to be present at the ceremony. However, I am not -the less contented that it should have taken place; and as my stay in -London is very short, your lordship will perhaps excuse me if I crave a -few minutes’ private conversation with my daughter.” - -“You may accompany us to the house which we have taken, mother,” said -Laura: “and my dear Lorenzo will there grant us an opportunity of -discoursing alone----on family matters----for a short time.” - -“Certainly!” exclaimed the nobleman, who was too happy to offer an -objection to anything proposed by his charming wife, and who saw -nothing sinister nor strange in the present scene, unless indeed it -were the sudden and unexpected presence of the mother: but as she had -offered no objection to the match, he did not choose to trouble his own -felicity with any conjecture as to the cause of her abrupt appearance -on the occasion. - -The bride, bridegroom, Mrs. Mortimer, and Rosalie (who had acted as -bridemaid) accordingly entered the carriage, which drove away at a -rapid pace towards Pimlico. - -During the ride the conversation was of that general nature which -settled upon no particular topic, and which therefore needs no detail -here; and on the arrival of the party at the beautiful little villa -in Westbourne Place, Mrs. Mortimer and Laura were speedily closetted -together. - -The moment they were thus alone, Laura’s countenance suddenly changed; -and her features assumed an expression of something more than -sternness--for it was rage--as she said in an imperious tone, “Why have -you been watching my movements?--and how dared you thus to intrude -yourself upon me at such a time and place?” - -“Because it is of the utmost importance that I should confer with -you at once on a subject of deep interest to us both,” replied Mrs. -Mortimer, adopting a voice and manner of such cool insolence as to -convince the shrewd and penetrating Laura that some circumstance had -transpired to enable the old woman to proclaim her independence. - -“And of what nature is that subject?” inquired the young lady, still -treating her mother with a coolness almost amounting to disdain. - -“In one sense, I am completely in your power: in another sense, you -are entirely in mine,” returned Mrs. Mortimer; “and therefore mutual -concessions are necessary to enable us both to enjoy peace, and follow -our own ways unmolested.” - -“You must explain yourself more fully yet,” said Laura, believing the -announcement that _she_ was in her mother’s power to allude to the -secrets which the old woman might reveal relative to the dissoluteness -of her former life. “If you desire me to render you any service,” she -added, after a few moments’ pause, “you should not address me in the -shape of menaces; because you know my disposition well enough to be -fully aware that I am not likely to yield to them, even though my own -interests should suffer by my obstinacy in that respect.” - -“Perhaps you will talk differently in a few minutes,” observed the old -woman. “If we now stand face to face as enemies, it is your own fault.” - -“We will not re-argue all the points involved in that accusation,” said -Laura. “Remember the scene in Suffolk Street--remember also the remarks -which passed between us the other evening in Paris; and then cease to -charge me with the misunderstandings that may have sprung up between -us. You desired to play the despot’s part--I resisted--and in these -few words all our differences are summed up. But I imagine that those -differences were settled, and that an arrangement was made, whereby -you were to dwell apart from me and receive a quarterly stipend of two -hundred pounds. Have you thought better of the business?--or do you -require some other terms?” - -“Yes--I require other terms, indeed,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer: then, -fixing her eyes full upon the countenance of her daughter, she said, “I -am in possession of a secret which would ruin you----” - -“Enough, mother!” ejaculated Laura, her beauteous countenance becoming -scarlet with rage. “I will hear no more--for I understand your menace. -But now listen to _me_! You fancy that I am in your power:--you think -that if you seek my husband and reveal to him all the particulars of my -past life--my amours--my profligacy,--you flatter yourself, I say, that -his love will turn to hatred, and that he will discard me! Now, I dare -you to do your worst--I fear you not! In the first place, you shall not -see my husband again: in the second, you could succeed in working no -change in his sentiments towards me. I would give you the lie to every -word you uttered! He knows that I am not a goddess of purity: but I -should have little difficulty in persuading him that you are magnifying -a comparatively venial frailty into a monstrous dissoluteness. And now, -mother, you may leave me as speedily as you choose--and spare me the -pain of thrusting you from my doors by main force.” - -Sublime and grand in the majesty of her beauty was the -voluptuous--wanton--unprincipled Perdita,--(for on this occasion -we must give her the name which so admirably represents her -character),--as, drawn up to her full height, and with heaving bosom, -flashing eyes, and expanding nostrils, she thus addressed her mother. -Having laid aside her bonnet, shawl, and long white gloves, she -seemed like a Pythoness in her bridal garments; and her manner was as -energetic and awe-inspiring, as her voice was emphatic and determined -in its full silver tones. - -But the old woman lost not her composure: on the contrary, she listened -to her daughter with the calm insolence of one possessing a last -argument the enunciation of which would crush and overwhelm. - -“One word, Laura,” she said, in a voice that commanded the young lady’s -attention: “one word--and then act as you choose. If I ere now adopted -a tone of menace, it was not with the intention of wielding such paltry -and poor weapons as those to which you have alluded. I had not _then_, -and have not _now_, the slightest intention of venting my spite in -petty tittle-tattle relative to your amours: I will not afford you the -chance,” she added, with keen sarcasm, “of using your sophistry for the -purpose of colouring your dissoluteness so as to give it the air of a -mere feminine frailty.” - -“Cease this long preface, and come to the point at once,” said Laura, a -vague fear coming over her, but which she concealed beneath a cold and -rigid expression of countenance: at the same time, she saw full well -that her mother was really possessed of some secret power whereof she -was determined to make the most. - -“My preface is done,” continued Mrs. Mortimer; “and now for the matter -to which it was to lead. You have this day married the Count of -Carignano?” - -“You need scarcely ask that question,” said Laura; “since you have ere -now accompanied us from the church where the ceremony was performed.” - -“And you will henceforth style yourself _Countess of Carignano?_” -proceeded the old woman, still adopting an interrogatory style. - -“Certainly,” responded Laura: “I shall use the title to which marriage -has given me a right. But to what point, may I once more ask, is all -this long discourse to come?” - -“To _this_,” answered the old woman, approaching her daughter and -sinking her voice to a low whisper: “to _this_,” she repeated, her -countenance becoming stern and resolute, while she abruptly stamped her -foot imperiously upon the carpet: “to _this_, Laura--that your marriage -of to-day is no marriage at all--that you consequently have no more -right than I to the title of Countess--and that you have drawn down -upon your head the peril of a prosecution for _bigamy_!” - -An ice-chill came upon the heart of the young lady as these withering -words met her ears: but, by means of an effort so powerful that it was -anguish even to exercise it,--yes, agony thus to restrain her pent-up -rage from finding a vent in a furious outburst,--she preserved an -outward calmness which astonished her mother, who had expected to bring -her down as an abject suppliant upon her knees. - -“You must still explain yourself farther,” said Laura, in a cold tone. - -“What! you affect not to understand me?” exclaimed the old woman. “Or -would you have the insolence to deny that you are already married to -Charles Hatfield?” - -“I do not condescend to a falsehood upon the subject--at least with -_you_,” responded Laura, contemptuously: though internally her -agitation was immense. - -“And yet you _did_ deny it in Paris,” said the old woman. “But I was -aware of the fact at the time--and I cherished the secret, well knowing -that it would serve me some day or another. I little thought, however, -that I should so soon be compelled to make use of it.” - -“And for what purpose have you now proclaimed your knowledge thereof?” -demanded Laura, a gleam of joy lighting up in her soul as she perceived -that her mother was vexed and embarrassed by the calmness with which -her menaces were received. - -“In a word,” resumed the old woman, “we are in the power of each other. -You can transport _me_--and I can transport _you_.” - -“Again must I request you to explain yourself,” said Laura. “You -are evidently fencing with something that you wish, yet fear to -communicate.” - -“I will speak out at once,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer. “The cheque which -the Marquis of Delmour gave me for six hundred pounds, I altered in -such a way as to make it represent sixty thousand; and I yesterday -obtained the amount from the bankers. If you present _your_ cheque, I -shall be ruined; and therefore I propose a compromise.” - -“And by way of opening the negociation, you level menaces at my head,” -said Laura, who, though at first startled by the announcement of the -tremendous fraud perpetrated by her mother, had speedily recovered her -self-possession. - -“What, then, is your decision?” asked the old woman, trembling from -head to foot, and no longer able to conceal the horrible fears that had -come upon her: for she began to fancy that her daughter would not yield -even to the threats that had been used to coerce her. “What is your -decision, I repeat?” - -“To refuse all compromise--to accept the gauntlet which you threw down -at first, and which you would now gladly take back again--to place -myself in a condition of open hostility to you!” answered Laura, her -countenance growing stern and pale, and her lips quivering slightly. - -“But it will be transportation for us both,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer: -“I for forgery--you for bigamy!” - -“Permit me to give you _my_ view of the case,” said Laura. “I hold a -cheque for sixty thousand pounds, which I shall present to-morrow; and -the money must be paid to me. The bankers will be the sufferers by the -forgery--not I, nor the Marquis of Delmour. This disposes of one part -of the question. For the rest, I have only to observe that even if I -were tried and convicted for bigamy, a fortune of sixty thousand pounds -would be no mean consolation during, perhaps, imprisonment for two -years or transportation for seven. I am not, however, so sure that any -prosecution of the kind will take place, be you never so vindictive: -for I question whether you will have the courage to open your lips to -accuse _me_ of bigamy, seeing that it would not only be _forgery_ with -which I should charge you--but _murder!_” - -“Murder!” repeated the old woman, half in indignation and half in -terror: “what mean you?” - -“I mean that Mr. Torrens, your husband, _met with a violent death_,” -answered Laura,--“that you yourself gave me this information--and that -you came over to London to be revenged upon him for his conduct of -former times! Now, mother,” she exclaimed, her countenance suddenly -becoming radiant with triumph,--“_now_ will you dare to repeat your -menaces against me?” - -The old woman staggered back a few paces, and sank into a chair. -The tables had been completely turned against her: she had come to -conquer--and she must depart conquered;--she had sought out Laura in -the hope of reducing her to submission--she was herself now crushed and -overwhelmed. - -There was something shocking in the mortal enmity which had thus -sprung up between the mother and daughter,--the former threatening -transportation--the latter pointing to the gibbet looming in the -distance! - -“But you know--you know, in your own heart, that I did _not_ take the -life of Torrens?” suddenly ejaculated the old woman, starting from her -seat. - -“I know nothing more than what you yourself told me, mother,” said -Laura; “and if the matter should happen to go before the magistrate -for investigation, I shall only state _what I do know_--and shall not -assist your cause with any conjecture relative to your innocence.” - -“And would you send me to the scaffold?” demanded the wretched woman, -her voice becoming plaintive and mournful: “would you place me in such -a position that I must inevitably sink beneath a mass of circumstantial -evidence, and be condemned as a murderess?” - -“Would you send your own child into transportation, the horrors of -which you yourself have experienced?” asked Laura, bitterly. - -“Oh! my God--this is a punishment for all my crimes!” exclaimed the -miserable Mrs. Mortimer, a pang of remorse suddenly shooting through -her heart like a barbed and fiery arrow. - -“You should have calculated all the consequences before you came hither -to menace me,” observed Laura, still in a cold and severe tone--a tone -that was unpitying and merciless. - -“Can nothing move you?” asked the wretched woman, now completely -subdued and cast down--overwhelmed and spirit-broken. - -“Nothing!” responded Laura, sternly. “You may do your worst--I fear you -not; and henceforth I acknowledge you not as my mother!” - -Saturated with crimes--steeped in profligacy as the old woman’s soul -was, nevertheless this sudden renunciation of her by her own daughter -went like a death-pang to her heart. She fell back again into the seat -from which she had started a few minutes previously--a deadly pallor -came over her countenance, rendering it hideous and ghastly as if the -finger of the Destroyer were upon her--and her breath came in long and -difficult sobs. - -But her daughter stood gazing unmoved on this piteous spectacle,--stood -like an avenging goddess, in her white robes, as if about to immolate -her victim upon an altar! - -“Give me a glass of water, Laura--for the love of God, a glass of -water!” gasped the old woman at length, as she extended her arms -piteously towards the relentless being, whose heart, so voluptuously -tender beneath the influence of love, was hard as adamant against the -appeals of her parent. - -“Nothing--no, not even a drop of water, nor a crust of bread shall you -receive beneath my roof,” was the unpitying, remorseless answer. - -“Then my curse be upon you--my curse be upon your dwelling, and all -whom it contains!” cried the old woman, suddenly recovering her own -energy and firmness--for the last words of her daughter had goaded her -to desperation. - -“The curses of fiends turn to blessings,” said Laura, in a calm and -deliberate voice. - -“But a mother’s curse is a terrible--terrible thing!” exclaimed Mrs. -Mortimer, fixing her haggard eyes intently upon her daughter, who -returned the gaze with looks of proud disdain and haughty defiance. - -The old woman then rose slowly from her seat, and as slowly walked -towards the door; on reaching which she turned round, and said, “Is -there no way of restoring peace between us?” - -“None,” was the resolute and laconic answer. - -Mrs. Mortimer hesitated yet for a few moments; then, as if suddenly -embracing a desperate resolve, or struck by some terrible idea of -vengeance, she abruptly quitted the room. - -Laura listened, with suspended breath, to hear whether there was any -one in the hall for her mother to speak to; but her apprehensions on -this head were speedily relieved, and in a few moments the front door -closed behind the old woman. - -The Count of Carignano, who had watched her departure from the -drawing-room window, now hastened to join his lovely wife. - -“The interview has been a long one--and, I fear, not altogether -pleasant, dearest,” he exclaimed, as he clasped Laura in his arms. - -“My mother wished to exercise over me a despotism to which I cannot -yield,” responded the bride. “But wherefore did you conjecture that our -meeting was disagreeable?” - -“Became your countenance is very pale, my love,” answered the Count, in -a voice full of tenderness. “Ah! now it is growing animated--and the -colour of the rose is returning to your lovely cheeks.” - -“Yes,” murmured the fascinating woman, as she wound her snowy arms -about her husband’s neck, “it is because your presence has restored -me to happiness, and banished from my mind the unpleasant impressions -excited by my mother’s behaviour. But we shall see her no more--and -naught can now interfere with our perfect felicity.” - -“This assurance delights me,” answered the Count, gazing with a joyous -admiration upon the splendid creature who had that morning become his -bride. - - - - -CHAPTER CXCV. - -HORRORS. - - -It will be recollected that Mrs. Mortimer was far from being unprovided -with money--her share of the spoil obtained from Torrens still being in -her possession, with the trifling deduction of the few pounds she had -expended in travelling, clothes, and maintenance, during the interval -that had elapsed since the occurrences in Stamford Street. - -The bulk of the amount thus remaining to her had been carefully sewn in -her stays, so that it had altogether escaped the notice of Jack Rily: -and thus the old woman was not destitute of resources. - -But the sum in her possession was a mere trifle when compared with -that which she had hoped to acquire from the forgery; and she now -resolved to leave no stone unturned--no measure unattempted, however -desperate, in order to accomplish her aim. Besides, she longed--she -craved to wreak a terrific vengeance upon her daughter,--yes--upon her -own daughter: for the remorse and the softer feelings which had ere now -found an avenue into her breast, when Laura renounced her, were only -evanescent and short-lived. We have moreover seen that this temporary -weakness was speedily succeeded by the desperation produced by a -terrible resolve to which her mind came as it were all in a moment! - -Impelled by this sinister influence, Mrs. Mortimer lost no time in -repairing to Roupel Street, where she found Jack Rily lolling in a -chair, smoking his pipe and enjoying a quart of half-and-half. - -“Well, my old tiger-cat, what news?” he exclaimed, the moment Mrs. -Mortimer made her appearance. “Have you succeeded with your beautiful -daughter?” - -“Very far from it,” was the answer. “And now,” she added, ere the -Doctor had time to give vent to the oath which rose to his lips through -the vexation of disappointment,--“and now the matter has come to -that extreme point when nothing but a desperate step can prevent the -presentation of the genuine cheque to-morrow.” - -“Are you sure it will not be presented to-day?” demanded Jack Rily. - -“Yes; my daughter said that she should present it _to-morrow_,” -responded Mrs. Mortimer; “and I have every reason to believe that she -will not go near the bank to-day. In fact, she was married this morning -to a young Italian nobleman, whom she loves deeply, and whom she will -not therefore quit, even for an hour, on her wedding-day.” - -“Well, and what do you propose?” asked Jack Rily, fixing upon her a -significant look, which shewed that he already more than half divined -what was passing in her bosom. - -“Are you man enough to risk all--every thing--for the sake of that -thirty thousand pounds which will become your share if we succeed?” -demanded the old woman, returning the look with one of equally ominous -meaning. - -“I am man enough to do any thing for such a sum!” he answered, sinking -his voice to a low whisper, and laying down his pipe--a proof that he -considered the topic of discourse to be growing too serious to permit -any abstraction of the thoughts. - -“Then you understand me?” said Mrs. Mortimer, leaning forward, and -surveying him with a penetration which appeared to read the secrets of -his inmost soul. - -“Yes--I understand you, my tiger-cat,” replied the man; and he drew his -hand significantly across his throat. - -“Well, and will you do it?” she asked. - -“But it is your own daughter,” he observed, shuddering at the atrocity -of the woman’s mind which could calmly contemplate such a fearful deed. - -“She has renounced me,” was the laconic answer. - -“Nevertheless, you are still her mother,” persisted Jack Rily. - -“I discard her--for ever!” responded the horrible old woman. - -“Well--you astounded me at first,” said the Doctor, in a slow tone, as -he reflected profoundly upon the extreme step suggested: “but I can -look at the business with a more steady eye _now_. I always thought -that I was bad enough: but, by God! you beat anything I ever knew in -the shape of wickedness.” - -“Then you refuse--you decline?” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, -interrogatively, while rage convulsed her entire frame--for she dreaded -lest the money should be lost, and Laura escape her vengeance. - -“By Satan!” cried the Doctor; “if you have pluck enough to propose, I -am not the man to refuse to execute the scheme. But how do I know that -when the critical moment comes, remorse won’t seize on you, and you’ll -cry off?” - -“When I have made up my mind to anything, I am not to be deterred -by difficulty--danger--or compunction,” answered the old woman. “I -implored the ungrateful girl to give me a glass of water, when I was -choking--and she refused. What mercy can I have towards her?” - -“None,” responded Jack Rily. “But you must enter into farther -explanations, old tiger-cat: because at present I’m pretty well in the -dark relative to the precise nature of your plans, and the way in which -they are to be executed. It’s now four o’clock in the afternoon--and we -must settle everything without delay, if it’s to be done _to-night_.” - -“It _is_ for to-night,” said the old woman, emphatically. “My daughter -and her husband have taken a house in Pimlico----” - -“How many servants?” demanded Jack Rily. - -“I cannot exactly answer the question: but I know that there is -a French lady’s maid; and I saw an English valet, who had been -recommended by the house-agent----” - -“Never mind who recommended him,” interrupted the Doctor, impatiently; -“he is there--and that’s enough for us. All I care about knowing is how -many people we may have to deal with.” - -“But the venture must be made at any risk,” observed Mrs. Mortimer. “It -is of the highest consequence to us to gain possession of the genuine -cheque----” - -“And put the holder of it out of the way,” added Jack Rily. “Oh! I -understand your drift plainly enough: but I wish to see my course -clear--because I’d better do the best I can with the notes under -existing circumstances, rather than get a bullet through my brain or -find myself laid by the heels in Newgate some time between this and -to-morrow morning.” - -“Certainly--certainly,” remarked Mrs. Mortimer. “Well--upon what do you -decide?” - -“To risk the business,” answered Jack, starting from his seat. “And now -I’ll just go and take a quiet walk down into Pimlico, for the purpose -of surveying the premises. Whereabouts is it?” - -“Westbourne Place, No.----,” replied Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Well--you can meet me again down in that neighbourhood at about -midnight,” said the Doctor. “Where shall the place of appointment be?” - -“In Sloane Square, if you like,” observed the old woman. - -“Good--precisely at midnight. And now be off--because I am going to -hide the Bank-notes so that nobody may be able to find them during -my absence,” said the Doctor, with a meaning look. “Of course I need -hardly tell you that if you are scheming or manœuvring to get me into -a plant down at Pimlico, you’ll never go away alive to make a boast of -it.” - -“The idea that I should act in such a way, is ridiculous,” returned -Mrs. Mortimer. - -“Well--there is no harm in giving you the caution, old tiger-cat,” -remarked the Doctor, carelessly. “So tramp off--and be punctual to our -appointment.” - -“I shall not fail,” said the horrible woman, who thereupon took her -departure. - -How she passed the remainder of that day, we know not. Suffice it to -say that the leisure-time which she had for reflection did not induce -her to change her mind nor swerve from her purpose: on the contrary, -as she entered Sloane Square a few minutes before midnight, it was -with a determination to take her share in the awful tragedy which she -contemplated--namely, the murder of her own daughter and the Count of -Carignano. Bad and depraved as she was, never in her life until this -occasion had she thought so calmly and coolly of shedding blood: for -if on the previous day she had harboured the design of assassinating -Jack Rily, in order to regain possession of the Bank-notes, it was -not without a cold shudder, even though there was something like -aggravation to inspire the idea. But now she had brought herself--or -circumstances had tutored her--to survey with a diabolical tranquillity -the hideous, appalling crime which she had in view; and as she walked -along, she clutched with savage triumph a clasp-knife that she had -purchased during the evening. - -Precisely as the clock struck twelve Jack Rily joined her. - -“Well, you have not altered your mind?” he said. - -“It is rather for me to ask you that question,” was her response. - -“Oh, I am resolute enough!” he observed; and through the semi-obscurity -of the night she could see his large white teeth flashing hideously -between the opening in his lip. “I have taken a good survey of the -premises,” he continued, “and know exactly how to proceed. Have you got -any weapon, old tiger-cat?” - -“This,” she replied, placing the clasp-knife in his hand. - -He opened the blade--felt it--closed it again--and, returning the knife -to his companion, said, “That will do. But there is one thing that -troubles me a little,” he added, after a few moments’ hesitation; “and -I’ll be hanged if I can get it off my mind. Yet--perdition seize it!--I -am no coward either.” - -“What have you to fear, then?” demanded the old woman, hastily. - -“Why, to tell you the truth----but come along farther away from the -lamps----to tell you the truth, as I was jogging quietly down Sloane -Street just now,” continued Rily, glancing furtively around, “some one, -coming hastily up from a narrow street on the right-hand side, passed -just in front of me. We almost ran against each other, and I caught a -glimpse of the fellow’s countenance----” - -“Who was he?” asked Mrs. Mortimer, shuddering in anticipation of the -reply. - -“Vitriol Bob,” was the answer. - -“I thought you were going to say so,” exclaimed the old woman. “But -perhaps he did not notice you--and even if he did, I suppose you are -not afraid that he will attempt any mischief?” - -“Whether he noticed me or not, I can’t say,” replied the Doctor; -“because the encounter was so abrupt--so sudden--that he was off again -in an instant. But if he did, I am well aware that he is capable of -anything. However, I don’t mean to let _that_ prey upon my mind, I can -tell you.” - -“And yet it _does_ seem to have depressed you a little,” said Mrs. -Mortimer. - -“Well--I’d rather it shouldn’t have happened--that’s all!” ejaculated -the ruffian, forcing himself to assume a gaiety which he did not -altogether feel; for, though no coward, yet the incident of his meeting -with his sworn foe in the manner described, had troubled him. - -Doubtless the man’s mind, contemplating a diabolical crime, was more -disposed to superstitious terrors, and to acknowledge the influence of -presentiments, than on ordinary occasions: hence the vague uneasiness -and undefined apprehensions that had seized upon him. - -Mrs. Mortimer caught the dispiriting effects of the encounter which her -confederate had experienced with one of the most desperate ruffians -in London; and such a chill fell upon her mind, that she was about -to propose the abandonment of the scheme, when Jack Rily suddenly -exclaimed, “Well thought of! I’ve something in my pocket that will do -us good!” - -[Illustration] - -With these words he produced a flask of brandy, which he handed to the -old woman, who drank deeply: he then applied it to his own lips, and -drained it of its contents. - -“Now I feel all right again!” he cried, as he restored the empty bottle -to his pocket. “There’s nothing like a drop of the bingo at a crisis of -this nature.” - -“Nothing!” observed Mrs. Mortimer, assentingly: for she likewise felt -all her resolution--or rather hard-heartedness--suddenly revive under -the influence of the alcohol. - -“Now, then, let us proceed to business,” said Jack. “I have got my -own clasp-knife--a darkey[28]--and a small jimmey,”[29] he continued; -“and blowed if it shall be my fault, should we fail in the crack[30] -to-night----” - -“And all that is to follow,” added Mrs. Mortimer, to whom the brandy -had imparted a ferociousness which made her thirst as it were to drink -her own daughter’s blood. - -The two miscreants--male and female--now proceeded in silence; and as -they entered Westbourne Place a lovely moon broke forth from behind a -cloud hitherto dark and menacing. - -“This is the house,” said Mrs. Mortimer, when they came within sight of -the dwelling where Laura and the Count of Carignano were slumbering in -each other’s arms. - -“I know it, old gal,” responded Jack Rily. “We must turn into the lane -that leads down by the side of the premises. Come along--quick--there’s -a person approaching from behind.” - -And, followed by the old woman, he darted into the alley which -separated the Count of Carignano’s abode from the neighbouring row of -houses. - -At the back of the villa there was a small garden, the boundary-wall -of which was of no great height; and the Doctor, in the survey of the -premises which he took during the evening, had made up his mind to -effect an entry in the rear of the building. - -“All is quiet,” he said, in a low whisper to his companion. “I will -climb on to the top of the wall, and then help you up. We will soon -make light work of it.” - -But scarcely were these words uttered, when a dark shadow appeared at -the end of the lane--and in another moment Jack Rily and Mrs. Mortimer -beheld a man hastening towards them. - -The old woman instinctively drew close up to her powerful confederate -for protection, in case mischief should be intended; and scarcely was -this movement effected, when the cause of apprehension was close up to -the spot where she and Rily were standing in the deep shade of the wall. - -At that instant the moon-beams fell fully upon the man’s countenance; -and a cry of horror burst from the lips of Mrs. Mortimer as she -recognised her terrible enemy--Vitriol Bob! Simultaneously with that -cry, an ejaculation of rage escaped from Jack Rily, who, dashing the -old woman away from him, sprang towards the formidable foe. - -But ere the sounds of the cry and the ejaculation had died in the air, -Vitriol Bob, nimbly eluding the attack of the Doctor, raised above his -head _something_ which his right hand grasped; and although the blow -was intended for Jack Rily, it fell with an ominous crash full upon the -countenance of Mrs. Mortimer, who, striving to escape, but bewildered -by terror, was running across the lane, in front of Vitriol Bob, at the -instant. - -Then--O heavens! what a shriek of agony--what a yell of indescribable -anguish broke upon the silence of the night--rending the air with its -piercing sound, and raising echoes of even more horrifying wildness -throughout the neighbourhood. - -Vitriol Bob fled in one direction--Jack Rily in another; and the old -woman was abandoned, alike by friend and foe, to her wretched fate! - -But--see! the lights gleam in the windows of the very villa which -was to have been the scene of a horrible murder: the painful yells, -which still continue to beat the air with their agonising vibrations, -have aroused the Count of Carignano--aroused also the lovely creature -in whose arms he was sleeping. The valet and Rosalie likewise start -from their respective couches; and the young Italian nobleman and the -man-servant, having hastily thrown on some clothing, descend into the -street. - -The cries proceed from the lane: they rush to the spot--and there -upon the ground they behold a female writhing like a stricken snake, -evidently in the most horrible tortures. - -What can it mean? - -They do not wait to ask the question; but, raising the wretched -sufferer from the ground, they bear her into the house--her shrieks and -screams lacerating their ears all the time, and her contortions and -writhings being so powerful that they can scarcely carry her along. - -The neighbours have likewise been alarmed; but none have imitated -the example of the generous young Italian, and descended from -their bed-rooms to afford assistance. They look forth from their -windows--satisfy themselves that aid _is_ at hand--and, believing the -uproar to be created by some poor woman in a fit, close the curtains -and hasten back to bed again. - -In the meantime the Count of Carignano and his valet have borne the -writhing--yelling sufferer into the hall; and Laura descends the stairs -with a candle in her hand. She has thrown on a dressing-gown, and -thrust her naked feet into slippers; and her magnificent hair floats in -messy modulations and luxuriant waves over her fine shoulders and her -ample bosom. - -But scarcely do the rays of the light fall upon the countenance of the -suffering wretch, when the Count of Carignano starts back in horror, -exclaiming, “Merciful God! do my eyes deceive me?--is it possible? -Laura, dearest----” - -“’Tis my mother!” cried the young lady, hastening up to the spot where -the old woman lay writhing and screaming fearfully upon the mat. - -“Ah! that voice!” said the dying Mrs. Mortimer, suddenly desisting -from the outpourings of ineffable agony, as the musical tones of her -daughter fell upon her ears: “Laura--is it indeed you? Come near--give -me your hand--I cannot see you----My God! I am blind--the fiend--the -wretch----Come near, I say----Oh! I am dying--and this is the beginning -of hell----” - -“Mother--mother!” exclaimed Laura, whose heart was touched by -witnessing the appalling pain that writhed the form of the old woman. - -“Forgive me, my child--forgive me,” gasped the dying wretch: “I came -to----But all is growing dark in my mind as well as my eyes----forgive -me, I say--forgive me----Oh! God!” she suddenly shrieked -forth,--“this--_this_ that I feel now must be Death!” - -As these words fell from the old woman’s tongue amidst gasps of agony, -convulsions seized upon her--and she expired in the most shocking -agonies. - - - - -CHAPTER CXCVI. - -RESOLUTIONS. - - -We must now return to Lord William Trevelyan, who, in pursuance of the -promise made to the Marquis of Delmour, proceeded, the moment after -that nobleman had left him, to the villa at Bayswater, which he reached -shortly after mid-day; and he was at once conducted into the presence -of Mrs. Sefton. - -This lady was alone in the parlour; and the young nobleman immediately -perceived that she had been weeping--although she endeavoured to -conceal the fact beneath a smiling countenance as she rose to welcome -him. - -“My dear friend,” she said, in a voice rendered tremulous by -deep emotions; “how can I ever sufficiently thank you for your -generosity--your unparalleled goodness, in adopting such measures to -procure the liberation of Sir Gilbert Heathcote?” - -“You have, then, seen him?” observed Trevelyan. - -“He has but this moment left me,” was the slow and mournful response: -and, after a short pause, Mrs. Sefton said, as she sank back into her -chair, “Our interview was at first a most joyous one--but at the end -most melancholy.” - -“I cannot understand you,” exclaimed Trevelyan, seating himself near -her. - -“Nevertheless, it is not my intention to affect any farther mystery, -with regard to myself or my affairs, towards you,” said Mrs. Sefton, -hastily wiping away the tears that had started to her eyes, and -composing her features with the sudden resolution of one who has -determined upon the particular course which duty suggests. “Your -conduct--the generosity of your disposition--and the attachment which -you experience for my beloved daughter, are all inducements and -reasons wherefore I should at once communicate to you all my plans.” - -She again paused for a few moments, and then continued in the following -manner:-- - -“The dearest hope of my life was accomplished on that day when my -darling Agnes was restored to me: and since we have together occupied -this secluded but delightful spot, I have had leisure to reflect upon -those duties which I owe to my daughter. Moreover, I have well weighed -all the circumstances of her position and my own; and I cannot blind my -eyes to the fact that a great sacrifice must be made on my part to her -reputation--her welfare--her purity of soul.” - -“I begin to understand you now, my dear friend,” said Lord William -Trevelyan, his countenance lighting up with the animation of joy: -for he felt assured that he had not formed a wrong estimate of Mrs. -Sefton’s character, when he attributed to her the most amiable -qualifications and excellent principles, in spite of her connexion with -Sir Gilbert Heathcote. - -“Oh! could you suspect even for an instant that I should permit my own -selfish passion to triumph over my affection for that dear daughter who -has been so miraculously restored to me?” exclaimed Mrs. Sefton. “No, -my lord--no, my esteemed friend--I am not a woman of such a despicable -description! Not an hour has elapsed since, in this very room, I said -to Sir Gilbert Heathcote, ‘_We must separate, my well-beloved--and -perhaps for a long, long time--if not for ever!_’ He understood me--he -appreciated my motives; and he scarcely sought to reason against my -resolution--But, oh! this yielding--this assent on his part, was all -the more generous--all the more praiseworthy--all the more noble!” -cried Mrs. Sefton, in enthusiastic admiration of the absent baronet’s -character: “for I must no longer keep the fact a secret from you, my -dear friend--although I blush to acknowledge it----But you will not -think the worse of Agnes on account of her mother’s crime----” - -“Heaven forbid that I should be so unjust!” ejaculated Trevelyan, in an -impassioned tone of profound sincerity. - -“Thanks for that assurance--a thousand thanks!” exclaimed Mrs. Sefton. -“Yes--she indeed is pure and virtuous; and I would sooner perish by -my own hand than present to her an example of demoralisation in my -own conduct. And it is this same sentiment that animates Sir Gilbert -Heathcote--that has induced him to sacrifice all his own happiness to -her welfare--so that she may never have to think ill of _her mother_! -And now, my dear friend, you can probably conjecture the truth which my -lips scarcely dare frame?--you can perhaps divine wherefore Sir Gilbert -Heathcote is so deeply--so profoundly interested in the welfare of -Agnes?” - -“Yes--I comprehend it all!” cried Trevelyan. - -“And now you must look upon me with loathing--with abhorrence,” -murmured Mrs. Sefton, burying her countenance in her hands: “you must -despise and contemn the adulterous woman who allowed her husband to -exist in the belief that another’s child was his own!” - -“No--no, my dear madam,” exclaimed the young nobleman; “I entertain no -such feelings towards you. I am acquainted with all your history--yes, -all----” - -“All!” she repeated, in a tone of surprise: then, suddenly recollecting -herself, she said, “Oh! true--Sir Gilbert told me that my husband was -to call upon you this morning; and his lordship has therefore given you -_his_ version of our marriage-history.” - -“Indeed, my dear friend,” returned Trevelyan, “he not only corroborated -every thing you had already made known to me, but gave me so many -additional details, all speaking in your favour--or at least in -extenuation----” - -“I am glad that the Marquis does me so much justice,” interrupted Mrs. -Sefton: “heaven knows that I wish him all possible happiness! And that -he _has_ endeavoured to obliterate all recollection of me from his -mind, I am well aware; and in the arms of his mistresses he has sought -relief from any sense of injury or wrong that he may have experienced. -I do not mention this fact for the base and unworthy purpose of -disparaging the man whom I know that I _have_ injured: but it is in -justice to myself----” - -“Ah! my dear lady, let us turn away from this topic as soon as -possible,” interrupted Trevelyan. - -“Cheerfully--most cheerfully!” ejaculated Mrs. Sefton. “We will speak -of Agnes--and of the resolutions which a sense of duty towards her has -engendered on the part of Sir Gilbert and myself. Thus stand all our -relative positions:--Should Sir Gilbert Heathcote become a frequent -visitor at this house, the tongue of scandal would soon find food for -its morbid appetite in this neighbourhood; and the discredit into which -I should fall--the opprobrium heaped upon me, would be reflected upon -my innocent daughter. That is one grave and important consideration. -Another is that, even if the former did not exist, or if Sir Gilbert -merely called occasionally in the light of a friend, it would be -impossible, situated as we are, to avoid little familiarities or marks -of affection, which would inevitably appear strange and extraordinary -to Agnes, and by degrees shock her pure mind. Lastly, your lordship has -honoured her with your attachment--you have demanded of me her hand in -marriage when the suitable time shall arrive;--and in the interval the -guardianship of the treasure which is to become your own, rests with -me. I must fulfil that trust in a manner that will give you no cause -to blush for the wife whom you will have to introduce to the world. It -is known in some few quarters already--it may become generally known -eventually, that the Marquis and Marchioness of Delmour have long -ceased to dwell together: but the actual cause of this separation has -never transpired, and need not. Thus, hitherto, nothing has occurred -to reflect dishonour upon the name of Lady Agnes; and it behoves alike -her mother, and _him who is her real father_, to pursue such a line of -conduct as may be most suitable to the welfare, happiness, and peace of -that beloved child.” - -“I thank you--most cordially, most sincerely do I thank you,” exclaimed -Lord William Trevelyan, “for all the resolutions you have adopted, and -all the assurances you have now given me! Yes--I am indeed interested -in the welfare of your charming daughter; and the generous sacrifices -which yourself and Sir Gilbert have decided upon making, for her -benefit, prove how noble are your hearts!” - -“Nay--now you compliment us too highly,” said Mrs. Sefton, with a -smile. “We have determined upon performing our duty;--and if, by so -doing,” she continued, in a more serious strain, “I can convince you -that the equivocal position in which I have so many years been placed, -has not destroyed the sense of rectitude and the true feelings of a -mother in my breast, I shall yet be able to receive the assurances of -your friendship without a blush, and without experiencing a sense of -shame in your presence.” - -“Look upon me as your intended son-in-law, my excellent friend!” -exclaimed Lord William. “My opinion of you is as high as if I -were ignorant altogether of that equivocal position to which you -allude; and my sentiments towards Sir Gilbert Heathcote are of the -warmest description. For the sake of that daughter whom he dares not -acknowledge as such, he renounces your society--he tears himself away -from you--he abjures the companionship of her whom he has loved so -faithfully for many, many years! This is a self-sacrifice--a generous -devotion which cannot be too deeply appreciated. And now, my dear -friend,” continued the young nobleman, “it is my turn to give certain -explanations. In a word, I have this morning seen your husband, as -you are already aware--and he implored me to become instrumental in -restoring his daughter to his care. To speak candidly, I came hither -for the purpose of reasoning with you on the propriety of yielding to -that desire on his part----” - -“Oh! you would not separate me from my Agnes?” exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, -clasping her hands in an appealing manner, while her countenance -suddenly became pale and expressive of the acute anguish which the bare -idea caused her to experience. - -“No--not after all you have now told me!” cried Trevelyan, in a tone -so emphatic as to be completely re-assuring. “I have such illimitable -confidence in you that it would be an insult,--nay, more--a flagrant -wrong,--to entertain the notion under existing circumstances. I shall -call upon the Marquis of Delmour this evening or to-morrow, and -candidly inform him that I can no longer recommend the separation of -Lady Agnes from her mother.” - -“I return you my sincerest thanks for this proof of confidence which -you give me,” said Mrs. Sefton. “You had not, however, heard all the -resolutions upon which Sir Gilbert and myself have this morning agreed; -and now I have to make known to you a step that is about to be taken, -and which is rendered necessary by the perseverance that the Marquis of -Delmour is certain to exert with a view to regain possession of Agnes. -I propose to take her to France, where we may dwell in some peaceful -seclusion, until the two remaining years of her minority be passed.” - -“And during those two years,” demanded Trevelyan, in a mournful tone, -“am I to be debarred from the pleasure of beholding her whom I love so -well?” - -“I do not attempt to establish any interdiction of the kind,” said -Mrs. Sefton, with a smile. “You will of course be made acquainted with -the place of our abode; and your correspondence or your visits--or -both--will be received with delight.” - -“In this case, I must not offer a single objection to your plan,” -exclaimed Trevelyan, his countenance lighting up again. - -“And had I recommended you neither to visit nor correspond,” said Mrs. -Sefton, in an arch tone of semi-reproach, “should you have opposed our -departure?” - -“Oh! no--no: do not think that I am so selfish!” he cried. “I should -have considered this to be the day of self-devotion for all who are -interested in the welfare of your beautiful--your amiable Agnes. But -I behold her in the garden!” he exclaimed, as he looked towards the -window opening on the lawn at the back of the villa. “Have I your -permission to join her there for a few minutes?” - -Mrs. Sefton signified her assent with a smile and a graceful gesture; -and in a few moments Trevelyan was by the side of the beauteous Agnes -in the garden. - -The young lady was mournful at first--because her mother had already -communicated to her their intended departure for the continent: but -when Trevelyan, turning the discourse upon that topic, gave her to -understand that he had received permission to visit them wheresoever -they might fix their abode, and correspond with them frequently,--when -he even ventured so far as to hint how it was more than probable that -he would follow them to the same place, and establish his own temporary -dwelling there, so as to be able to see them every day,--then was -it that the young maiden’s countenance brightened up, and Trevelyan -gathered therefrom the silent but eloquent assurance that he was not -indifferent to her. - -The few minutes which he had obtained permission to pass with Agnes -grew into hours; and when, between four and five o’clock in the -evening, Mrs. Sefton came herself to announce to the youthful pair in -the garden that dinner was already served up, he uttered an ejaculation -of surprise that it could be so late! Agnes said nothing--but cast -down her eyes, and blushed deeply; and her mother, who knew what love -was and all its symptoms, was now fully convinced that her daughter’s -gentle heart was well disposed towards the noble suitor for her hand. - - - - -CHAPTER CXCVII. - -THE MARQUIS OF DELMOUR. - - -On the following morning, Lord William Trevelyan called upon the -Marquis of Delmour, whom he found pacing his apartment in great -agitation. - -The old nobleman had two sources of annoyance at that moment: the first -was the suspense in which he existed relative to the result of his -endeavours to regain possession of Agnes, whom he devotedly loved;--and -the other was in respect to Laura Mortimer. - -He had heard from his bankers on the previous evening that the cheque -for sixty thousand pounds had been duly presented and cashed; and he -therefore concluded that the young lady had arrived in London. But why -had she not written to him? His impatience to receive a note from her -was in proportion to the madness--the intensity, of that passion with -which her transcendent loveliness and her syren witcheries had inspired -him; and his excited imagination conjured up a thousand reasons for -this silence. He fancied that some accident might have occurred to -her,--or that she had written, and her letter had miscarried; in which -case she herself would be marvelling at his tardiness in repairing -to her,--or that she had changed her mind, and repented of the -promise she had made to become the old man’s mistress. Then jealousy -took possession of his soul; and he could scarcely control within -reasonable bounds the emotions that agitated in his breast. - -The arrival of Trevelyan, however, promised to relieve him of at least -one cause of suspense and anxiety; and, the moment the young nobleman -entered the apartment, the Marquis rushed precipitately forward to meet -him. - -“In pursuance of my promise,” said Lord William, when the usual -compliments were interchanged, “I called upon her ladyship--Mrs. -Sefton, I mean, yesterday--and had a long interview with her.” - -“And the result?” demanded, the Marquis, impatiently. - -“I regret to state that, after all I heard upon the occasion, I cannot -either recommend the withdrawal of Lady Agnes from her mother’s charge, -or interfere any farther in this family matter,” responded the young -nobleman. “Mrs. Sefton will see Sir Gilbert Heathcote no more, and will -devote herself to that maternal care which she is so well qualified to -bestow upon her daughter.” - -“Then, my lord,” exclaimed the Marquis, impetuously, “I shall at once -appeal to the tribunals of my country for that redress which I ought to -have demanded long ago.” - -“Pardon me, my lord,” said Trevelyan, “for reminding you that there is -much to be considered ere you put this threat into execution. By giving -publicity to your unhappy family-affairs, you may to some extent act -injuriously to the welfare of your daughter.” - -“True!” ejaculated the old nobleman, struck by the observation. “And -yet am I to remain quiet and tranquil beneath this additional wrong -which is thus thrust upon me by her who in law is still my wife?” - -“For your daughter’s sake you must endure it--if a wrong it indeed be,” -answered Trevelyan solemnly. - -“And Agnes--has she learnt the secret of her birth?--does she cling to -her mother, in preference to me?--does she devote not a single thought -to the father who has ever behaved with so much tenderness towards -her?” demanded the Marquis. “Reply, my lord, to all these questions.” - -“Your daughter still believes herself to be plain Miss Agnes,” was the -answer; “and she is not taught to forget her father.” - -“But what must she think of the strange circumstance, that while she -believes herself to be the bearer of her father’s name of Vernon, her -mother is known by that of Sefton?” asked the nobleman. - -“She has adopted the latter name, as a natural consequence of her -restoration to the maternal parent,” was the reply; “but her pure and -artless mind cherishes not the curiosity which, in ordinary cases, -would prompt many questions relative to all these points. She imagines, -generally, that particular causes of unhappiness have led to the -separation of her parents, and that the adoption of different names was -the necessary result. For the rest, believe me that she will be well -cared for by her mother, and that she will never be tutored to think of -you otherwise than with respect and gratitude.” - -“Is she happy with her mother--happier than she was in her own cottage, -under my care?” inquired the Marquis, after a long panic, during which -he seemed to reflect deeply. - -“She is happy, my lord,” responded Trevelyan: “but I will not aver that -she is _happier_ than she was. She thinks of you constantly--speaks of -you often----” - -“Then I will do nothing that shall interfere with her -tranquillity--nothing that shall bring into the light of publicity -those circumstances that would give her so much pain,” interrupted -the Marquis, who, though sensual, jealous, and imperious in -disposition,--though addicted to pleasures of a profligate -description,--was nevertheless characterised by many lofty feelings and -generous sentiments, as indeed the whole tenour of his conduct towards -Agnes had fully proven. - -Lord William Trevelyan thanked him for the assurances which he had just -given, and shortly afterwards took his leave, highly rejoiced at the -manner in which the interview had terminated. - -It must be observed that the passion which the Marquis of Delmour -had formed for Laura Mortimer and the hope which he entertained of -speedily possessing her as his mistress, had in a slight degree -diminished the intensity of his anxiety to recover Agnes; inasmuch as -his arrangements in respect to Laura had not only served to occupy his -mind--abstract his thoughts somewhat from the contemplation of the loss -of his daughter--and hold forth the promise of a solace to be derived -from the society of that lovely creature whose unaccountable silence -nevertheless tormented him sadly. - -The day passed--and still no communication arrived. Let it be -remembered it was on this self-same day that Laura and the Count were -married; and it was during the following night that Mrs. Mortimer met -her dreadful death in the manner already described. - -The ensuing morning found the Marquis pale, agitated, and racked by a -thousand anxious fears, amongst which jealousy was often uppermost as -he revolved in his mind all the possible reasons that could account for -the protracted silence of the young lady. - -He sate down to breakfast for form’s sake--but ate nothing. Never did -his gilded saloons appear more desolate--more lonely;--and yet it was -not to them that he had contemplated bringing his beautiful mistress! - -Presently the morning papers were laid upon the table; and mechanically -casting his eyes over one of them, he observed a short article, headed -“DIABOLICAL OUTRAGE AND FRIGHTFUL DEATH.” - -He commenced the perusal of the account; and the apathy with which he -began, speedily changed into the most intense interest: for the article -ran thus:-- - -“Last night, shortly after the hour of twelve, the inhabitants of -Westbourne Place and the immediate neighbourhood were thrown into -the greatest alarm by the sudden outburst of the most dreadful -screaming, as of a female in mortal agonies. These terrific signs -of distress appeared to emanate from a narrow lane, passing by the -side of a beautiful villa in the occupation of the Count and Countess -of Carignano, who, it appears, had been married in the morning, and -had only entered their new abode immediately after the ceremony. -His lordship, attended by his valet, lost no time in descending to -the succour of the afflicted person, whoever it might be; and they -discovered an elderly lady in the agonies of death. They conveyed her -into the villa, where, to the horror of the Count and his lovely -bride, it was found that the dying woman was none other than Mrs. -Mortimer, the mother of the Countess. Medical assistance was promptly -sent for; but before the nearest surgeon could arrive death had -terminated the sufferings of the lamented lady. The horrible nature -of those sufferings can be readily understood, when, on surgical -examination, it transpired that an immense quantity of the strongest -vitriol had been thrown over her; and there were proofs that the bottle -containing the burning fluid had been broken over her head. The affair -is involved in some mystery: but it is presumed that, while repairing -to her daughter’s abode, she must have missed her way and got into -the lane, where some murderous ruffian, undeserving of the name of a -man, perpetrated the frightful outrage. Our readers may remember that -this is not the only case of the terrible use of vitriol which we have -recently been so painfully compelled to record; and, from all we can -learn, there is a monster in human shape, well known to the police, -and bearing the significant though horrible denomination of _Vitriol -Robert_--or more familiarly, _Vitriol Bob_--who has for some time -past infested the metropolis, and who makes use of the burning liquid -as an adjunct to his predatory attacks on the unwary in lone or dark -neighbourhoods. The above are all the particulars which we have been as -yet able to obtain, owing to the advanced period of the night when the -diabolical outrage was perpetrated. - -This narrative, detailed with all the mannerism of an export -penny-a-liner, excited the jealous rage of the Marquis of Delmour -almost to madness. - -The whole thing was as clear as daylight! The Mrs. Mortimer who had -met her death in such a dreadful way, was evidently the old woman -whom he had seen on several occasions; and she _was_, after all, the -mother of Laura! The perfidious Laura herself had become the wife of -another;--and the Marquis was compelled to open his eyes to the fact -that he had been most egregiously duped by an adventuress. - -Hastily summoning his carriage, the Marquis proceeded direct to his -bankers’; where he found that the sixty thousand pounds had indeed been -paid; but, on farther inquiry, he ascertained that an old woman had -presented the cheque. The description of the recipient was then given -by the clerk who cashed the draft; and the Marquis became convinced -that she was none other than Mrs. Mortimer. The bankers perceiving that -he was anxious to learn who had actually obtained the money, produced -the cheque itself, the female’s name being written on the back in token -of acquittal; and there were the words--MARTHA MORTIMER. - -In a mechanical way, and while deliberating what step next to -take, the enraged nobleman cast his eyes over the draft; when he -started convulsively--for he instantly detected the forgery, or -rather alteration, that had been effected: and then, in his furious -excitement, the principal facts of the story came out--showing how he -had been induced to give the cheque. - -All was now amazement and alarm in the bank-parlour; and one of the -partners in the firm suggested the propriety of repairing immediately -to the dwelling of the Count of Carignano, for the purpose of -communicating with the Countess relative to the transaction. But the -Marquis, who by this time had grown somewhat more cool, began to -reflect that any publicity which was given to the matter would only -cover him with ridicule; and as the money was not of such consequence -to him as the avoidance of the shame attendant on the business, he -wisely resolved to hush up the whole affair. - -The bankers were by no means averse to this amicable mode of -adjustment, inasmuch as it relieved them from all doubt or uncertainty, -and all possibility of dispute relative to the party on whom the loss -consequent on the forgery was to fall; and they therefore readily -consented to retain the transaction profoundly secret. At the same -time, they understood fully that they were not to pay the genuine -cheque for sixty thousand pounds, in case of its presentation; the -Marquis resolving to take time to consider what course he should pursue -with regard to that portion of the business. - -The old nobleman drove home again; and, on his arrival at his stately -mansion, he shut himself up in his own chamber to reflect upon the -startling revelations of that day. - -Not for an instant did he entertain the idea of seeking an interview -with Laura. Such a step was useless: for she had no doubt married, he -reasoned, according to her taste. Moreover, his pride revolted at the -bare idea of undergoing the humiliation and shame of being laughed at -by one who would probably care nothing for any reproaches that might be -levelled against her. - -But how was he to recover the cheque? It was valid in her hands: for -even if she had connived at her mother’s forgery, the collusion could -not be brought home to her. Still, the Marquis did not at all admire -the idea of paying another sixty thousand--especially for one who had -so grossly deluded him. - -By degrees the old nobleman’s thoughts became so bewildering that he -felt as if he were going mad. He had lost his daughter--he had lost his -mistress--he had been duped out of his money--and, vile though Laura -evidently was, he nevertheless still adored her image with a devouring -passion. - -He walked up and down his room in a state of excitement that was -increasing cruelly, and that produced a hurry in the brain--a confusion -in the ideas--a delirium in the imagination. - -The fever of his reflections augmented to such a height that he began -to conjure up a variety of evils and annoyances which did not really -exist. He pictured to himself his bankers laughing heartily at his -folly--retelling the scandal as an excellent joke--and propagating -the most offensive rumours all over the town. He fancied that he -beheld his friends and acquaintances endeavouring to conceal their -satirical smiles as they accosted him--he beheld the entire House -of Lords forgetting their dignity and whispering together in a -significant manner as he entered the assembly. Then his thoughts -suddenly travelled to Agnes; and all his ancient doubts and fears -relative to his paternity in respect to her, returned with overpowering -violence; until he felt convinced that she was indeed the offspring of -an adulterous connexion between his wife and Sir Gilbert Heathcote. -Lastly, by a rapid transition, his imagination wandered to the -abode of the Count and Countessa of Carignano; and he pictured the -lovely--seducing--voluptuous Laura in the arms of a rival! - -All these reflections maddened the old man--deprived him of his -reason--rendered him desperate--and made life appear to him a burthen -of anguish and an intolerable misfortune. - -He did not remember his boundless wealth--his proud titles--his -stately mansions--and all the means of pleasure, enjoyment, and -solace that were within his reach: his morbid condition of mind -obtained such a potent sway over him, that he only saw in himself a -lone--desolate--wretched old man,--deprived of his daughter--deprived -of his mistress--deprived of his money--and with the myriad fingers of -scorn pointing towards him. - -Though the sun was shining joyously, and its golden beams penetrated -into the chamber through the opening in the rich drapery,--yet all -seemed dark--dreary--and cheerless to the miserable Marquis of Delmour: -his powerful intellect--his vigorous understanding--his moral courage, -were all subdued--crushed--overwhelmed beneath a weight of trifling -realities and tremendous fancies. - -In this state of mind the miserable man suddenly rushed to his -toilette-case--seized his razor--and inflicted a ghastly wound upon his -throat. - -At the same instant that he fell--the blood pouring forth like a -torrent--a valet entered the room, bearing a letter upon a silver tray. - - - - -CHAPTER CXCVIII. - -CASTELCICALA. - - -Turn we now to the State of Castelcicala--that lovely land which lies -between the northern frontiers of the Neapolitan dominions and the -southern confines of the Papal territory. - -It was a glorious morning--and bright and varied were the hues which -the sea took from the rosy clouds, as a splendid war-steamer advanced -rapidly over the bosom of the waters. - -The Royal Standard of Castelcicala floated from the main-mast; and upon -the deck was a group of officers in magnificent uniforms, gathered -around a young man of tall form and noble air, who was attired in deep -black. But upon his breast a star denoted his sovereign rank; and his -commanding, though unaffected demeanour well became the chieftain of a -mighty State. - -That gallant steamer was the _Torione_, the pride of the Royal Navy of -Castelcicala--that young man was Richard Markham, now become the Grand -Duke of the principality which he had rescued from slavery--and amongst -the aides-de-camp in attendance was his enthusiastic admirer, the -erring but deeply repentant Charles Hatfield. - -Shortly after ten o’clock on this glorious morning the steamer came -within sight of Montoni, the capital of Castelcicala; and as soon -as the Royal Standard was descried by those in that city who were -earnestly watching the arrival of their new monarch, the artillery of -the batteries and the cannon of the ships in the harbour thundered -forth a salute in honour of the illustrious prince. - -In an hour and a half the steamer swept gallantly into the fine port of -Montoni; the yards of all the vessels were manned; and the welkin rang -with enthusiastic shouts of welcome. - -Richard--or, as we should rather call him, Ricardo--was deeply affected -by these demonstrations, which he acknowledged with many graceful bows; -and when he landed amongst the greatest concourse of multitudes ever -assembled on the quays of Montoni, and amidst the most joyous cries -and the thunder of the artillery, he retained his hat in his hand as a -proof of respect to that Sovereign People from whom his power emanated. - -The royal carriages were in attendance; and as he rode along the -streets towards the palace, the vast crowds kept pace with the -vehicles, cheering and waving their hats and handkerchiefs all -the way. The windows and balconies were filled with gentlemen and -elegantly-dressed ladies; and flowers were thrown forth by fair hands -in token of the general delight which attended upon the arrival of the -warrior-prince. - -As on the day after the memorable battle of Montoni, which gave peace -and freedom to Castelcicala, the bells were ringing in every tower, and -the cannon were still vomiting forth their thunder, their fire, and -their smoke, when the Grand Duke Ricardo alighted at the entrance of -the palace. There--upon the marble steps--stood the joy of his heart, -the charming and well-beloved Isabella, with their two children, the -little Prince Alberto and the Princess Eliza--so called after a valued -friend.[31] In company with Isabella were her mother (now Dowager Grand -Duchess), Ricardo’s sister the Princess Katherine, and her husband -Prince Mario. All were dressed in deep mourning: but the presence of -Ricardo evoked smiles as well as tears,--and those who wept for the -loss of the late lamented Grand Duke, found consolation and experienced -a source of ineffable joy in the possession of him who had become his -successor. - -Moreover, the funeral of the departed one had already taken place; and -there was consequently no sad ceremony to be performed which might -revive the bitterness of grief. - -That evening Montoni was brilliantly illuminated; and the streets were -thronged with multitudes who made a general holiday on the occasion of -the arrival of that excellent prince to whom they owed so much. - -And it was a glorious spectacle to behold the appearance of the people -in that capital of the most prosperous country in the whole world. Not -a mendicant was to be seen: the loathsome rags and hideous emblems of -poverty which meet the eye in every thoroughfare and in every corner of -London, had ceased to exist in Montoni. The industrious classes were -all cheerful in looks and neat in attire; and instead of the emaciated -women, and pale, sickly children observable in such appalling numbers -in the British metropolis, the wives of the working-men were all comely -and contented, and their offspring ruddy with the hues of vigorous -health. Oh! it was a blessed--blessed thing to behold those gay and -happy multitudes--rendered thus gay and thus happy by means of good -institutions, honest Ministers, and a Parliament chosen by the entire -male adult population! - -Though the streets were thus thronged to excess, and the houses -of entertainment were crowded, the utmost order, sobriety, and -tranquillity prevailed. There were no police visible: because none -were required. Every citizen, whether employer or employed--whether -capitalist or mechanic--whether gentleman or artizan--whether -landowner or labourer, was himself a policeman, as it were, in his -own good conduct and excellent example. _For from the time that -liberal and enlightened institutions, involving the true spirit of -Republicanism, were applied to Castelcicala, the regular police-force -had been abolished and no necessity arose for its revival._ - -Such was the aspect of the capital of Castelcicala--that model State -where Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality were acknowledged principles, -practically known and duly appreciated. - -On the ensuing morning the Grand Duke Ricardo proceeded to the Chamber -of Deputies, where the Senators were also assembled on the occasion. -The galleries were crowded with ladies and gentlemen; and the whole of -the diplomatic corps were in the seats allotted to them. Even though -all present were in deep mourning for the late sovereign, the aspect of -the spacious hall was far from gloomy, though solemn and imposing. - -The arrival of the new Grand Duke was expected with the most intense -interest. It was well known that not only had he suggested the -principal reforms which Duke Alberto had applied to Castelcicala, but -that he was even far more liberal in his political opinions than his -departed father-in-law. It was consequently anticipated that on the -present occasion he would enunciate the line of policy which it was his -intention to adopt; and every one felt convinced that this would prove -a day memorable in the history of Castelcicala. - -We should observe that on the platform of the Chamber, instead of the -throne being placed for the reception of the Grand Duke, a simple -arm-chair was raised about three feet higher than that occupied by the -President of the Deputies; and instead of the royal standard flowing -with its graceful drapery over-head, the tricolour was suspended to the -wall. These changes, it was well known, had been effected by order of -the Grand Duke himself; and all present were aware that his Sovereign -Highness was not the man merely to displace the symbols of royalty -without having some congenial and practical object in view. - -At half-past ten o’clock the Ministers entered and took their seats -amidst loud applause from the galleries; for this was the same -Cabinet that Ricardo had nominated five years previously, during his -brief Regency; and its policy had been such as to gain for it the -enthusiastic affection of the nation and the admiration of the whole -civilised world. - -Shortly after the arrival of those high functionaries, the Royal Family -appeared in the Chamber, amidst deafening cheers, and took their seats -upon the platform, behind the President’s desk; and in a few minutes -the roar of the artillery on the ramparts announced to the capital that -the Grand Duke had quitted the palace on his way to the legislative -assembly. - -It was precisely at eleven that Ricardo, attended by his staff, entered -the hall; and his presence was the signal for a more hearty renewal -of the cheering, while the ladies in the galleries waved their snowy -handkerchiefs in unfeigned welcome. - -But it was almost immediately noticed that the Grand Duke appeared--not -in the royal robes worn on such occasions by all his predecessors--but -in the uniform of a Field-Marshal, with a black crape round his left -arm in token of mourning for the late monarch. He was decorated only -with the Castelcicalan Order of Knighthood, and did not even wear -upon his breast the star that denoted his sovereign rank. These -circumstances gave a sharper edge to the keenness of curiosity; and -when the cheering, which was loud and long, died away beneath the lofty -roof of the spacious hall, the silence that ensued was deep and solemn -as that of the tomb. - -Then the Grand Duke, rising from the arm-chair which he had for a few -moments occupied, addressed the assembly in the following manner: - -“MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,--You have recently experienced a great and -grievous loss in the death of a wise, enlightened, and virtuous -Sovereign, whose brief but glorious reign was devoted to those measures -best calculated to ensure the happiness, prosperity, and morality of -the Castelcicalan people. The name of Alberto will live in history so -long as the world shall endure; and his memory will be cherished in the -hearts of this and all succeeding generations of the inhabitants of -that clime which his wisdom and his example have so supremely blessed. - -“Had I consulted my own private feelings, I should have allowed some -time to elapse ere I appeared before you to shadow forth that line -of policy which it is my duty to recommend to your deliberations: I -should have craved leisure to weep over the loss of my illustrious -father-in-law, and meditate upon those grand lessons which his -memorable reign have taught us. But I feel that the welfare of an -entire people is too solemnly important and too sacred a thing to be -for even a moment lost sight of; and that when the head of a State is -called away to the tomb, his successor must devote no time to a grief -which cannot recall the departed, but must at once take up without -intermission the grand work of reform that was progressing at the -period of Death’s arrival. For it is a great and flagrant wrong for -those who are entrusted with power, to interpose delays in the proper -exercise thereof; and that man is a traitor to his country and deserves -execration who dares to intimate that there is no need of haste in -accomplishing a great national good. - -“These are the motives which have induced me to appear thus before you -even at so early a period that the remains of my lamented predecessor -can scarcely be said to have grown cold in the tomb: but I repeat that -if men accept the responsibilities of power and office, they must -permit no considerations to retard them in the performance of their -duty and the fulfilment of their high vicarious mission. - -“Last evening I assembled the Ministers around me, and submitted to -them the views which I had some time ago matured, and which I proposed -to put into practice so soon as the natural course of events and the -will of the Sovereign People should place me at the head of affairs. -The Ministers were unanimous in adopting those views, and cheerfully -undertook to lay them in the usual manner before the Legislative -Assemblies. But in the meantime, it behoves me briefly to detail the -nature of these plans which are thus deemed suitable to the interests -and in accordance with the just rights of the Castelcicalans. - -“In the first place I propose that the form of Government shall be -Republican, not merely in institutions, but likewise in name; and in -order that this idea may be fully carried out, it will be necessary -that certain sacrifices should be made in particular quarters. I -now especially allude to the class denominated the _nobility_. The -existence of aristocratic titles is totally incompatible with the -purity and simplicity of Republicanism; and the country therefore -expects from the patriotism of the nobles a ready concession of these -invidious distinctions,--distinctions which are nothing more nor -less than the relics of feudal barbarism. For my part, I cheerfully -undertake to set the example, if example be indeed required to induce -men to the performance of their duty. With this determination I have -come before you to-day,--not as the Grand Duke of Castelcicala--not -as a Sovereign-Prince,--but as the First Magistrate of the State, -retaining only that military rank which I have won upon the fields of -victory. From this moment, then, you may know me, and I wish to be -known only, as General Markham; and this same abnegation of title I -proclaim on the part of my beloved wife, my revered mother-in-law, and -the rest of the Royal Family.” - -[Illustration] - -During several parts of his speech, Ricardo had been frequently -interrupted by outbursts of enthusiastic cheering: but when he reached -this solemn and important climax, the whole assembly rose and greeted -him with the most joyous shouts--the most fervent applause that ever -expressed the unfeigned admiration of a generous patriotism. The ladies -in the galleries absolutely wept in the excitement of their feelings: -for never--never was seen so sublime a spectacle as this of a mighty -Prince casting his crown, his sceptre, and his titles at the feet of -the Goddess of Liberty! - -“I accept with ineffable pleasure this demonstration of approval,” -resumed Ricardo, after a long pause; “and it gave me unspeakable -delight to behold the Peers themselves joining as enthusiastically as -the rest in those evidences of assent. When all titles are abolished, -save those which properly and necessarily belong to the various grades -of naval and military rank, the vanity attending upon the pride of -birth will perish through a deserved inanition, and emulation will -point to the only true aristocracy,--namely, that of VIRTUE and of -MIND. The Ministers will accordingly propose to you such measures as -may tend effectually to establish Republican Institutions in this -State. They will recommend the abolition of the Upper House, and the -retention only of the Chamber of Deputies, which must be numerically -strengthened. They will propose that the Chief Magistrate, to be -denominated _President_, shall be chosen for a period of three years, -and liable to re-election. The power of _veto_, the privilege of making -peace or declaring war, and other attributes purely monarchical, will -not he conceded to the President, but must exist in the Chamber itself; -and instead of the effigy of the ruler upon the current coin, the arms -of the Republic should be impressed. Every public act and deed must -be accomplished in the name of the Sovereign People, the President -serving the purpose of the executive agent, as responsible for his own -conduct as the Ministers themselves are held to be for theirs. These -and other reforms, all tending to the prompt and complete establishment -of pure Republican Institutions, will be at once submitted to your -deliberations. - -“I have not the slightest doubt that the moment the news of all -that is passing within these walls, shall reach the ears of the -other potentates of Italy, remonstrances will be poured in by their -diplomatic agents resident in Montoni;--and perhaps even menaces may be -used. I however feel convinced that no argument which may be adopted -in such remonstrances can possibly blind your eyes to the beauty of -Freedom and the excellence of Liberty: and as for the menaces, I need -only observe that a Castelcicalan army, animated by a republican -spirit, would prove invincible.” - -These words again elicited the most tremendous cheering: and after -another long pause, Ricardo wound up his address in the following -manner:-- - -“All of you who are here present well remember the condition -of the country previously to the accession of the late Grand -Duke. Poverty, and its invariable handmaids--squalor, filth and -demoralisation--presided over the lot of the industrious classes. -Oppression was felt everywhere--happiness existed only in the mansions -of a favoured few. The people were looked upon as the serfs and -slaves of the rich oligarchy; and the very vitals of a healthy state -of society were thus corrupt and rotten. But a change came over the -country: it was decreed that every man should have fair wages for fair -work; and that all able and willing to work, should have work found -for them. In order to accomplish these aims, it was necessary to set -about reclaiming the waste lands in those districts where they lay; -and in others, the owners of estates were by a just law compelled to -throw certain portions of their parks and pleasure-grounds into a -corn cultivation, and to level all their game-preserves for the same -purpose. What have been the results of these measures? Labour has been -abundant, and wages high: employment has extirpated mendicancy; and -squalor, filth, and demoralisation exist no longer within the confines -of Castelcicala. But what would I have you infer from these facts? That -if the people of this country have already so largely and so admirably -profited by liberal institutions,--if the reforms hitherto accomplished -have so materially enhanced the general prosperity, producing -abundance, happiness, and contentment,--who shall be able to divine -to what point that prosperity may arrive, under the pure, simple, and -truly Christian institutions of republicanism.” - -Having thus spoken, with the tone, manner, and eloquence of deep -conviction, General Markham--for so we must now denominate him--bowed -to the assembly, and withdrew amidst applause which was prolonged for -some minutes after he had quitted the spacious hall. - -His wife and illustrious relatives left the platform at the same -time;--and now behold this illustrious family returning to the palace, -attended by the grateful and rejoicing myriads, who, having assembled -round the Chamber, had already received the intelligence of the -memorable proceedings that had taken place within;--proceedings which -in a single hour had accomplished the most effectual and yet utterly -bloodless revolution ever known in any age or in any country! - - - - -CHAPTER CXCIX. - -THE MARCHIONESS OF DELMOUR. - - -The Marquis of Delmour awoke, as it were from a deep trance; and, -opening his languid eyes, he beheld a female form bending over him. He -attempted to speak: but the lady placed one slender finger on her lips -in token of silence;--and, closing his eyes again, the old nobleman -endeavoured to collect his scattered ideas--or rather, to dispel the -mist which hung over them. - -It struck him that the countenance which he had just seen was not -unknown to him;--and as he dwelt upon it in imagination, it gradually -became more familiar,--while, by imperceptible degrees, it awoke -reminiscences of the past--some of pleasure, but most of pain,--until -an idea of the real truth dawned in upon the mind of the Marquis. - -Then again he opened his eyes;--and though long years had elapsed -since last he beheld that countenance, each feature--each lineament -was immediately recognised. But so confused were his thoughts that he -could not recollect why a feeling of aversion and repugnance prevented -him from experiencing joy at the presence of her who was standing, in -painful suspense, by his bed-side. - -At last, as reason asserted her empire, a knowledge of who she was and -all the incidents associated with her revived in his soul; while, at -the same time and with a species of under-current of the reflections, -a feeling of what had happened to himself and why he was stretched -in his couch came slowly upon him. They he suddenly raised his hand -to his throat; and the bandage _there_ convinced him that the last -reminiscence which had just stolen into his mind, was indeed too true! - -Averting his eyes from the mournful and plaintive countenance which was -still bending over him, he groaned aloud in very bitterness:--and then -a deep silence ensued in the chamber. - -Several minutes elapsed, during which the burning tears streamed down -the lady’s face: but she subdued the sobs that almost choked her--for -she would not for worlds permit any evidence of her own deep grief to -disturb the meditations of the enfeebled nobleman. On his side, he -was absorbed in profound thought,--the incidents of the past rapidly -becoming more definite and vivid in his memory, until there were few -things left in uncertainty or doubt--and nothing in oblivion. - -Slowly turning towards the lady, the Marquis saw that she was -overwhelmed with sorrow--although she hastily wiped away her -tears;--and moved--deeply moved by this spectacle, as well as -influenced by a host of tender recollections, the old man extended his -hand towards her, murmuring, “My wife! is it indeed she who is now -watching by my side?” - -“O heaven! he recollects me--he will forgive me!” she exclaimed, in a -tone of the liveliest joy; and carrying her husband’s emaciated hand to -her lips, she covered it with kisses. - -“Sophia,” said the old man, in a low voice and speaking with -difficulty, “we meet after a long--long separation. But let us forget -the past----” - -“Is it possible that _you_ can forget it?” asked Mrs. Sefton--or rather -the Marchioness of Delmour; and bending her burning face over his hand -which she still retained in both her own, she added in a tone so low -that it seemed as if she feared even to hear her own words, “You have -so much to pardon! But I never viewed my conduct in this light until I -came and beheld you stretched upon the bed of--of----” - -“Of death,” said the Marquis, his pale countenance becoming, if -possible, more ghastly pallid still. - -“No--no,” exclaimed the Marchioness, with the excitement of voice and -the gesture of despair; “you must not talk nor think thus despondingly! -But tell me, my husband--tell me--oh! say, can you forgive me for the -past?” - -“We have much to forgive on either side, Sophia,” responded the -Marquis: “and as I was the first cause of dissension between us--as I -indeed was the author of all your unhappiness, by forcing you into a -marriage which you abhorred--’tis for me to demand pardon first. Tell -me, then, Sophia--tell me that you _can_ pardon me for all the misery I -have been the wretched means of heaping upon your head?” - -“Oh! yes--yes!” exclaimed the lady, the tears again pouring in torrents -down her cheeks: “would to heaven that I could prove to you how deeply -sensible I am of this kindness which you now manifest towards me!” - -“Then you forgive me!” cried the nobleman, pressing her hand tenderly, -while joy beamed in his eyes hitherto dim with the glazing influence -of a mortal enervation:--“then you forgive me!” he repeated, his voice -becoming stronger. - -“Yes--oh! yes--a thousand times _yes_!” she exclaimed; and bending over -him, she pressed her lips upon his cold forehead. “But do you pardon me -likewise?” she asked, after a few moments’ pause. - -“It was I who provoked all that has occurred--I who was the unhappy -means of blighting the pure affections of your youth,” returned the -Marquis; “and therefore--whatever may have been the consequences--I am -bound to pardon and forget. Alas! Sophia, often and often--and with -feelings of ineffable pain and anguish--have I thought of that fatal -day when, long years ago, I levelled at you a terrible accusation. But -I was a coward--and I was cruel thus to have taxed you with a fault -which at that period my jealous suspicions alone----” - -“To what do you allude?” demanded the Marchioness, inwardly shocked, -and with her heart bleeding as she asked the question: for she divined -too well to what her husband _did_ allude--and she was almost crushed -with a devouring sense of shame. - -“Oh! if you can have forgotten that fatal day,” exclaimed the Marquis, -whose sight was too dim, and whose mental powers of perception were -too weak to enable him to understand rightly his wife’s present -emotions,--“then are you happy indeed! For, alas! I referred to the day -on which we separated, sixteen or seventeen years ago--I cannot now -remember accurately how many have passed since then----” - -“And why allude to that unhappy epoch?” asked the lady, in a low and -tremulous tone. - -“Because I wish to convince you that I am indeed repentant for all the -share which I took in sealing our misery,” replied the nobleman. “On -that memorable day, I accused you of infidelity towards me--and yet -subsequent reflection has convinced me that you were innocent _then_! -Oh! never--never shall I forget that tone in which you breathed the -fatal words--‘_All is now at an end between you and me! We part--for -ever!_’ I have thought since--aye, and I have said that you resembled -what would be a sculptor’s or an artist’s conception of _Injured -Innocence_; and then, when I adjured you in the name of your infant -daughter to stay, you uttered a wild cry and fled! That cry rings in my -ears now--has vibrated in my brain ever since----” - -“Oh! in the name of heaven, proceed not thus!” murmured the -Marchioness, covering her face with her hands and sobbing bitterly. - -But wherefore, did she thus weep?--wherefore were her emotions so -powerful? Why was her heart thus wrung until every fibre appeared to -be stretched to its utmost power of tension? It was because on the -occasion to which the Marquis referred, _guilt_ and not _innocence_ -had made her voice hollow and thick as she breathed the words which -decreed an eternal separation!--it was because that wild cry had been -wrung from her by the appeal that was made in the name of the infant -child whom she knew to be the offspring of her amour with Sir Gilbert -Heathcote! But there are times when _Conscious Guilt_ so much resembles -_Injured Innocence_, that the most keen observer may be deceived;--and -such was the fact in the case now alluded to. - -A long pause ensued--during which the Marquis, still totally ignorant -of the real nature of his wife’s emotions, gazed upon her with an -affectionate interest that was rapidly growing into a resuscitated love. - -“Weep not, dearest,” he at length said;--“weep not, I implore you!” - -“I weep, because I feel that I am so completely unworthy of your -present kindness,” responded the Marchioness, withdrawing her hands -from her face, and bending her tearful eyes with an expression of such -mournfulness and such profound penitence upon her husband, that had he -the power to raise himself in the bed, he would have snatched her to -his bosom. - -“It is now my turn to implore you not to dwell longer upon the past,” -he said, taking one of her hands and conveying it to his lips. “We -have promised mutual forgiveness. You have pardoned me for forcing you -into a marriage which caused all your unhappiness: and I have pardoned -you for your connexion with Sir Gilbert Heathcote since the period of -our separation. This is the understanding between us, Sophia--and now -we are friends again. But tell me, my dear wife--tell me how long I -have been stretched on this bed, and how you came thus to be here to -minister unto me?” - -“Four days have elapsed since you--since--” began the Marchioness, -hesitating how to allude to the dreadful attempt at suicide which her -husband had committed. - -“Oh! name not the horrible deed!” he groaned forth, writhing in anguish. - -“But it is not known--save to three or four persons,” hastily observed -his wife, well aware that this assurance would prove consolatory. - -“Heaven be thanked!” murmured the old nobleman, clasping his hands -fervently. “And now tell me, my dear Sophia, how you came to learn the -shocking intelligence?” - -“If you will compose yourself as much as you can, and speak but little, -I will explain every thing to you,” she answered, assuming, with -captivating tenderness of tone and manner, the position of wife and -nurse. - -“One word first!” exclaimed the Marquis. “Agnes--” - -“Is here--beneath your roof,” was the reply. - -“My daughter again near me!” he murmured, joy animating his -countenance: but in another moment a cloud overspread his features, as -he said hesitatingly, “Does she know of the dreadful attempt that I -made upon my life?” - -“Heaven forbid!” ejaculated the Marchioness, shocked at the bare idea. -“That circumstance has been religiously withheld from her. She is -however now aware that she is the daughter of the Marquis of Delmour, -and not of plain Mr. Vernon; and she believes you to be dangerously -ill. She has indeed been my companion for hours together by your -bed-side----” - -“Dearest Agnes!” exclaimed the nobleman, with an effusion of tenderness -in his tone. “I will see her presently--when I am more composed,” he -added. “And now give me the promised explanations relative to all I -have asked you.” - -“Listen, then, my dear husband--and do not interrupt me. Yon have -already spoken too much, considering your depressed and enfeebled -state; and Sir John Lascelles, when he calls again, will be angry -with me for permitting you to use such exertions. Oh! you know not -how kind--how attentive he has been! But you will shortly have an -opportunity of thanking him with your own lips--for he will be here in -an hour. Though the room be darkened, it is now about eleven o’clock in -the morning; and he will call at noon. Compose yourself, therefore; and -I will give you all the details you require.” - -The Marchioness arranged her husband’s pillows--kissed his forehead -once more--and then, seating herself by his bed-side, proceeded as -follows:-- - -“That excellent young nobleman, Lord William Trevelyan, called upon me -a few days ago, in consequence of an interview which he had had with -you. It was relative to Agnes. I assured him that Sir Gilbert Heathcote -and myself had come to an understanding that we should see each other -no more; and I likewise informed Lord William that it was my intention -to repair with Agnes to the Continent. But after he had taken his -departure, I reflected profoundly upon the plans I had somewhat too -hastily determined to adopt;--and another project suggested itself. -For you may believe me when I solemnly avow that all my solicitude was -relative to Agnes. Her present happiness and her future welfare in the -world alone occupied my attention. Thus was it that the thought stole -into my mind, of how unfortunate it was for her to be separated from -the father whom she loved so well, and how prejudicial to her interests -the equivocal position of her mother was likely to become. Then I -resolved to see _you_--to throw myself upon your mercy--to implore -forgiveness for the past--and to beseech you that we might all dwell -once again beneath the same roof! For I reflected that as you had shown -so much forbearance in never appealing to the courts of justice to -divorce me legally--and as you had rather manifested every inclination -to envelope in secrecy the causes of our unfortunate differences,--the -conviction gained upon my mind that you were generous enough to be -capable of still farther sacrifices for the sake of Agnes. Oh! you can -comprehend a mother’s solicitude, my dear husband----” - -“Yes--yes: proceed!” exclaimed the Marquis, powerfully affected. - -“Well--animated with the hopes inspired by all these considerations,” -resumed the Marchioness, “I passed the night in meditating upon the -best course to adopt in order to procure an interview with you,--an -interview after so long a separation! At length I determined to pen a -brief note, stating that family affairs of the utmost importance to us -both had induced me to take this step; and a letter to that effect did -I accordingly write on the following morning. But when I had completed -this much of my task, another idea struck me,--which was to become the -personal bearer of my own note. I will now candidly admit that I shrank -from undertaking a task which might appear to you to evince a matchless -audacity and presumption; but when I thought of Agnes, I resolved to -risk any mortification or shame which could possibly be inflicted upon -me.” - -“Oh! no mortification--no shame!” cried the nobleman. “Would to heaven -that you had only come in time to----to----” - -“Hush!” exclaimed the Marchioness, placing her finger upon her lip: -“you promised that you would listen, without exerting yourself to -speak.” - -“Proceed, dearest,” said the Marquis, who all this while had one of his -wife’s hands locked in his own. - -“Summoning all my courage to my aid,” she resumed, “I resolved on -presenting myself at your abode. I arrived--I sent up the letter by -your valet: but in a few minutes he came rushing down the stairs -with a countenance that had horror depicted in every lineament. I -shall not however dwell upon this portion of my adventure. You may -probably conjecture how dreadful was my alarm--how great my grief, -when I learnt from the broken sentences in which the man spoke, the -frightful intelligence of the condition in which he had found you. Then -I revealed to him who I was; and, recovering my presence of mind, bade -him place a seal on his lips with regard to every one save the doctor, -whom I dispatched him to fetch. In a few moments I was with you: I -stanched the blood--I did all that an unassisted and inexperienced -woman could do in such a case. Sir John Lascelles arrived--and the -information he gave me, after inspecting the wound, was reassuring. I -then resolved to remain with you; and I sent the valet to fetch Agnes. -This is all the explanation that I have to give;--unless indeed I -should add that I communicated with Lord William Trevelyan, who, as a -generous friend and as the intended husband of Agnes----” - -“Has he visited this chamber?” asked the old nobleman, hastily. - -“Yes,” was the reply. “Considering that he was alike in your -confidence and in mine, I did not think it either grateful or prudent -to leave him unacquainted with all that had occurred. The secret -therefore rests with him, the good physician, the valet, and myself; -and the household generally believes that you were found in a fit, -which has been followed by a dangerous illness.” - -“My dearest wife,” said the Marquis, after a long pause, “were there -no circumstances which compelled me, as an honest man, to ask _your_ -pardon for the past, in the same way as you have demanded and obtained -my forgiveness,--all that you have now told me would efface from my -memory every thing that it had ever cherished to your prejudice. The -delicacy you have displayed--your generosity--your watchfulness----” - -“Nay--I cannot permit you thus to exert yourself,” interrupted the -Marchioness, placing her hand upon his mouth. - -“But you _must_ permit me to declare how deep is the gratitude that -I experience for your conduct towards me,” he said. “Oh! my beloved -wife--for so I must again call you--I was mad at the time when I laid -violent hands upon myself!” - -“Oh! speak not of _that_!” exclaimed the lady. “My God! was it in -consequence of that last interview which you had with Trevelyan----” - -“No--no,” interrupted the Marquis: “do not blame yourself in any way! -It was _not_ on account of the determination which you had expressed, -and which he explained to me, to retain Agnes in your care. No--alas! a -far less worthy cause----But tell me,” he exclaimed, suddenly checking -himself, as an idea struck him: “has there been any communication made -from my bankers----” - -“Do not harass yourself with matters of business,” said the -Marchioness, in a tone expressive of the deepest solicitude. - -“Nay--if I am to endure the tortures of suspense, I shall never -recover,” exclaimed the nobleman, with strong emphasis. “Besides, I see -by your manner that something _has_ occurred, Sophia----” - -“Well--I will explain every thing,” said the Marchioness; “and then -your mind will be relieved: for I see that it is useless to expect you -to compose yourself while any cause of vexation or excitement exists. -Tranquillise your mind, therefore, relative to the matter which is now -uppermost in your thoughts. Your honour has been duly cared for--no -exposure has given existence to shame or humiliation.” - -“Oh! again--again I thank you, my generous wife,” cried the Marquis. -“But pray give me an explanation of all this!” - -“I will do so without farther preface,” she said. “In the course of the -day following the mournful one whose chief incident made me an inmate -of the house to which I only came in the first instance as a visitor, -the principal partner in the banking firm in the Strand called with -an earnest request to see you immediately. In pursuance of certain -orders which I had given to the servants relative to any visitors who -might come upon business, I was immediately made acquainted with the -banker’s presence; and I hastened to the room where he was waiting. -I assured him that you had been seized with a sudden fit, and were -unable to see any one; and, as I had already made myself known in -the house as your wife, I informed him that I was the Marchioness -of Delmour. He said that it was of the greatest consequence for him -to see you; and I replied that you were insensible to all that was -passing around you. He appeared much annoyed--indeed bewildered by -this announcement; and I conjured him to be candid with me. He then -stated that a forgery had been committed upon the bank, your name -having been already used to procure the sum of sixty thousand pounds; -that the legitimate owner of the cheque had just called to obtain the -cash, and was actually waiting at the bank at that instant; and that -he himself had come to require final instructions from _you_, as the -lady was resolute in enforcing her demand. Pardon me, my husband,” -continued the Marchioness, “if I tell you I suspected that the affair -was one which you would be unwilling to have exposed; and, indeed, on -a little farther conversation with the banker, I heard sufficient to -convince me that such was the fact. I accordingly took it upon myself -to desire him to effect a compromise with the lady in question: but she -being obstinate, he paid the entire amount. This result he subsequently -called to communicate to me; and I hope that you will at least approve -of my motives, if not of the instructions that I gave.” - -“I approve of both,” answered the Marquis; “and I again thank you, -Sophia, for the delicacy which you have exhibited in my behalf.” - -At this moment a knock at the door of the chamber was heard; and Sir -John Lascelles immediately afterwards made his appearance. - -The worthy physician was much delighted at the sudden and unexpected -improvement which had manifested itself in his patient: and, after a -few inquiries of a purely professional nature, he turned towards the -Marchioness, saying, “To her ladyship, my lord, are you indebted for -your life. Her prompt attention and the singular presence of mind -with which she adopted the proper--indeed, the only effectual course, -immediately after the discovery of your alarming condition--saved -your lordship from a speedy death. During the four days and four -nights which have elapsed since the occurrence,” continued Sir John -Lascelles, alluding as delicately as he could to the attempted suicide, -“her ladyship has been constant and unwearied in her attendance at -your bed-side. In order to retain the sad secret within as narrow a -circle as possible, her ladyship would not even permit a nurse to -be engaged;--but, unassisted, she has sustained all the cares--all -the anxieties--and all the fatigues inevitably associated with daily -watchings and long vigils. Pardon me, madam, for speaking thus -enthusiastically; but, throughout my experience, which embraces a -lengthened series of years, I never--never beheld such devotion.” - -“I thank you, doctor,” said the nobleman, “for dwelling with -such emphasis upon conduct as noble as it is generous. Certain -differences--trifling in reality, and all in consequence of faults on -_my_ side,” continued the Marquis, “had long kept us apart. But we are -now reunited, never again to separate until Death shall lay his hand -upon me, Doctor,” added the nobleman, after a short pause,--while the -Marchioness was weeping through deep emotion,--“should you ever hear -any one allude to our protracted separation, I beg--I implore you to -declare, upon the authority of my own avowal, that I alone was the -offending party, and that her ladyship has generously forgiven me every -thing.” - -“I shall not wait to hear people allude to this matter, ere I myself -broach the subject, in order to volunteer that explanation,” said Sir -John Lascelles, who, firmly believing all that the Marquis had uttered, -naturally considered that the most ample justice should be done towards -a lady who had exhibited such a noble devotion to her husband under -such peculiar circumstances. - -When the physician had taken his leave, after prescribing certain -medicines and giving the instructions necessary in the case, -the Marchioness bent over her husband, and with deeply blushing -countenance, said, “If there were anything at all deserving of praise -in my conduct, yours is beyond all commendation: for I have merely -performed a duty--whereas you have proved yourself to be the most -generous of men. Oh! how can I ever sufficiently thank you, my dear -husband, for having thus disarmed scandal of its weapons--thereby -saving my honour even from the faintest breath of suspicion? And in -order to do this, you have taken upon yourself the odium which attaches -itself to the separation of man and wife.” - -“I need--I deserve no thanks,” said the Marquis. “You have saved my -life--you have recalled me to existence: to you am I indebted for -that leisure which, by God’s mercy, may yet be afforded me wherein to -repent of the heinous crime I have committed in laying violent hands -upon myself. Sir John Lascelles goes much into society--he is intimate -in all the first houses at the West End: and he will be careful to -propagate the intelligence which I gave him. You may therefore hold up -your head proudly, Sophia: for _your_ secret is also retained within as -narrow a circle as my own. And now as you have eased my mind on so many -points, let me relieve you from any shadow of uncertainty that may hang -over yours, in respect to the cause of this dreadful deed, the fatal -results of which were averted only by your timely aid. It was through -disappointment in respect to that very lady who presented herself at my -bankers’----” - -“Enough!” exclaimed the Marchioness: “we have already had too many -painful revelations this day,” she added, in a low and affectionate -tone. “If you are now strong enough to see her, I will fetch Agnes to -remain with us for a few minutes.” - -The Marquis joyfully assented; and Sophia, having arranged the collar -of his linen in such a manner that the bandage on the throat could not -be observed, quitted the room. She however almost immediately returned, -followed by her daughter, who was overwhelmed with delight to find him -whom she believed to be her father so much improved. - -But when the Marchioness contemplated the heart-felt joy with which her -husband welcomed Agnes to his arms, she was stricken with remorse at -the deceit she was practising upon him,--permitting him to regard that -beauteous girl as his own offspring! Could she, however, destroy an -illusion which gave him so much delight, and was the source of so much -happiness?--will our readers blame her for cherishing this secret in -her own breast, instead of uselessly destroying the fabric of domestic -peace which had once more been built up in that lordly mansion? - -After this interview with Agnes, the Marquis shortly fell into a deep -and refreshing slumber, which continued until the evening. - -On the following morning he was so much farther improved, that when -Trevelyan called, he insisted upon seeing that good young nobleman, -who was delighted beyond measure to find that such a signal change had -taken place in his condition. - - - - -CHAPTER CC. - -JACK RILY AND THE LAWYER’S CLERK. - - -It was about nine in the evening, and Mr. John Rily, _alias_ the -Doctor, was seated in his chamber at the house in Roupel Street, -smoking his pipe and pondering upon the best mode of disposing of the -Bank-notes that were in his possession. - -He had seen by the newspapers that his late companion, Mrs. Mortimer, -had died from the effects of the terrible punishment inflicted upon her -by Vitriol Bob: but he had not observed any advertisement proclaiming -the notes that had been derived from the forgery;--and the journals -were likewise silent respecting the forgery itself. - -The Doctor accordingly concluded that the fraud remained undetected, -and that the legitimate cheque had not been presented; and as several -days had now elapsed since the notes had found their way into his -possession, he began seriously to meditate how he could convert them -into gold. - -It may seem a singular thing to some that a man having in his -possession sixty thousand pounds’ _worth_, was at a loss for the means -to realise the amount: but such is often the predicament in which -thieves are placed. - -For thus stood the matter in respect to Jack Rily:--If he were to -take a quantity of the notes to the Bank of England, his appearance -might be so much against him as to excite suspicion: for he was not -endowed with vanity sufficient to blind his eyes to the fact that his -outward aspect was of the most villanously hang-dog description it was -possible to conceive. Besides, he was not certain that the notes might -not have been privately stopped. Again, if he applied to the “fences” -and receivers of stolen property with whom he was acquainted, he knew -that they could not cash more than two or three thousand pounds’ -worth of the notes; and in doing even this much, they might mulct him -of one-half the value. Besides, they were only to be trusted by men -in such desperate circumstances as to leave no other alternative: -whereas the Doctor had plenty of gold remaining from his share of -the plunder derived from the adventure in the Haunted Houses. Lastly -in the catalogue of difficulties now enumerated, Jack Rily had heard -from a friend so much of the galleys in France, that he did not at all -relish the idea of repairing to that country and standing the chance -of visiting those places by attempting to pass notes concerning which -private information might have been sent, for any thing he knew to the -contrary, to the various money-changers. - -All these considerations were occupying the Doctor’s thoughts on the -evening alluded to; when his landlord entered to acquaint him that a -gentleman named Green desired to speak to him. - -“Ah! my old school-pal!” ejaculated Rily, joyfully: “show him up by all -means!” - -And during the short interval which elapsed ere the attorney’s clerk -made his appearance, the Doctor placed the brandy-bottle, a couple of -tumblers, and a clean pipe upon the table. - -By the time these preparations were completed, Mr. Green entered -the room, and was received with the familiarity of a long-standing -acquaintance. - -“Well, it is quite an age since I saw you last!” exclaimed the Doctor, -as soon as his visitor was seated. “What have you been doing with -yourself? Still drudging on at old Heathcote’s?” - -“Just the same--or rather worse,” was the reply. - -“I’m sorry to hear that,” observed the Doctor. “Come, help yourself. -But how came you to find me out in my new quarters?” - -“I was passing by here yesterday to serve a writ upon a poor devil in -this street,” answered Mr. Green, “and I twigged you at the window. You -didn’t see me: but I made up my mind to give you a call--and so here I -am.” - -“And I feel devilish glad to see you,” responded Jack Rily. “You may -observe that my circumstances have improved a trifle or so, of late.” - -“Ah! I wish to heaven that _mine_ would show any proof of amendment,” -said Green, with a profound sigh, as he helped himself to a tumbler of -brandy-and-water. “I made a couple of hundred pounds the other day--it -was an affair of giving information about a lunatic-asylum in which -Heathcote had locked up his own brother;--and because I treated myself -to this new suit of clothes,” he added, glancing down at his dress, -“the old villain declared that I must have robbed him to procure the -money. Oh! how I long to be revenged on that man!” - -“Well, I don’t suppose it’s so very difficult,” observed Rily: “at -least I should think, from all you have told me at different times, -that you know enough about him to make him quake in his shoes.” - -“Yes--yes--but--then,” stammered the clerk, with the hesitation of one -who longs to open his heart to another, yet shrinks from the avowal of -a villany even to the ears of a villain. - -“But what?” demanded the Doctor, relighting his pipe. “If you’ve come -to consult me, then out with everything at once. Do nothing by halves, -old fellow--I never do.” - -“Well, you see--the truth is--that--I--I am in the man’s -power--completely in his power,” responded Green: “and now he’s making -my life so wretched--oh! so wretched, that I think of running away -to America with my two hundred pounds. But then I know that he would -move heaven and earth to find me out; he would advertise me--give a -description of my person--swear that I had robbed him, or something -of that kind;--anything, indeed, would he do to revenge himself -upon me. He is one of those despicable characters that cherish the -bitterest--the most fiend-like malignity.” - -“And what is he doing to you now?” demanded Jack, smoking his pipe at -his ease while his friend was thus pouring forth his complaints. - -“What doesn’t he do, you should rather ask me,” exclaimed Green, in -a tone of mingled rage, hate, and despair. “As I just now told you, -he put his brother Sir Gilbert into a lunatic asylum, in the hope -of getting into his own hands the management of all the baronet’s -property--and doubtless in the expectation likewise that grief would -send the unfortunate gentleman to his last home. Well, Sir Gilbert -escaped----” - -“Through your connivance, eh?” interrupted the Doctor, with a knowing -chuckle. - -“Yes--with my connivance,” responded Green; “and it is the suspicion of -this fact that makes Heathcote so intolerable in his conduct towards -me. Besides, seeing me with a new suit of clothes, he swore that if I -had not robbed him I must have been bribed to give information relative -to the place where his brother was confined. It was all in vain that I -reminded him of my salary being quite sufficient to keep me in decent -attire----” - -“Why, don’t you see,” again interrupted the Doctor,--“when once a man -has got a certain suspicion into his head, he won’t very easily part -with it. He cherishes it--feeds upon it--sleeps upon it--dreams of it, -just as a young girl does of her first love.” - -“I suppose that this must be the case,” said Green. “At all events, I -have been made so miserable by Heathcote for the last few days, that -it was like a ray of hope when I saw you at the window of this room -yesterday; and I determined to come and chat with you over the matter.” - -“And yet I don’t see very well how I can assist you, since you declare -that you are completely in Heathcote’s power,” observed Jack Rily. “But -you must tell me every thing.” - -“Well--there’s no use in denying, then, that Heathcote can transport -me if he chooses,” said Green. “Some years ago I--I--committed--a--a -forgery----” - -“Oh! that’s nothing,” exclaimed Jack, assuming a consolatory tone. “But -go on.” - -“Nothing do you call it!” cried the clerk, looking apprehensively -around him, as if he were fearful that the very walls had ears. “In -a month’s time a thousand pounds must be forthcoming--or I shall be -transported. Up to this time Heathcote has all along given me to -understand that he will replace the money for me: but this business -of his brother’s escape and two or three other matters that have gone -wrong with him lately----” - -“I understand you,” said Jack Rily: “they have put the kyebosh upon it.” - -“The what?” demanded Green, unskilled in slang phrases. - -“Put a stopper on the affair, I mean,” explained the Doctor, whom an -idea had struck while his companion was talking; and this idea was -that Mr. Green might be made instrumental in procuring cash for a -considerable portion of the Bank-notes. - -“I am indeed afraid that Heathcote will not assist me,” pursued the -wretched clerk; “and if he does not, I cannot say what will become of -me. In fact there is no use in buoying myself up with the hope that -Heathcote _will_ do any thing for me: he himself has lost money lately -in several ways--and moreover his temper is terribly soured by this -affair about his brother.” - -“Is Sir Gilbert taking steps to punish him, then?” asked Jack. - -“Oh! no--he is too generous and too forgiving in his disposition,” -replied Green: “but he has compelled the two surgeons who signed the -certificate of insanity, to give him a counter-declaration--and indeed -a confession to the effect that they were bribed to sign the document -on the strength of which he was placed in the mad-house. There is -consequently the danger of all this becoming known; and Heathcote, -finding his reputation to be hanging by a thread, has grown as it were -desperate,--not caring what may happen to himself--still less what may -befall _me_.” - -“I should think, then, that if you had a thousand pounds, you would -fancy yourself a very lucky fellow, and be able to defy Heathcote -altogether,” observed Jack Rily. - -“I would give the last ten years of my life to reach such happiness,” -said the clerk. “But it is useless--vain to hope--” - -“Will you give a few hours of your time and a little of your -ingenuity?” demanded the Doctor, now fixing upon him a look full of -deep and mysterious meaning. - -“Do not banter me--do not make a jest of my misfortune,” exclaimed -Green. - -“By Satan! I never was more serious in my life,” returned the Doctor. -“Nay--you may stare at me as you will: but the thousand pounds are -nearer within your reach than you fancy--and you might still keep your -two hundred pounds for your own purposes.” - -“Pray explain yourself!” cried the clerk, not daring to yield to the -hope which suddenly appeared to rise up before him. “Keep me not in -suspense, I conjure you! Can you do anything for me?--can you put me -into the way----” - -“Yes--I can,” answered the Doctor, emphatically. “And now you may as -well tell me candidly that you thought I _might_ be able to assist you, -when you resolved upon calling here. Because, since we were at school -together--which is many long years ago--our paths in life have been so -different, that it is not very likely you would have honoured me by -your company without some pressing motive.” - -“You must at the same time admit that whenever I have met you, I have -always spoken civilly to you--and sometimes stood treat,” added Green, -diffidently. - -“Once or twice,” observed Jack. “But that don’t matter one way or -the other. I asked you a question: and before I open my mind any -farther----” - -“Well--I candidly admit, then,” interrupted Green, wishing to bring the -matter to the point as speedily as possible--“I candidly admit that I -_did_ hope you could help me in some way or another. But it was only -the hope of a desperate man: for as to the idea that you could assist -me to eight hundred or a thousand pounds, it would have been insane to -harbour it even for an instant. To speak more frankly still, I almost -thought of asking you to let me join you in your own way of life, -although I hardly know what your pursuits positively are.” - -“They require courage and firmness, at all events,” answered Jack Rily, -with a coarse laugh; “whereas you have got into such cursed cringing, -bowing, and scraping ways, that you are only fit for a toad-eater. -Excuse me for speaking frankly--but as we are talking on matters of -business----” - -“Quite correct,” interrupted Green, swallowing his resentment: for he -felt but little pleased at the home-truth which had just been told him. -“And now for the information which is to relieve me from such cruel -suspense.” - -“First answer me one or two questions,” said the Doctor. “I suppose you -are often in the habit of changing Bank-notes for your master?” - -“Yes: but not to any considerable amount at a time,” answered Green: -“he is too suspicious to trust me with a sum sufficiently large to -tempt me to run away with it.” - -“Nevertheless, I suppose you could manage to change a few heavy notes, -if you had them?” pursued the Doctor. - -“Heavy notes?” repeated Green, turning pale and trembling. “Are -they--fo--or--ged?” - -“Not they!” exclaimed Rily, half disgusted with his timorous companion. -“They are genuine Bank of England flimsies: but as they didn’t come -into my hands in a very regular manner, and as my appearance isn’t -altogether in my favour, I can’t pass them myself.” - -“Oh! I--I--can get cash for them,” said Green, with all the eagerness -of a man in a desperate predicament. “Heathcote’s bankers would do me -as many as you can possibly have.” - -“I question it,” observed the Doctor, drily. “Would they cash you two -notes for a thousand each?” - -“Yes--yes: assuredly they would,” was the prompt answer. - -“And you must know other places----” - -“Several--several,” interrupted Green, anticipating the remainder -of the questions. “But would it not be shorter to go to the Bank of -England at once?” - -“Well--I think it would,” responded Jack. - -“Unless--unless--there’s any fear--any danger, I mean--I----” - -“Curse upon your fears and dangers!” ejaculated the hare-lipped -villain, savagely: “there are none at all--only, as I just now said, I -can’t go myself. But if you can get ten thousand changed to-morrow, you -may have one thousand for your own purposes.” - -Mr. Green could not find words to express his gratitude in return for -this assurance: he was overwhelmed with a delight which he had not -experienced for years. The thought of emancipating himself from the -thraldom of his despot-master was too brilliant--too dazzling to gaze -upon. He could not believe that there was anything beyond a mere chance -in his favour:--that the matter was a certainty, he dared not imagine. - -But when Jack Rily displayed a few of the notes, and mysteriously -hinted that they were the produce of a forgery which could not possibly -be detected, Mr. Green started from his chair, and actually danced for -joy! - - - - -CHAPTER CCI. - -MR. HEATHCOTE AND HIS CLERK. - - -It was five o’clock in the morning of the day after the interview -described in the last chapter; and Mr. Heathcote was seated at the -writing-table in his private office. - -He was busily occupied with papers;--for his was a disposition that -could not endure idleness. Even when vexed and annoyed--as he was at -present--it was impossible for him to remain inactive. Had he been an -author, he would have eclipsed Walter Scott or Paul de Koek in the -number of his works. - -There was a deep gloom upon his brow and a sinister light in his -restless eyes, as he bent over the parchment-deeds which he was -inspecting; and from time to time he cast an anxious glance towards the -door. - -At length be rang the bell; and the junior clerk answered the summons. - -“Has not Mr. Green made his appearance _yet_?” demanded the lawyer, -with an emphasis on the last word. - -“No, sir--he has not,” was the reply, given timidly--for the young man -beheld both the gloom on the brow and the gleaming in the eye. - -[Illustration] - -“Not yet!” ejaculated Heathcote, fiercely, and frowning in his own -peculiar fashion at the same time. “Nor sent either?” he added, -interrogatively. - -“No, sir,” responded the junior clerk. - -“This is strange--very strange,” murmured the lawyer. “He can’t be -ill--poor devils like him cannot afford to be unwell. But if he -were,--if he _did_ happen to be so indisposed that be couldn’t shut his -eyes to the fact,--he would have sent word. You know where he lives? -demanded Mr. Heathcote, abruptly addressing himself to the young man. - -“Yes, sir,” was the answer. - -“Then go to his lodgings directly,” exclaimed the lawyer, in an -imperious tone; “and if you find him at home, tell him that I am very -angry indeed at his absence. Should he be ill, you must desire him to -get out of bed, take a cab, and come to me at once to give an account -of his conduct. Two guineas a-week, indeed, to a fellow who takes it -into his head to be ill!” - -And with this humane reflection Mr. Heathcote was about to resume his -work, while the young clerk was turning towards the door, when Mr. -Green suddenly made his appearance. - -“Oh! you are come at last, sir--are you?” cried the lawyer, glancing up -at the clock. “A quarter past five--and the office hours are from nine -till six. What the deuce does this mean, sir?” - -“I had a little business to transact, sir,” answered the head clerk, -closing the door by which the junior functionary had just evaporated. - -“A little business!” repeated Mr. Heathcote, staring at the man in -unfeigned amazement: for he could not possibly conceive how Mr. Green -should have any affairs of his own to attend to. - -“Yes, sir--a little business,” returned the head clerk, who, though now -feeling comparatively independent of his master could not shake off -an obsequiousness of manner, which had become habitual to him. “Is it -strange, sir, that for once in a way I should have taken the holiday -which was certain to be refused if solicited beforehand?” - -“Have you been drinking, Mr. Green--or are you mad--to talk to me in -this style?” demanded Heathcote, surveying his clerk with more than -usual attention. - -“I have had nothing to drink, sir, beyond a single glass of sherry--and -I beg to inform you that I am _not_ crazy,” answered the head clerk, -growing a trifle bolder. - -“A glass of sherry!” repeated Heathcote, again evincing the most -unfeigned astonishment. “How is it possible, sir, that you can indulge -in such extravagances and pay for them honestly? A few days ago you -ventured to appear before me in a new suit of clothes, with the gloss -actually on them--whereas your regular office-suit had not been -thread-bare more than two years. Let me tell you, sir, that I take -note of these things: I observe the most minute symptoms of change -in a man’s character or habits; and no one can deceive _me_, Mr. -Green--no one can deceive _me_,” repeated the lawyer, looking hard at -the individual whom he thus addressed, as much as to say that he had -suspected something wrong and was now certain of it. - -“Well, sir--and who has attempted to deceive you?” asked Green, in a -bolder tone than had ever yet characterised his language when in the -presence of his hitherto dreaded master. - -“Who has attempted to deceive me!” vociferated Heathcote, his lips -becoming white and quivering with rage. “You, sir--_you_ have made the -endeavour--you are making it now! But it will not do, Mr. Green--it -will not do. Take care of yourself! New suits of clothes--sherry--a -day’s absence without leave, and even without the humble apology that -should mark your return,--all this is suspicious, sir--very suspicious, -let me tell you.” - -“Suspicious of what?” demanded the head clerk, approaching Mr. -Heathcote’s desk, and looking steadily across it at that gentleman. - -“That you were either bribed in my brother’s affair--or that you have -robbed me,” was the immediate answer. - -“You are a liar, sir--a deliberate liar,” exclaimed Green, now -beginning to experience the first feelings of exultation at the -independence which he was enabled to assert. - -The lawyer could make no reply: he was amazed--bewildered--stupefied! - -“Yes, sir,” continued Green, his voice now losing all its -obsequiousness and his manner rising completely above servility,--“you -are a liar if you say that I robbed you! Where was the chance, even -if I had possessed the inclination, of pilfering even a single -farthing? You know that you reckon up the office-money to the very last -penny--and that if I tell you how a box of lucifers, or a piece of -tape, or any other trifling article was required, you were always sure -to say we were very extravagant in that front-office. These are truths, -sir; and therefore how dare you pretend to believe in the possibility -of my robbing you?” - -“Mr. Green--Mr. Green,” exclaimed Heathcote, absolutely frightened at -his head clerk’s manner: “what is the cause of all this excitement?” - -The lawyer was frightened, we say,--because his conscience told him -that something had occurred to place Mr. Green upon a more independent -footing with regard to him; and the greater became such independence -on the part of one who had long been his tool and instrument, the less -secure was the lawyer himself in his own position. In fact, when a -wretched being who had long grovelled in the dust at his feet, suddenly -started up and dared to look him in the face,--it was a sign that the -fabric of despotism was shaken and was tottering to its fall. Mr. -Heathcote felt all this--and he trembled for a moment,--trembled with -a cold and death-like shudder, as he beheld his clerk’s eyes glaring -savagely at him; and it was under the influence of this sensation that -he uttered the words which, by proving his own weakness, gave Green -additional courage. - -“You ask what is the cause of all this excitement,” exclaimed the -latter: “and yet only a few minutes have elapsed since you dared to -accuse me of having robbed you.” - -“A man who has committed a forgery, may very well be suspected of -theft,” returned Heathcote, who, having recovered his presence of mind, -answered with his usual brutality of manner. - -“And what may you not be accused of, then?” demanded Green, scarcely -able to restrain himself from flying like a tiger-cat at his master: -“for what have you not committed?” - -“By heaven, Mr. Green, this shall last no longer!” ejaculated -Heathcote, starting from his seat: “you are drunk, sir--you have been -drinking, I tell you. Come--be reasonable,” he continued, almost in a -coaxing tone: “go home quietly--and be here early in the morning to -make an apology for your present bad conduct. I promise to forgive you.” - -“Forgive me!” repeated Green:--“forgive me!” he exclaimed again, with a -chuckling laugh which did Mr. Heathcote harm to hear it: “I have done -nothing, sir, that needs forgiveness--and if I was to kick you thrice -round this room where you have tyrannised over me for twelve years, it -would only be paying back a minute portion of all I owe you.” - -“Mr. Green, you will provoke me to do something desperate,” retorted -Heathcote, in a low, thick tone, as he approached his head clerk to -read in that individual’s countenance the solution of his present -enigmatical conduct: “you will provoke me, I say--and then you will be -sorry for your rashness. Consider--reflect--in another month’s time the -thousand pounds must positively be forthcoming----” - -“Will you replace it for me?” demanded Green, abruptly. - -“You know what I have always said----” - -“Yes--and I now know likewise what you have always _meant_,” -interrupted Green, darting a look full of malignant hate and savage -spite at the lawyer. “For twelve long years, sir, I have been your -slave--your vile and abject slave. I was a criminal, it is true, when I -first came to you--for I had committed that forgery which you detected, -and which placed me in your power. But I had still the feelings of a -man--whereas you soon imbued me with such ideas and reduced me to such -a miserable state of servitude, that I have wept bitter, bitter tears -at the thought of my own deep degradation. I could have lied for you--I -could have committed perjury for you--I could have performed all the -meannesses and condescended to do all the vile and low trickery which -form part and parcel of your business:--but when I found myself used -as a mere tool and instrument and treated like a spaniel, without -ever having a single kind word uttered to cheer me beneath a yoke of -crushing despotism----” - -“You have had two guineas a week, paid with scrupulous regularity,” -interposed Heathcote, who, from the tenour of the observations which -Green had just made, began to fancy that he was only excited by liquor -to make vague and general complaints, but that he was still as much in -his power as ever. - -“Two guineas a-week!” repeated the man, indignantly: “you are always -dinning that fact in my ears. But heaven knows that were my salary -six times as much, it would not repay me for all the cruelty I have -endured at your hands--nor for all that one is obliged to _see_ and -_go through_ while in your employment. I had some tender feelings -once: but they have long ago been stifled by the horrible spectacles -of woe and misery which have been forced upon my sight, and which -have sprung from your detestable covetousness. I have seen children -starving--mothers weeping over their dying babes--while the fathers -and husbands have been languishing in gaol,--yes, in the debtor’s gaol -where you have thrown them, and where some of them have died, cursing -the name of James Heathcote! Yes, sir--I have seen all this: and what -is more--aye, and worse, too--far worse--I have been an involuntary -instrument, as your clerk, in causing much of that awful misery, the -mere thought of which almost drives me mad. Talk of the black turpitude -of murdering with a dagger or a pistol!--why, it is a mercy to the -slow--lingering--piece-meal murders which you and men of your stamp -are constantly perpetrating. _For as true as there is a God in heaven, -there are more slow and cold-blooded murders committed in one year by a -certain class of attorneys, than are recorded in the annals of Newgate -for a whole century!_” - -Heathcote’s fears had all returned by rapid degrees as his head clerk, -turning full upon him, levelled at his head the terrible charges summed -up in the preceding speech: but when these last words fell upon his -ear, he grew ghastly pale, and, staggering back a few paces, sank into -his chair,--_for he knew how sternly true was the appalling accusation!_ - -“Ah! well may your eyes glare upon me in horror,” resumed Green: “but -it is high time that you should hear a few home truths--even though -they come from such lips as mine. For you doubtless think that it is -all very fine to issue a writ--refuse delay--decline everything in the -shape of compromise--and then seize upon the goods of your victim, -or clap him into gaol:--but it is we who sit in the outer office--we -clerks, who can best penetrate into the effects of such a heartless -course. When we see the door open, and the miserable wretch come -in with _care_ as legibly written on his countenance as if it were -printed in letters on a piece of paper,--and when he comes crawling -up to our desk, as if _his_ utter self-abasement would be so pleasing -to us clerks as to induce us to say a good word in his behalf to -_you_,--then, when he asks in a tone of anguish which is ready to -burst forth into a flood of tears, ‘_Do you think it likely that Mr. -Heathcote will give me time?_’--it is _then_, I say, that the real -feelings of such poor wretches transpire, and the murderous effects -of the harsh proceedings adopted by lawyers of _your_ stamp become -painfully apparent.” - -“To what is all this to lead, Mr. Green?” demanded Heathcote, in a low -and subdued tone: for it struck him that such a long address could -only be meant to herald some evil tidings, to which his clerk, in -the refinement of vindictive cruelty, sought to impart a more vivid -poignancy by prefatory delays. - -“To what is all this to lead?” repeated Green: “why--to your -utter confusion, black-hearted old man that you are! Think of the -conversation that took place between us a few days ago: did I not then -tell you that there were many deaths to be laid to your door? And I was -right! You sent off Thompson to prison--his wife and child perished, -and he cut his throat:--_you_ are the murderer of those three human -beings! The man Beale, whom you likewise threw into Whitecross Street, -died in the infirmary of that gaol--died of a broken heart, sir;--and -_you_ were his murderer! Hundreds and hundreds of deaths have you -caused in the same way,--_hundreds and hundreds of legal murders!_” - -“Green--Mr. Green!” gasped the lawyer, writhing as if he were a dwarf -in the grasp of a giant: then, wondering why he should thus put up -with the insolence of his clerk, and falling back upon the belief that -the man could not possibly conduct himself in such a way unless he -were under the influence of liquor, he suddenly started from his seat, -exclaiming, “By heaven! sir, you have gone so far that all hope of -forgiveness on my part is impossible.” - -“I care nothing for your pardon--and shall not even condescend to -solicit it,” replied Mr. Green, in a tone of complete and unmistakeable -defiance. “I am going to leave you at once----” - -“Leave me!” ejaculated Heathcote, who had hitherto believed it to be -impossible that his clerk could throw off the chains of servitude -and thraldom which had been so firmly rivetted upon him: “leave me!” -he repeated: “yes--oh! yes,” he added, his countenance assuming an -expression of the most diabolical sardonism;--“yes--you shall indeed -leave me--but it will be to change your quarters for a cell in Newgate!” - -“Perhaps _you_ will be the first to repair thither,” said Green, with -a chuckle that seemed to grate upon the lawyer’s ears like the sound -emitted by the process of sharpening the teeth of a saw. - -“In less than two hours, Mr. Green, Clarence Villiers shall be made -acquainted with the fact that the thousand pounds have long ceased to -be in the Bank of England,” exclaimed Heathcote. - -“The thousand pounds are there, sir--yes, _there_ at this very minute,” -answered Green, in a tone of assurance which convinced Heathcote that -the man was speaking the truth. “And what is more, sir, Mr. Villiers -knows all--and has forgiven all! This morning did I replace the money; -this afternoon did I repair to Brompton to throw myself at the feet -of Mr. Villiers--confess everything--and implore his pardon. Oh! sir, -he is a generous man--and he forgave me. ‘_You have been guilty of a -terrible breach of trust--nay, a heinous crime, Mr. Green_,’ he said; -‘_but you have atoned for your turpitude. It is our duty in this world -to forgive where true contrition is manifested; and I will take care to -hold you harmless in this case, should it ever transpire that the money -had been sold out._’--I wept while I thanked him; and I said, ‘_But -I have a bitter enemy who is acquainted with the whole transaction: -what can be done to save me from disgrace, should he inform against -me?_’--‘_He cannot prove that you forged my name_,’ responded Villiers: -‘_I alone can prove that; and under present circumstances, I would not -for worlds inflict an injury upon you._’ I again thanked him, and took -my leave. You now perceive, Mr. Heathcote, that so far from being in -_your_ power, _you_ are entirely in mine. The other day you told me -that you would crush me as if I were a worm--that you would send me to -Newgate--that you would abandon me to my fate--and that you would even -_help_ to have me shipped for eternal exile. I thank you for all your -kind intentions, sir,” added Green, in a tone of bitter satire; “and -I mean to show my gratitude by exposing you and your villany to the -utmost of my ability.” - -“And what injury can _you_ do me, reptile?” exclaimed Heathcote, -quivering with rage. - -“What injury!” repeated Green: “I can ruin you!” he added, speaking -loudly and triumphantly. “Oh! I am acquainted with far more of your -dark transactions and nefarious schemes than you can possibly imagine. -The deeds that are contained therein,” he added, pointing to the -japanned tin-boxes, “are not sealed books to me. I have read them -all--yes, _all_--and have gleaned enough information to enable me to -bring upon you such a host of ruined and defrauded clients, that you -would never dare to face them even for a moment. Ah! you may turn -pale as death--and your eyes may glare with rage: but it is not the -less true that I hold you in my power. If you destroy those deeds, -you then annihilate the only documents which prove your title to the -vast property which you have accumulated: if you do not destroy them, -you leave in existence the damning evidences of your villany. At this -very moment there are old men and old women struggling on in the -bitterest penury, and cursing the life from which they have not the -moral courage to fly through the medium of suicide,--some of them in -the workhouse--others dependent on the bounty of relatives;--and all -these have been plunged into this appalling misery by _you_! But every -step you took to enmesh and ensnare them--every scheme you devised -to get them completely into your power, so that you might wrench -from them the last acre of their lands and the last guinea of their -fortunes,--all--all has been illegal--fraudulent--extortionate--vile! -Oh! it will alone prove a fine harvest for me, when I again take out -my certificate to practise as an attorney--which I am about to do,--it -will be a splendid commencement, I say, to take up the causes of all -those persons and compel you to render an account to your ruined -clients. This, sir, is what I am about to do: and now it shall be war -between us--war to the very knife,--and ere many months have elapsed, -you will bitterly repent your conduct to one who only asked for a -little kindness in return for his faithful--far too faithful services.” - -Having thus spoken, Mr. Green abruptly quitted the office, leaving -James Heathcote in a state of mind not even to be envied by a criminal -about to ascend the steps of the scaffold. - - - - -CHAPTER CCII. - -JACK RILY AND VITRIOL BOB. - - -Mr. Green had so well managed matters in respect to the Bank-notes, -that in the course of a few hours he had contrived to obtain cash for -about twelve thousand pounds’ worth; and the Doctor was so delighted -at his success, that he had testified his satisfaction by making him a -present of a couple of thousand for himself. - -Being now a rich man, Mr. Rily resolved to quit his lodgings in -Roupel-street and take superior apartments in a better neighbourhood. -Then it struck him, as he was walking leisurely along in the City, -after having parted from Green, that it would be far more agreeable to -become the possessor of a nice little cottage in a pleasant suburb; -and, while this idea was uppermost in his mind, he happened to observe -in the window of a house-agent an announcement to the effect that -“several elegant and desirable villas were to be let on lease or sold, -in the most delightful part of Pentonville.” The Doctor entered the -office, obtained a card to view the premises thus advertised, and, -taking a cab, proceeded straight to the suburb indicated. - -Having nothing particular to do, Jack Rily spent several hours in -inspecting the villas, and at length fixed upon one which he resolved -to purchase. The individual who had built the houses on speculation, -and who was compelled to dispose of one on any terms before he could -possibly finish another, resided close at hand; and a bargain being -speedily concluded, a particular hour on the following day was agreed -upon as the time for a final settlement. - -Jack Rily, having proceeded thus far in his arrangements, entered -a public-house which had lately been built on an eminence within a -quarter of a mile of the New Model Prison; and there he ordered some -dinner--for it was now four o’clock in the afternoon. The repast over, -he took a seat at an open window which commanded a view of Copenhagen -Fields and all the neighbouring district; and with his pipe and some -hot brandy-and-water he was enjoying himself to his heart’s content, -when he was suddenly startled by the appearance of Vitriol Bob, who -happened to pass that way. - -Though a brave, fearless, and desperate man, the Doctor nevertheless -uttered an ejaculation of mingled surprise and annoyance; and his -enemy, who would not have otherwise perceived him, instantly glanced -towards the window. Their looks met--and a diabolical scowl distorted -the countenance of Vitriol Bob,--while Jack Rily, immediately -recovering his presence of mind, surveyed the miscreant with cool -defiance. - -Vitriol Bob appeared to hesitate for a moment what course to pursue: -then, suddenly making up his mind, he entered the public-room where the -Doctor was seated. - -Taking a chair at another table, he rang the bell and ordered some -spirits-and-water, in payment for which he threw down a sovereign, -receiving the change. - -When the waiter had disappeared, and the two villains were alone -together, Vitriol Bob looked maliciously at Jack Rily, as much as to -say, “You see I am not without money;” and then he glanced complacently -at the new suit of black which he had on. - -For a change had taken place in Vitriol Bob’s appearance; and he -seemed to be “in high feather,” as well as his enemy the Doctor. His -huge black whiskers had been trimmed, oiled, and curled--a process -that did not however materially mitigate the hang-dog expression of -his countenance: for his small, reptile eyes still glared ferociously -from beneath his thick, overhanging brows,--his lips were as usual of -a livid hue,--and his broken nose positively appeared more flat on his -face than ever. - -“Your health, Jack,” said the miscreant, nodding with a kind of -malignant familiarity, as he raised the steaming glass to his lips. - -“Thank’ee kindly, Bob,” returned the Doctor, in a tone of mock civility. - -“Now that we have met at last, old feller, we won’t part again in a -hurry,” observed Vitriol Bob after a pause, during which he lighted a -cigar. - -“Just as you choose, my tulip,” said Rily, calmly puffing away and -contemplating the thin blueish vapour which curled lazily from the bowl -of his pipe out of the window. - -“You and I have a score to settle, you know, Jack,” continued Vitriol -Bob; “and it seems as if the Devil had thrown us in each other’s way -this evenin’ on purpose to reggilate our accounts.” - -“Oh! that’s the construction you put upon it, eh?” said the Doctor. -“Well--just as you like.” - -“You know that you used me shameful in that Stamford-street business -t’other day,” proceeded Vitriol Bob. - -“It was only what you deserved for the trick you played me, old -fellow,” retorted the Doctor, but with amazing coolness alike of tone -and manner. - -“I don’t deny that I bilked you out of a part of your reglars in the -matter alluded to,” said Bob: “but it didn’t deserve such a return as -you gived me in the Haunted House. Thank God, I had my revenge on the -old o’oman t’other night.” - -“Yes--she’s disposed of,” observed Jack; “and I can’t forgive you -for it, Bob--even if you wished us to be friends. She was a fine -old creature,--and I had an affection for her, because she was the -ugliest wretch I ever saw in the shape of a woman--and her spirit was -admirable.” - -“I meant the blow for _you_, Jack,” said Vitriol Bob: “but it’s just -as well now that the bottle broke over her, since you and me have met -again.” - -“Have you got another bottle in your pocket, Bob?” demanded the Doctor: -“because if we are to have a tuzzle for it before we part, I may as -well put myself on as equal terms with you as possible.” - -“I shan’t take no unfair advantage, Jack,” was the reply: and, as the -villain thus spoke, he slapped his hands against the skirts of his coat -his breeches’ pockets, and his breast, to convince his antagonist that -he had no bottle about his person. - -“There’s nothing like fair play, Bob,” returned the Doctor; “and -therefore if you like to feel about me to convince yourself that I have -no fire-arms, you’re welcome.” - -“I’ll take your word for it, Jack,” responded Vitriol Bob. “But I -suppose you have got a clasp-knife.” - -“I never go without one,” was the answer: “and it’s as sharp as a -razor.” - -“So is mine,” observed the other miscreant; and then there was a long -pause, during which the two men contemplated each other with a calmness -and serenity that would have prevented even the most acute observer -from noticing the malignant light that gleamed in the depths of their -eyes. - -And while the one continued to puff his pipe in a leisurely manner, the -other smoked his cigar with equal ease; so that they appeared to be -two friends enjoying themselves in a pleasant way in the cool of the -evening. - -“I suppose I interrupted some sport t’other night, Jack,” said -Vitriol Bob, at length breaking the silence. “You and the old o’oman -wasn’t out together at that hour for nothink--particklerly in such a -neighbourhood.” - -“Yes--we were going to do a little business together,” observed the -Doctor. “You first twigged me in Sloane Street. I saw you!” - -“I knowed you did: but you didn’t suspect that I follered you.” - -“Rather,” said Jack Rily. “At least, I thought it very probable.” - -“You’re aweer that the old o’oman’s dead, I suppose?” - -“I said as much just now. ’Twas in the papers,” remarked Jack Rily. - -“Yes--I read it in the _Adwertiser_,” responded Vitriol Bob. - -There was another pause, during which the two miscreants had their -glasses replenished. The Doctor also refilled his pipe, and the other -lighted a second cigar. - -“We’ll make ourselves comfortable, Jack,” said Vitriol Bob, “as long as -you like: and whenever you feel disposed to go, mind that I shall be -arter you.” - -“Well--I can’t prevent _that_,” observed the Doctor, coolly. “You’ve a -right to walk which way you choose in this free country.” - -“Thank’ee for giving me the information,” said Bob, in a satirical -tone. “But of course I mean to stick to you till you’re so wearied of -my company that you _must_ come to a last struggle either to shake me -off altogether, or perish yourself. For, mind, if I catch you asleep, -Jack, I shall stick my clasp-knife into you up to the haft.” - -“I’m obliged to you for letting me know your kind intentions -beforehand,” observed the Doctor: “because I shall adopt precisely the -same mode of warfare.” - -“Now, then, we understand each other,” said Vitriol Bob; “and that’s a -comfort. But it’s a great pity that two such fine fellers as you and -me should be at loggerheads. Howsomever, it can’t be helped--and a -reconcilement, or whatever they call it, is impossible. Your life or -mine, Jack--that’s the question to be decided now.” - -“Depend upon it, old fellow, that you’ll be a croaker before morning,” -returned the Doctor, as he raised his glass to his lips. - -“No--it’s you that’ll be a stiff’un, my boy,” was the pleasant retort. - -“Time must show. Remember that it’s no infant you’ll have to deal with.” - -“I should have beat you that night in the Haunted House, Jack, if the -old o’oman hadn’t come to your assistance,” observed Vitriol Bob, with -a low but diabolical chuckle. - -“Yes--but it was because I slipped over something, old fellow,” was -the answer; “and I shall take care to keep more steady on my pins next -time.” - -“Depend upon it that when the death-struggle _does_ come, Jack, -the fust that slips will be the dead ’un. Did you ever hear of the -Kentuckian fashion of dealing with an enemy?” demanded Vitriol Bob. - -“Never,” was the reply. “But I dare say it’s something damnable--as -bad, perhaps, as breaking a vitriol-bottle over a person’s face--or -else you wouldn’t know anything about it.” - -“You’re right there, Jack: it’s _gouging_ that I mean.” - -“And what’s gouging, pray?” - -“Tearing a fellow’s eye out of its socket,” answered Vitriol Bob. - -“One can play at that game as well as another,” observed the Doctor, -totally unmoved by the horrid nature of the conversation. - -“To be sure: and we shall sooner or later see who beats at it.” - -Another pause succeeded this last remark of Vitriol Bob; and again did -the two men sit contemplating each his enemy with a composure that was -unnatural and dreadful to a degree under the circumstances. - -Time wore on in this manner: their glasses were frequently -replenished--and yet the liquor appeared not to produce the least -effect upon them; but, cool, collected, and self-possessed, they -sate measuring each other’s form and calculating its strength, until -darkness insensibly stole upon them. The waiter then entered to light -the gas; and several frequenters of the house began to drop in to take -their evening’s allowance of alcoholic drink and stupifying tobacco. - -At length Jack Rily rose, and, looking hard at his enemy, said, “I am -going _now_.” - -“Wery well,” returned Vitriol Bob: “I’ll keep you company.” - -There was nothing in these observations to excite either the curiosity -or the suspicions of the other persons in the public-house-parlour: -nevertheless, those words had a terrible significancy for the two men -who had exchanged them. - -The Doctor walked leisurely out of the room first; and Vitriol Bob -followed him. But the instant they were outside the premises, the -former turned abruptly round upon his enemy, saying, “Come, let us -proceed abreast: I don’t mean to give you a chance of stabbing me from -behind.” - -“Just as you like,” observed Vitriol Bob; and he placed himself at the -Doctor’s right hand, leaving an interval of about a couple of feet -between them. - -In this manner they walked on in silence,--each occupied with his own -peculiar reflections. - -Vitriol Bob was intent only on vengeance,--dread, full, complete, and -diabolical vengeance; and, though he seemed to be looking straight -forward, he was nevertheless watching his companion with the sidelong -glances of his reptile-like eyes. - -Jack Rily was calculating in his mind what course he should adopt. -He was naturally as brave as a lion: but he did not perceive any -advantage in risking his life in a struggle that, even were he -victorious, would produce neither profit nor glory. The only possible -good that could result to him from a triumphant issue of the quarrel, -would be the removal of a bitter, inveterate, and determined enemy. -Nevertheless, the Doctor had most potent reasons to induce him to avoid -this deadly encounter. He had just obtained a vast sum of money, and -had the means of realising five times as much: the world, therefore, -had suddenly assumed a smiling aspect in his eyes. He had already -resolved to abandon his nefarious pursuits, which indeed were no longer -necessary--and settle down quietly in the cottage for the purchase of -which he had that day concluded a bargain;--and all these prospects -were to be staked on the hazard of a die--risked fearfully at the -bidding of the miscreant who was walking by his side! - -At one moment the Doctor seriously thought of giving his companion -into charge to the first corps of policemen whom they might encounter; -for this was the hour when the little detachments of constables went -about relieving their comrades on duty. But that idea was abandoned -almost as soon as formed: inasmuch as Jack Rily had all his money about -him, and he knew that if he handed Vitriol Bob over to the police -as the murderer of Torrens or of Mrs. Mortimer, the miscreant would -unhesitatingly turn round with some charge that would at least place -him (the Doctor) in temporary restraint, and lead to an examination of -his person. - -Jack Rily therefore came to the determination of pushing on into -the heart of London, well knowing that Vitriol Bob’s object was not -to assail him in any neighbourhood where the contest was likely to -be observed and prevented, but to drive him by dint of persecution, -dogging, and a hateful companionship, into the open country, where -through very desperation the Doctor should make up his mind to settle -the matter decisively by a struggle on equal terms. Feeling convinced -that this was his enemy’s purpose, Jack Rily resolved either to -weary him out or give him the slip if possible--or else to seize an -opportunity of stabbing him suddenly in some place where an immediate -escape was practicable. - -We must again observe it was through no cowardice that the Doctor was -desirous of avoiding a conflict from which only one could possibly -depart alive: but he had so many inducements to cling to existence, -that he saw no advantage in risking them all in a quarrel where the -personal animosity was entirely on the other side. - -In the course of half an hour they arrived in the vicinity of the Angel -at Islington; and Jack Rily, now breaking the silence which had lasted -since they quitted the public-house at Pentonville, said, “This walking -makes one thirsty: let’s have some beer.” - -“Willingly,” answered Vitriol Bob: “and we’ll drink out of the same pot -to make people believe we’re friends.” - -They accordingly entered a gin-shop and shared a pot of porter at the -bar; after which they resumed their walk, passing down the City Road. -They kept abreast, and preserved a deep silence,--each watching the -movements of the other--the Doctor in the hope of being able to give -his companion a sudden thrust with his knife--and Vitriol Bob for the -purpose of preventing the escape of his enemy. - -It was ten o’clock when they came within sight of the Bank of England; -and as they passed under its solid wall, Jack Rily wondered whether -he should be alive to keep an appointment which he had with Green for -eleven next morning in order to have some more of his notes changed by -that individual. - -“All the money in that there place, old feller, won’t save one or -t’other of us from death before many hours is gone by,” observed -Vitriol Bob, in a low and ferocious tone. - -“You must make the best use of your time, then,” returned Jack; “since -you’ve got a presentiment that it’s so near.” - -“No--it’s you that had better say your prayers,” retorted the -miscreant. “But what’s the use of keeping both your hands in your -pockets? If you think you’ll be able to draw out your knife suddenly -and give me a poke under the ribs, you’re uncommonly mistaken.” - -“I wasn’t dreaming of such a thing,” answered Jack Rily, for the first -time showing a slight degree of confusion in his manner. - -“It’s false, old feller,” said Vitriol Bob: “you’ve got the -clasp-knife open in your pocket--I know you have. The gas-lights is -strong enough about there to enable a sharp-sighted chap, like me, to -twig all that goes on.” - -“It’s you that speaks false,” returned Jack Rily, still keeping his -hands in his pockets. - -And, again relapsing into silence, they pursued their way. - -Passing in front of the Exchange, and up Cornhill, they turned into -Birchin Lane. There Jack Rily hesitated for an instant which way to -proceed: but suddenly recollecting that in a little passage to the left -there was a public-house called the Bengal Arms, he said, “There’s a -crib here where they sell capital ale.” - -“Let’s have some,” cried Vitriol Bob. “You go on fust--the place is too -narrer for us both.” - -“No--you go first,” said the Doctor. - -“In this way then,” responded Vitriol Bob: and stepping nimbly in -front of his companion, he turned round and walked backwards along the -passage until it suddenly grew wider opposite the door of the Bengal -Arms. - -Jack Rily laughed at this manœuvre: but he was in reality -disappointed--for had Vitriol Bob acted with less precaution, he would -have assuredly received the whole length of the Doctor’s formidable -knife in his back, ere he had proceeded half way up the passage. - -“We’ll go into the parlour here,” said Jack, “and have some bread and -cheese. I’m hungry.” - -“So am I,” observed Vitriol Bob, in a dry, laconic tone which -denoted the terrible determination that inspired the man’s mind,--a -determination never to part from his companion until one of them should -be no more! - -There was something awful--something frightfully revolting and -hideously appalling in the circumstance of those two miscreants thus -wandering about together in a manner that appeared amicable enough to -all who beheld them,--two wretches possessing the hearts of fiends and -the external ugliness of monsters,--two incarnate demons capable of any -turpitude, however black the dye! - - - - -CHAPTER CCIII. - -THE BENGAL ARMS.--RENEWED WANDERINGS. - - -The parlour at the Bengal Arms is--or at least was at the time whereof -we are writing--a long, low, dingy room, very dark in the day-time and -indifferently lighted in the evening. It is always filled with a motley -assembly of guests; and ale is the beverage most in request--while to -one who indulges in a cigar, at least ten patronise the unaffected -enjoyment of the clay-pipe. - -On the present occasion the company was numerous: the tobacco-smoke -hung like a dense mist in the place, the gas-burners showing dimly -through the pestiferous haze;--and the heat was intense. - -Jack Rily and Vitriol Bob contrived to find room at one of the tables; -and a slip-shod waiter supplied them in due time with a pot of ale and -bread and cheese, to the discussion of which they addressed themselves -in a manner affording not the slightest suspicion of the deadly enmity -which existed between them. - -While they were thus engaged they had an opportunity of listening to -the conversation that was taking place amongst the other guests. - -“Well, for my part,” said a little, stout, podgy individual, with a -bald head and a round, red, good-humoured countenance, “I have always -been taught to look on the City institootions as the blessedest things -ever inwented.” - -“And I maintain that they’re the foulest abuses in the universe,” -exclaimed a tall, thin, sallow-faced individual, striking the table -with his clenched fist as he spoke. “Why should everything east of -Temple Bar be different from everything west?” he demanded, looking -sternly round upon the company as if to defy any one to answer -his questions. “Why should it be necessary to have barristers as -magistrates in Westminster, and fat stupid old Aldermen in the -City?--why should the ridiculous ostentation, useless trappings, -and preposterous display of the Mayoralty be maintained for so -miserably small a fraction of the great metropolis? Talk of your City -Institutions, indeed!--they are either the most awful nonsense that -ever made grown up persons look more absurd than little boys playing -with paper cocked-hats and wooden swords--or else they are rottenness -and corruption. When the Municipal Corporations were reformed in 1835, -why was the City of London omitted! Did not Lord John Russell then -pledge himself _most solemnly and sacredly_ to bring in a separate bill -for the London Corporation?--and has this promise, almost amounting to -a vow, ever been fulfilled? No: and why? Because every Government, one -after another, is afraid to lose the political support of this precious -Corporation. And to these selfish considerations is sacrificed every -principle of justice, propriety, and common sense. Look at the rascally -extravagance and vile profusion which characterise the Corporation. -The parish of St. Marylebone, with its hundred and forty thousand -inhabitants, only expends _a hundred and twenty-eight thousand pounds_ -for those parochial purposes which cost the City, with a population of -ten thousand less than the other, nearly _a million_! The difference is -that Marylebone is governed by an intelligent vestry--whereas London is -under a stupid Corporation! Look, again, at the iniquities perpetrated -by the Aldermen in their capacity as licensing magistrates--the gross -partiality that they show towards some publicans, and the inveterate -hostility they manifest towards others. The _rights of the freemen_ -are a scandal and a shame--many able mechanics and other operatives -being frequently driven from the City on account of their inability -to pay the money for taking up their freedom.[32] Then again, look at -the preposterous power which the Lord Mayor enjoys of stopping up all -the thoroughfares and impeding business in every shape and way, on any -occasion when it may suit him and his bloated, guzzling, purse-proud -adherents to pass in their gingerbread coaches through the City. Is -this consistent with British freedom?--is it compatible with the rights -or interests of the citizens? Faugh!” - -And the speaker resumed his pipe, in deep disgust at the abuses which -he had thus succinctly, but most truly enumerated. - -“Well, I don’t know--but I like all our old institutions,” said -the bald-headed man, with the stolid obstinacy and contemptible -narrow-mindedness which so frequently characterise the John Bullism of -a certain class. “The wisdom of our ancestors----” - -“The wisdom of the devil!” ejaculated the tall, sallow-faced individual -who had held forth on the City abuses. “That is a fool’s reason for -admiring established and inveterate corruption. The wisdom of our -ancestors, indeed! Why--those ancestors believed in the divine right of -Kings, and were sincere in praying on the 30th of January as if Charles -the First was really a Martyr instead of a Traitor. Our ancestors, too, -put faith in witches--aye, and burnt them also! It was our ancestors -who kindled the fires in Smithfield where persons suffered at the -stake; and our ancestors advocated the most blood-thirsty code of -laws in Europe, in virtue of which men were strung up by dozens at a -time at the Old Bailey. Our ancestors prosecuted writers for their -political and religious opinions, and seemed to take a delight in -everything that gratified the inhuman ambition of Kings and Queens, to -the prejudice of real freedom. Our ancestors, in fact, were the most -ignorant--besotted--bloody-minded miscreants that ever disgraced God’s -earth; and any man who turns an adoring glance upon the deeds of those -ruffians, deserves to be hooted out of all decent society.” - -Having thus delivered his sentiments on the subject, the sallow-faced -individual was about to resume his pipe, when, another idea occurring -to him, he suddenly burst forth again in the following terms:-- - -“But who are those people that generalise so inanely when they speak -of the wisdom of our ancestors? They are persons who inherit all -the old, wretched, and worn-out prejudices of their forefathers, -without having the intellect or the courage to think for themselves. -They are the statesmen who gladly fall back upon any argument in -order to defend the monstrous abuses of our institutions against the -enlightening influence of reform. They are the churchmen who are -deeply interested in preserving the loaves and fishes of which their -ancestors in the hierarchy plundered the nation. They are, in fact, all -those individuals who have anything to lose by wholesome innovation, -and everything to gain by the maintenance of a system so thoroughly -rotten, corrupt, and loathsome that it infects and demoralizes every -grade of society. The Peer eulogises the wisdom of his ancestors, -because they handed down to him usurped privileges and an hereditary -rank the principle of which is a crying shame. The Member of the House -of Commons speaks of the wisdom of his ancestors, because he holds -his seat through the frightful corruption introduced by them into the -electoral system. The placeman talks of the wisdom of his ancestors, -because they invented sinecures and distributed with the lavish hand -of robbers the gold which they wrung from the marrow and the sinew -of the industrious millions. The parson praises the wisdom of his -ancestors, because they invented the atrocious system of allowing a -rector to enjoy five thousand a-year for doing nothing, and paying his -curate ninety pounds a-year for doing everything. The lawyer praises -the wisdom of his ancestors, because they devised such myriads of -insane, stupid, unjust, rascally, and contradictory enactments, that a -man cannot move hand or foot even in the most trivial and common sense -affairs, without the intervention of an attorney: and wherever that -common sense does exist on one side, law is almost sure to be on the -other; in the same way that wherever justice _is_, there law _is not_. -For my part, I do firmly believe that there is not a more wretched and -oppressed country in all the world than England--nor a more duped, -deceived, gulled, and humbugged people on the face of the earth than -the English. Talk of freedom, indeed: why, almost every institution you -have is in favour of the rich and against the poor!” - -“I can’t say that I see it,” observed the bald-pated man, in the -usually dogmatic tone of confirmed obstinacy and unmitigated ignorance. - -“Then you must be blind!” ejaculated the other, his emphasis indicating -sovereign contempt for the individual whom he addressed. “Look at -the Game Laws: are they made for the rich or for the poor? Are not -thousands of miserable creatures thrown into gaols for daring to kill -a hare or a pheasant, because, forsooth! it interferes with the sport -of the ‘squire? Do not the rich ride when out hunting through the -corn-fields of their tenants?--and what redress can the latter obtain? -Then, again, look at the state of the law generally. What chance has -a poor man of bringing a wealthy oppressor to justice?--who can go to -Westminster Hall without a pocket full of gold? Why, the very Railway -Companies make it a boast that by means of capital they can ruin--aye, -and break the heart of any poor antagonist in a law-court, let his -cause be ever so just! Look, too, at the privileges enjoyed by the -landowners: what proportion of the taxes do they bear in comparison -with the industrious, toiling, starving peasantry or mechanics on -those estates? Look at the condition of our taxation: are not all the -necessaries of life subjected to frightful imposts, while the luxuries -are comparatively cheap to the favoured few who can obtain them? What -is the proportion between the duty on a poor man’s horse and cart and -a rich man’s carriage and four?--what the proportion between the poor -man’s beer and spirits and the rich man’s foreign wines? Again, if -a scion of the aristocracy wants money, he is provided with a good -place if not an absolute sinecure; whereas the poor man is sent to -die a lingering and degraded death in that awful gaol denominated a -work-house. Look at the combination of capital against labour. If -capitalists and monopolists lower wages, there is no redress save by -means of _a strike_ on the part of the workmen; and _a strike_ is -looked upon as something akin to rebellion against the Sovereign. In -every way is the law in favour of the rich--in every way is it grinding -and oppressive to the poor.” - -A profound silence followed these observations: for every one present, -save the bald-pated man, perceived their truth and recognized their -justice,--and even _he_ had not impudence enough to venture a denial -which he could not sustain by argument. - -“What we require, then,” resumed the sallow-faced individual, at length -breaking the long pause, “is an entire reform,--a radical reform, and -not a measure bearing the name without any of the reality. I love -my country and my countrymen as well as any British subject: but it -makes my heart bleed to witness the misery which exists throughout the -sphere of our industrious population;--and it makes my blood boil to -think that nothing is done to remedy the crying evils and reform the -tremendous abuses which I have this night enumerated.” - -[Illustration] - -The discourse was now taken up by several other individuals present, -the bald-headed gentleman declining to pursue it farther; and the -sallow-faced guest fearlessly and ably dissected the whole social and -governmental system, concluding with an emphatic declaration that the -community should agitate morally, but unweariedly, for those reforms -which were so much needed. - -It was twelve o’clock when Jack Rily and Vitriol Bob issued from the -Bengal Arms; and passing through George Yard, they entered Lombard -Street. - -Thence they proceeded towards London Bridge, over which they walked in -a leisurely manner--side by side--watching each other--and maintaining -a profound silence. - -Down the Blackfriars’ Road they went; and on reaching the obelisk in -St. George’s Fields, the Doctor paused for a few minutes to make up his -mind what course to pursue. - -He was already wearied--and a mental irritation was growing upon him in -spite of his characteristic recklessness and indifference: he required -rest--and he knew that he could obtain none so long as his terrible -enemy was by his side. - -“Perhaps I may weary him out,” thought the Doctor to himself: “or -if I lead him into the open country I shall perhaps be able to give -him the slip. Otherwise we must fight it out in some place where no -interruption need be dreaded.” - -Influenced by these ideas, Jack Rily resumed his wanderings, Vitriol -Bob still remaining by his side like the ghost of some murdered victim. - -They proceeded towards the Elephant and Castle; and on reaching that -celebrated tavern, they once more refreshed themselves with beer, as -the establishment was still open in consequence of some parochial -entertainment that was given there on that particular evening. - -On issuing from the house, the two men proceeded along the Kent Road. - -Nearly an hour had now elapsed since they had last exchanged a word; -for the feeling of desperate irritation was growing stronger and -stronger on the part of Jack Rily--while Vitriol Bob was becoming -impatient of this delay in the gratification of his implacable -vengeance. - -But delight filled the soul of the latter when he found that his -companion was taking a direction that led into the open country; and, -breaking the long silence which had prevailed, he said tauntingly, “You -are getting tired, Jack.” - -“Not a bit,” replied the Doctor, assuming a cheerful tone. - -“Oh! yes--you are, old feller,” exclaimed Vitriol Bob: “you drag your -feet along as if you was.” - -“I could walk all night without being wearied so much as you are now,” -returned the Doctor: and, thus speaking, he mended his pace. - -“I never felt less tired than I am at present, Jack,” said Vitriol Bob: -“but you are failing in spite of this pretended briskness. You can’t -keep it up.” - -“You shall see,” answered the Doctor, his irritation augmenting -fearfully. - -Vitriol Bob made no further observation upon the subject; and the two -miscreants walked on, side by side, until they reached the Green Man at -Blackheath. - -There was no tavern--no beer-shop open; and both were thirsty, alike -with fatigue and the workings of evil passions. - -Seating himself upon a bench fixed against the wall of a public-house, -Jack Rily could not help gnashing his teeth with rage; and as he -maintained his looks fixed upon the countenance of his enemy, his eyes -glared with a savage and ferocious malignity. The moon-light enabled -Vitriol Bob to catch the full significancy of that expression which -distorted the Doctor’s features; and, sitting down close by his side, -he said, “You are growing desperate now, Jack: I knowed I should -disturb your coolness and composure before long.” - -“By God! you’re right, my man!” ejaculated the Doctor, unable to -restrain his irritation. “I had no enmity against you at first--I would -have shaken hands with you and been as good friends as ever--aye, -and have given you more money than you’ve ever yet seen in all your -life,--given it to you as a present! But now I hate and detest you--I -loathe and abhor you! Damnation! I could stick my knife into you this -very minute!” - -“Two can play at that game,” returned Vitriol Bob, savagely. “But -remember that we’re talking tolerably loud just underneath the windows -of this ’ere public; and I don’t feel at all inclined to be baulked of -the satisfaction----” - -“Of a last and desperate struggle, eh?” exclaimed the Doctor, starting -up. “Well--we will not delay it much longer. Come along:--it is pretty -near time that this child’s play was put an end to--I am getting sick -of it.” - -“Bless ye, I’ve no such excitement,” said Vitriol Bob, rising from -the bench and again placing himself by the side of his companion: “I -rayther like it than anythink else. We’ve had a nice walk--plenty of -refreshments--and now and then a cozie little bit of chat--besides the -advantage of hearing them political sermons in at the Bengal Arms: and -so I don’t think you can say we’ve spent the time wery disagreeably.” - -All this was said to irritate the Doctor still more; for Vitriol Bob, -well acquainted with the disposition of his enemy, knew that when once -he was thus excited it was impossible for him to regain his composure. - -Jack Rily made no answer--but continued his way in silence, weariness -gaining upon his body as rapidly as bitter ferocity was acquiring a -more potent influence over his mind. - - - - -CHAPTER CCIV. - -THE CATASTROPHE. - - -It was two o’clock in the morning when the Doctor and Vitriol Bob -ascended Shooter’s Hill. - -Both were much fatigued--but the former far more so than the latter. - -The moon rode high in the heavens, which were spangled with thousands -of stars; and every feature of the scene was brought out into strong -relief by the pure silvery light that filled the air. - -The countenance of Jack Rily was ghastly pale and hideous to gaze -upon--his large teeth gleaming through the opening in his upper lip, -and his eyes glaring like those of a wild beast about to spring -upon its prey;--whereas the features of Vitriol Bob denoted a -stern--dogged--ferocious determination. - -Having reached the top of the hill, the two men paused as if by mutual -though tacit consent; and glancing rapidly along the road in each -direction, they neither saw nor heard anything that threatened to -interfere with the deadly purpose on which they were now both intent. - -No sound of vehicles met their ears--no human forms dotted the long -highway which, with its white dust, had the appearance of a river -traversing the dark plains. - -“Well--are you pretty nearly tired out, Jack?” demanded Vitriol Bob. - -“I am as fresh as ever,” answered the Doctor. - -“But you’re afraid, old feller,” exclaimed the other. - -“Not afraid of _you_!” retorted Jack Rily, contemptuously. - -“You would have run away if you could,” said his enemy. - -“You are a liar, Bob,” was the savage response. - -“No--it’s you that tells the lie, Jack. I’ve watched you narrerly--and -I could see all that was a-passing in your mind as plain as if it was a -book.” - -“But you can’t read a book, Bob, when you have it open before you.” - -“There you’re wrong, Doctor: I’ve had my hedication as well as you.” - -“And a pretty use you’ve made of it! But I don’t see any use in our -standing palavering here: I want to get back to London--and so the -sooner you let me polish you off, the better.” - -“I’m as anxious to come to the scratch as you. Where shall it be?” - -“In the field close by, Bob. We may be interrupted in the road.” - -“And yet there’s nothink and no one to be seen.” - -“Never mind. We’ll make as sure as possible,” observed the Doctor, who -throughout this rapid and laconic colloquy had endeavoured to appear as -collected and as composed as possible: but his words had hissed through -his teeth--for his mouth was as parched as if he had been swallowing -the dry dust of the road. - -“Let’s over the hedge, then,” said Vitriol Bob. - -The two men accordingly made their way into the adjoining field; and -having proceeded to a short distance down the sloping meadow, they -suddenly stopped short and confronted each other. - -“Shall it be here?” demanded Vitriol Bob. - -“Yes,” responded Jack Rily; and drawing his clasp-knife, which was -already open, from his pocket, he sprang with a savage howl upon his -enemy. - -But Vitriol Bob was also prepared with his sharp weapon; and catching -the Doctor’s right arm with his left hand, he inflicted a wound upon -the shoulder upon his foe. Then the two men closed completely upon each -other--and the death-struggle commenced! - -It was an appalling spectacle,--the knives flashing in the pure -moon-light--and the eyes of the miscreants glaring savagely, while they -writhed in each other’s embrace, savage howls bursting from them at -short intervals. - -In less than a minute they were covered with blood: but the nature -of the contest only permitted them to inflict hideous gashes and not -decisive wounds upon each other. But suddenly Jack Rily’s foot slipped, -and he fell backward--bringing however his adversary down upon him: for -the left hand of each held a firm grasp upon the collar of the other. - -As they thus tumbled, Vitriol Bob endeavoured to plant his knife in the -breast of his antagonist--but the spring of the weapon broke, and the -blade suddenly closing as it glanced over the Doctor’s shoulder, cut -through its owner’s fingers to the very bone. A yell of mingled rage -and pain escaped him; but the chances were at the same moment equalised -by the fact of Rily’s clasp-knife escaping from his hand. - -The death-struggle was now continued by mere brute force; and the -Doctor succeeded in getting uppermost. At the same time he seized upon -Vitriol Bob’s nose with his large sharp teeth and bit it completely -off--in spite of the almost superhuman efforts of the other to resist -this savage attack. - -Yelling horribly with the pain, and with his countenance bathed -in blood, Vitriol Bob once more got his foe beneath him; and -the Doctor echoed those appalling cries of agony as he felt the -fore-finger of his adversary’s left hand thrust into one of his eyes. -Frightful--terrific--revolting was the contest at this crisis,--the two -miscreants writhing, struggling, convulsing like snakes in each other’s -grasp,--and the ferocious process of gouging inflicting the agonies of -hell upon the maddened Jack Rily. - -’Twas done: the eye was literally torn out of its socket; but the -pain excited the Doctor to the most tremendous efforts in order to -wreak a deadly vengeance upon his foe. And as they rolled over on the -blood-stained sward, Rily’s hand came in contact with the knife which -he had ere now lost; and clutching it with a savage yell of triumph, he -plunged it into Vitriol Bob’s throat. - -The miscreant, mortally wounded, rolled over on the grass with a -gurgling sound coming from between his lips; and Jack Rily was -immediately upon him, brandishing the fatal weapon. - -Then, at that moment, as the moon-light fell fully upon the countenance -of Vitriol Bob, as he gazed up at his victorious enemy, what fiendish -hate--what impotent rage--what diabolical malignity were depicted upon -those distorted features and expressed in every lineament of that -blood-smeared face,--a face rendered the more frightful by the loss of -the nose. - -“Who will return to London this morning, Bob?” demanded Jack Rily, -scarcely able to articulate, so parched was his throat--so agonising -was the pain in the socket whence the eye had been torn out. “Ah! you -can’t answer--but you know well enough what the reply should be!” - -Vitriol Bob made a sudden and desperate effort to throw his enemy off -him: but he was easily overpowered--and in another moment the Doctor -drove the sharp blade of the knife through the man’s right eye, deep -into the brain. - -So strong was the convulsive spasm which shot through the form of -Vitriol Bob, that the Doctor was hurled completely off him: but all -danger of a renewal of the contest was past--Jack Rily’s enemy was no -more! - -The conqueror lay for some minutes upon the sward, so exhausted that it -almost seemed possible to give up the ghost at a gasp: it appeared, in -fact, as if he retained a spark of life within himself by his own free -will--but that were he to breathe even too hard, existence would become -extinct that moment. - -A sensation of numbness came over him, deadening the pain which his -eyeless socket occasioned him; and for nearly ten minutes a sort of -dreamy repose stole upon the man, the incidents of the night becoming -confused and all his ideas jumbling together pell-mell. - -But suddenly--swift as the lightning darts forth from the thunder-cloud -upon the obscurity of a stormy sky--a feeling of all that had happened -and where he was sprang up in the Doctor’s soul; and half rising from -his recumbent posture, he gazed wildly around with the visual organ -that was still left. - -The motionless corpse of his slaughtered enemy lay near;--and the -moon-light rendered the ghastly countenance fearfully visible. - -The pain in the socket now returned with renewed force; and the Doctor, -raising himself up with difficulty, began to drag his heavy limbs -slowly away from the scene of a horrible contest and a dreadful death. - -He was wounded in many places; and the anguish which he now again -endured through the loss of his eye, was maddening him. - -At the bottom of the field there was a pond; and Jack Rily, on reaching -the bank of the stagnant pool, felt that he could at that moment give -all the money he possessed for a single glass of pure water. A draught -from that pond would be delicious: but how was he to obtain it? He -might stoop down, and endeavour to raise it with his hand--or he might -even fill his hat: but the bank was steep all round--and the wretched -man was so exhausted and enfeebled that he knew he should fall in and -most likely be suffocated. - -Seating himself upon the bank, he maintained his one eye fixed upon -the pond in which the moonbeams were reflected; and at the expiration -of a few minutes he resolved to make an attempt to assuage his burning -thirst, even though the consequences should be fatal. - -Stooping cautiously down, he succeeded in filling his hat; but as he -was drawing it up, he overbalanced himself, and fell headlong into the -water. - -The pond was deep: but Jack Rily managed to drag himself out;--and on -gaining the bank he fainted. - -How long he remained in a senseless state, he knew not: or whether a -deep sleep had succeeded the fit, he was likewise unable to conjecture. -Certain it was, however, that on awaking slowly from what appeared to -have been a profound trance, a stronger light than that which he had -last seen fell upon his view--for the sun had just risen. - -Then all the horrors of the past night came back to the wretch’s -memory; and, though the pain in his eyeless socket was much mitigated, -it was still poignant enough to wring bitter imprecations from his lips. - -He endeavoured to rise: but he was as stiff all over as if he had been -beaten soundly with a thick stick wielded by a strong hand--and he was -also weakened by loss of blood and the fatigues which he had undergone. - -He longed to get back to London, not only in order to have surgical -assistance to assuage the pain consequent on the frightful injury he -had sustained by the loss of his eye; but also because he was fearful -that the body of his murdered enemy would be shortly discovered and his -own arrest follow as a matter of course. - -Therefore, although he would have given worlds to be enabled to lie on -the grass for hours longer, he raised himself up, and moved slowly away -across the fields. - -But how could he enter London in the broad day-light--covered with -blood and maimed as he was? One course only appeared open to him: -namely, to remain concealed somewhere until night, and then return to -his lodgings. Accordingly, he lay down under a hedge at the distance of -about a mile from the scene of the previous night’s deadly contest; and -again did he sink into a deep trance. - -From this he was awakened by the sounds of voices; and starting up, -he heard people talking on the other side of the hedge. They were -labourers--and having discovered the corpse of Vitriol Bob in the field -adjoining Shooter’s Hill, they were hurrying back to the farm to which -they belonged, in order to give an alarm. Their pace was rapid--their -remarks denoted indescribable horror--and Jack Rily remained a -breathless listener until they were out of sight and hearing. - -He then rose and moved off across the fields as quickly as he could -drag himself along. - -The sun was now high in the heavens; and he thereby knew that it was -nearly mid-day. Not a breath of wind stirred the air; and the heat was -stifling. - -He had bandaged his head in such a way with his handkerchief as to -conceal the frightful injury which he had received by the loss of his -eye: but the pain he experienced was excruciating. - -In a short time he reached a rivulet, where he washed himself; and he -was likewise enabled to slake his thirst. A turnip plucked from a field -afforded him a sorry meal;--and thus was a man having thousands of -pounds secured about his person, reduced to the most miserable shifts -and compelled to wander about in the most deplorable condition that it -is possible to conceive. - -Never had the time appeared to pass with such leaden wings;--and, oh! -how the man longed for night to fall. Not more ardently did Wellington -at Waterloo crave for the coming of the obscurity of evening, when, -beaten and hopeless, he was in full retreat ere the Prussians made -their appearance to change the fortune of the day and win the victory -which England so arrogantly claims, not more earnestly did the Iron -Duke desire the presence of the darkness on that occasion, than Jack -Rily in the present instance. - -At last the sun was sinking in the western horizon; and the Doctor bent -his steps towards the metropolis which lay at a distance of about seven -miles. - -It was nine o’clock in the evening, when Jack Rily entered the southern -suburbs; and he succeeded in gaining his lodgings in Roupel Street -without attracting any particular observation. A surgeon with whom -he was acquainted, and who did not ask any questions so long as he -was well paid, dressed his wounds: and the Doctor began to think the -victory over his mortal enemy cheaply bought by the loss of an eye. -The black patch which he was compelled to wear, certainly increased -the hideousness of his countenance: but as vanity was not one of -his failings, this circumstance did not so much trouble him as the -inconvenience and the pain attendant upon the loss of the optic. - -In the course of the ensuing day, the report spread all over London -that the body of a man, frightfully mutilated, had been discovered -in a field near Shooter’s Hill; and that it had been removed to a -public-house at Blackheath, in order to lie there for recognition. -A minute description of the clothing which the corpse had on, was -given in the newspapers and also in placards posted in the principal -thoroughfares of the metropolis; and it was likewise stated that the -clasp-knife, with which the mortal blow was struck, had been left by -the murderer sticking in the victim’s head. - -Now it happened that Mary Calvert--_alias_ Pig-faced Moll--and whom -the reader will recollect to have been already represented as Vitriol -Bob’s paramour, was alarmed by the protracted absence of her fancy-man; -and while wandering about in search of him at his usual haunts, she -observed one of the placards. - -The attire therein specified exactly corresponded with the dress which -Vitriol Bob wore when he quitted her two days previously; and she at -once went to the public-house where the body was lying. A glance was -sufficient to convince her that her suspicions were well founded; and -on examining the clasp-knife, she instantly recognised it as one which -she had frequently seen in the possession of Jack Rily. - -Everything was now clearly apparent to Molly Calvert. She knew the -deadly animosity that Vitriol Bob had nourished against the Doctor: she -was likewise acquainted with the intention of her paramour to wreak his -vengeance upon that individual on the first suitable occasion;--and -she therefore concluded that a deadly conflict had taken place between -them, ending in the murder of her fancy-man. - -From the public-house where the body lay, she proceeded straight to a -police-station, where she gave such information as led to an immediate -search after the Doctor. In the course of the next day a member of -the Detectives ascertained that Jack Rily had recently been living in -Roupel Street, and that he had only quitted his lodgings there the -preceding evening. For the Doctor, alarmed by the publicity given to -the discovery of Vitriol Bob’s body, had deemed it prudent to flit. - -Several days elapsed without affording the police any clue to his -whereabouts: but at the expiration of a week Molly Calvert herself one -evening traced him to an obscure pot-house in one of the vilest parts -of Bethnal Green; and he was immediately arrested. - -Upon his person was found a vast sum in gold and bank-notes--but -chiefly consisting of the latter; and this amount was accordingly -seized by the officers. Jack Rily was then locked up for the night, and -on the following morning he was taken before a magistrate. - -When charged with the murder of Vitriol Bob, he at once admitted that -he had been the cause of that individual’s death, but declared that it -was in self-defence. His story was corroborated by many circumstances, -amongst which the loss of his eye was not the least; for the organ had -been found, as it was torn out of its socket, close by the corpse. -The gashes which the man had received--Vitriol Bob’s own clasp-knife, -discovered on the fatal spot--and the evident marks of a fearful -struggle having taken place,--all proved that the deed was neither -cold-blooded nor accomplished by surprise. On the other hand, might not -Jack Rily have himself provoked the contest which terminated so fatally -to his opponent? This point the magistrate left to a jury to decide; -and the Doctor was ordered to be committed for trial. Relative to the -money found upon his person, he persisted in declaring that it was his -own, and that he had come by it honestly,--but from what source he -refused to state. - - - - -CHAPTER CCV. - -THE CASTELCICALAN REPUBLIC. - - -Castelcicala became a Republic; and Richard Markham had the immortal -honour of founding a purely democratic government in the finest State -belonging to the Italian Peninsula. - -The Chamber of Senators voted by an immense majority the very measure -which deprived them of their rank of Peers, and abolished titles of -nobility altogether. This species of suicidal process, adopted in -obedience to the popular will, the interests of the community at large, -and the dictates of a consummate civilisation, presented a glorious -spectacle to the eyes of all the world. And these good men who thus -sacrificed their own family interests to those of their country, -experienced a rich reward in the enthusiasm with which they were -received by the people when the result of the division on the third -reading of the Bill was made known. For no empty honours could outvie -that applause which grateful myriads thus poured forth; and if Dukes, -Marquises, Counts, Viscounts, and Barons went home that day denuded of -those titles, they had the proud recompense of a conviction that their -names would shine all the more resplendently in history through their -own unartificial light. Their’s was now the aristocracy of VIRTUE and -INTELLIGENCE! - -The Chamber of Peers was abolished; but all those who had voted in -favour of the Government measures were returned by a grateful people as -members of the National Assembly which was now convoked--the new system -admitting of only one House of Parliament. The moment that august body -met, one of its earliest duties was to frame the new Constitution; -and this was done on the broadest and most liberal principles. It -was resolved, amongst other matters thus definitively settled, that -the President of the Republic should be elected on the principle of -universal suffrage, and for three years; and we need scarcely inform -our readers that there was not even any opposition attempted against -General Markham. - -But in the meantime--for these proceedings occupied upwards of two -months--the other Italian States had become seriously alarmed at the -establishment of Democracy in Castelcicala; and the diplomatic agents -of Naples, Rome, Tuscany, and Sardinia were ordered by their respective -Governments to demand their passports. These were instantaneously -granted; and shortly after the departure of the envoys, a league was -formed by the Sovereigns of the States which we have named for the -purpose of compelling Castelcicala to return into the sisterhood of -monarchical countries. Protocols first poured into the Foreign Office -at Montoni; and these were logically answered by the Minister presiding -over that department. Menaces followed;--and these were treated with a -firmness proving how confidently General Markham and his Cabinet relied -upon the Castelcicalans to defend the institutions which they had -consecrated. An ultimatum, threatening immediate hostilities, was now -signed by that blood-thirsty miscreant the King of Naples--by the weak, -timid, and vacillating Pope Pius IX.--by the Grand Duke of Tuscany--and -by Charles Albert, King of Sardinia. To this document Richard Markham -replied, through the Minister of Foreign Affairs, insisting upon the -right of the Castelcicalans, as a free people, to choose their own -form of Government; and the argument was so well sustained by a mass -of reasoning, that the King of Sardinia and the Grand-Duke of Tuscany -withdrew from the league, re-accrediting their diplomatic agents -to the Castelcicalan Republic. The timid Pope was frightened by a -knowledge of Markham’s military prowess into a similar course; and the -tyrant Ferdinand of Naples was left alone in hostility against the -newly-established Democracy. - -This monarch--obstinate, self-willed, and blood-thirsty, like all -the Bourbons--was not disheartened by what he called the “defection” -of the Pontiff, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and the King of Piedmont; -but he immediately declared war against the Castelcicalan Republic. -Thereupon General Markham commenced the most active preparations, -not only to prevent an invasion, but to carry hostilities into the -enemy’s country. In a short time an army of twenty-six thousand men was -collected in the south of the State; and Richard, having taken leave -of his family, proceeded to join it, attended by a numerous staff, of -which Charles Hatfield was a member. The executive power was in the -meantime delegated to Signor Bassano, the General’s brother-in-law; and -the utmost enthusiasm pervaded the entire Castelcicalan population, so -great was the confidence entertained in the valour of the army and the -skill of its commander. - -It was in the first week of December, 1846, that the Castelcicalan -forces commenced their march towards the Neapolitan frontier. -Intelligence had already arrived to the effect that the Neapolitans, -to the number of forty thousand men, were advancing under the command -of General Avellino; but Markham, well knowing that the spirit of -a republican army was far greater than that which animates troops -belonging to a monarchy, was not daunted by this immense numerical -superiority on the part of the enemy. He was deeply impressed with the -opinion that Napoleon Bonaparte had damped the ardour of his soldiers -by exchanging the consular cap for the imperial crown: his knowledge -of French history told him that Bonaparte’s grandest victories were -gained with a republican army;--and he was likewise well aware that -the Neapolitan troops loathed and abhorred the monarch who had sent -them out to fight against liberal institutions. He therefore resolved -to push on and meet the enemy; for his generous nature contemplated -with horror the prospect of an invasion of the fertile plains of -Castelcicala by an army which even in its own country acted the lawless -and ferocious part of a horde of plunderers and ravagers. - -On the 7th of December, General Markham entered the Neapolitan -territory at the head of his troops; and on the same evening he -encamped beneath the walls of Casino, which surrendered without the -least attempt at resistance. Here he waited four days in the hope that -the Neapolitans would advance to the attack: but hearing that they had -halted to rest awhile at Sabino--a place about sixty miles distant--he -determined to continue his march. Accordingly, in the afternoon of the -13th, he came within sight of General Avellino’s army, which he found -to be occupying a strong position at a short distance from Sabino. - -General Markham ascended an elevated flat to reconnoitre the precise -distribution of the Neapolitans, and he was speedily convinced that -an immense advantage might be gained by placing the artillery upon -that height. The task was a difficult one to accomplish: but nothing -was impossible to an active commander and enthusiastic troops;--and -thus in a few hours, hollows were filled up, projections levelled, -and a pathway cleared for the ascent of the cannon. Meantime General -Avellino had made no movement on his side; and ere sunset the work of -establishing the artillery on the eminence was complete. - -The inactivity of the enemy during the entire afternoon led Markham -to believe that Avellino meditated an attack in the course of the -night; and the Castelcicalans were therefore fully prepared to give the -Neapolitans a warm reception. But hour after hour passed without any -indication of the approach of the enemy; and General Markham resolved -to take the initiative at day-break. - -Scarcely had the sun risen on the morning of the 14th of December, when -the action commenced by a smart fire on the part of the Castelcicalan -light troops, commanded by an active and gallant officer in whom the -General had full confidence. The Neapolitans were thereby dislodged -from an apparently inaccessible position near Sabino; and the result -was that the Castelcicalans were enabled to stretch out upon the plains -so as to threaten the enemy’s flanks. Both armies were soon within -cannon shot; and by nine o’clock in the forenoon the action became -general. - -The manœuvres on the Castelcicalan side were performed with a -marvellous precision, fully compensating for the numerical inferiority -of Markham’s troops; and by mid-day they had succeeded in gaining -possession of a wood which covered one of the enemy’s corps. At the -same time the cannon upon the height were scattering death throughout -the Neapolitan ranks; and General Avellino ordered up his reserve of -cavalry to take a share in the conflict. Markham was well prepared for -this proceeding; and at the head of his cuirassiers he dashed against -the new-comers. This charge was made with an impetuosity altogether -irresistible; and the Neapolitans were thrown into disorder in that -part of the field. The Castelcicalans pursued their advantage; and by -four o’clock in the afternoon the enemy were completely overwhelmed. - -The Neapolitan loss was immense: upwards of twelve thousand men of -that army lay dead upon the field--while an equal number had been made -prisoners. On Markham’s side the number of killed did not exceed two -thousand; but the generous-hearted young man considered his splendid -victory to be dearly bought even by means of that sacrifice--and the -eyes which flashed with the fires of heroism on the battle-field, now -melted into tears at the evidences of the sanguinary fight. - -We should observe that the conduct of Charles Hatfield was admirable -throughout this memorable day. In the charge upon the Neapolitan -cavalry, he comported himself in a manner that more than once gained -for him the approval of his commander; and when the strife was over and -the victory was won, Markham complimented him on his prowess in the -presence of the officers gathered about him at the time. - -The booty acquired by this great battle was immense; for the -Neapolitans who survived the conflict were compelled to retreat with -such precipitation as to leave all their baggage and artillery in the -hands of their enemy. - -On the following day Markham set his army in motion towards the -capital, at the gates of which he was determined to force the King to -acknowledge the Castelcicalan Republic. But in his progress through -the Neapolitan dominions, he adopted the most rigorous measures to -protect the innocent inhabitants from plunder or wrong at the hands of -his victorious troops; and he issued a proclamation to the effect that -any soldier found guilty of an act of oppression or outrage, should be -expelled the army and deprived of his civil rights as a Castelcicalan -citizen. - -It was at about mid-day on the 17th of December that Markham came -within sight of Naples; and he was then met by plenipotentiaries -sent by King Ferdinand to treat for an armistice, preparatory to -negociations for peace. The victorious General received the deputies -with the utmost courtesy; he however bade them observe that it was -not for him to _treat_--but to _dictate_. Thereupon he drew up the -conditions on which he would spare the capital and retire from the -kingdom,--those terms being the acknowledgment of the Castelcicalan -Republic, the payment of all the expenses incurred by Castelcicala -in consequence of this war, and a guarantee against the renewal of -hostilities on the same pretence. - -To these conditions Ferdinand refused to accede; and the citizens of -Naples were called upon to arm in defence of the capital. But the -people rose up as one man within the walls of the city, and threatened -to dethrone the King unless he accepted the terms set forth by General -Markham. The blood-thirsty Ferdinand was accordingly compelled to -submit to the demands of the Castelcicalan General; and the conditions -being fulfilled in the course of a few days, Markham began to retrace -his way to the State which he had thus a second time saved from -destruction. - -It would be impossible to describe the enthusiasm with which the -victorious General and his army were received on their return to -Castelcicala. The roads were lined with a grateful population, -anxious to catch a glimpse of the hero and to testify their joy -at the conquest which he had achieved over the enemy. Triumphal -arches were raised--flags were waving in all directions--towns were -illuminated--municipal corporations appeared with congratulatory -addresses--and the peasantry made bonfires on the hills as proofs of -their delight. - -When the army approached Montoni, the General’s family came out to meet -him: and Isabella experienced more sincere pride in embracing a husband -whose citizen name it was an honour to bear, than if he still wore a -princely title and held a sovereign rank. - -Peace was thus ensured to Castelcicala; and the Republic was firmly -established, not only by the will of the people, but likewise by the -prowess of the army. - -Charles Hatfield, who, as one of the General’s aides-de-camp, already -held the rank of lieutenant, was now invested with a captaincy; and -one of the members of the National Assembly happening to die at the -time, the constituency thus left temporarily unrepresented, offered to -elect him as their deputy. But he felt anxious to return to England; -for letters reached him about this period, informing him that Mr. -Hatfield’s health had latterly caused serious apprehensions to his -relatives and friends;--and the young man accordingly demanded leave of -absence for a period. This was granted without hesitation; and Charles -Hatfield took his departure, laden with presents from Markham and his -family, and attended with their sincerest wishes for his prosperity. - - - - -CHAPTER CCVI. - -CHARLES HATFIELD IN LONDON AGAIN. - - -The information which Charles Hatfield had received respecting his -father’s health, was too true. Indeed, the accounts were purposely -mitigated in order to alarm him as little as possible; and on his -arrival at Lord Ellingham’s mansion in Pall Mall, he found Mr. Hatfield -confined to his bed. - -Charles was greatly shocked at this circumstance: for he could not -help fancying that his conduct had contributed mainly to undermine -his father’s health; but Mr. Hatfield reassured him on that head by -declaring that a severe cold was the commencement of his illness. - -“Were I thrown upon this bed of sickness by any fault of yours, -Charles,” he said, pressing his son’s hand affectionately in both his -own, “your behaviour during your short sojourn in Italy would speedily -raise me from it. Not only have the newspapers mentioned your name in -a manner highly creditable to you: but General Markham has sent us -accounts of the most satisfactory nature concerning you.” - -These words were gratifying indeed to the young man. - -“I can assure you, my revered parent,” he said, “that I am indeed -fully and completely changed. The image of that vile woman whom we -will not name, is loathsome and abhorrent to me--and I would as -readily come in contact with a serpent, as meet her again. Respecting -that insane ambition which animated me at the same time I formed that -disastrous attachment,--an ambition which prompted me to aspire to -a noble title,--it has all vanished as if it had never been. I have -contemplated Republican institutions--I have seen a mighty Prince and -all his family lay aside their high rank without regret and abandon -their titles with cheerfulness and at their own free will,--I have -likewise beheld the magnates of the land following the same example, -so that the equality of citizenship may be fully established;--and -I am now astonished that I could ever have aspired to mere titular -distinction. My eyes have been opened to the fact that men may be great -and rise to fame, without those adventitious aids which savour of -feudal barbarism;--and I am prouder of that rank of _Captain_ which the -battle of Sabino gave me in the army of Republican Castelcicala, than -I could possibly be were the coronet of Ellingham placed upon my brow. -Oh! how happy should I feel, could we all proceed to Castelcicala and -settle for life in that beautiful city of Montoni which I love so well: -yes--all of us to fix our habitation there,” continued Charles, with -the enthusiasm that was characteristic of his nature,--“you--my dear -mother, who received me so kindly--the excellent Earl and his amiable -Countess--myself--” - -“And what is to become of poor Lady Frances?” asked Mr. Hatfield, with -a smile in spite of his severe indisposition. “Wherefore is she not -included in your list? Do you think that the Earl and the Countess -would leave their amiable and lovely daughter behind them?” - -Charles Hatfield blushed deeply as his father thus addressed him. - -“Well, my dear boy--you make no reply,” resumed Mr. Hatfield, with the -smile--and a smile of ineffable satisfaction it was--still playing -upon his pale countenance: “has Lady Frances offended you? Did she not -receive you on your arrival ere now with as much kindness as the rest?” - -“Oh! yes--yes,” exclaimed Charles; “and she appeared to me more -exquisitely beautiful than ever! Fool that I was--insensate -dolt--idiot--madman, ever to place myself in a position which----” - -“Do not excite yourself thus, my dear boy,” interrupted Mr. Hatfield. -“You admire Lady Frances?” he observed, after a short pause, and now -attentively watching his son’s countenance. - -“My God! do not ask me that question, my dear father!” ejaculated -Charles, with an expression of deep anguish on his features. “I love -my beautiful cousin--I love her--and she cannot be mine! Oh! since I -have been absent I have pondered on her image--I have cherished it as -if it were that of a guardian angel! I have compared the amiability and -excellence of Frances with the character of _that woman_--and you may -judge how resplendently the charming girl shines by means of such a -contrast!” - -“And you may hope--yes, you may hope, Charles,” said Mr. Hatfield, -raising himself partially up in the bed. “Happiness yet awaits you.” - -“Happiness--hope--my dear father!” ejaculated Charles; “you speak in -enigmas--you----” - -“Nay--I speak only what I mean; and all I say is intelligible,” -interrupted Mr. Hatfield. “I tell you that you may hope for -happiness--that Lady Frances may yet become your wife!” - -“Is it possible?” cried the young man, clasping his hands in the -wildness of his joy. “But how? Is that woman dead?” he demanded, -speaking with strange rapidity of utterance. - -“No--she is not dead,” responded his father: “but she has married -again!” - -“Married!” ejaculated Charles. “And yet I do not see how that -circumstance will alter my position,” he added, in a desponding tone. - -“Listen attentively--and do not excite yourself at one moment, and in -the next give way to despair,” said Mr. Hatfield. - -Charles seated himself at his father’s bed-side, and prepared to hear -with attention the words that were about to be addressed to him. - -“Some time ago--when it was first resolved that you should proceed to -Italy for a short time,” said Mr. Hatfield, “the Earl of Ellingham -communicated to me the generous views which he entertained with regard -to you. He observed that, as you had already discarded the woman who -had ensnared you, and as she had agreed never more to molest you, you -were morally severed in respect to the matrimonial bond. He moreover -declared that should this woman contract another marriage and thereby -prove that such severance was complete, it would be a despicable -fastidiousness and a contemptible affectation to tell you _that you -must never know matrimonial happiness, but that you must remain in your -present false position, a husband without a wife, for the remainder of -your days_. Those were the very words which his lordship used, Charles, -on the occasion to which I am alluding.” - -“Oh! am I to understand--” exclaimed the young man. - -“Silence!” interrupted Mr. Hatfield: “be not impatient nor -impetuous--but hear me out. Lord Ellingham continued to observe that -if the woman should contract a new marriage, and if _you_, Charles, -manifested contrition for the past,--if your conduct were such as to -afford sure guarantees for the future,--and if your attachment for -Lady Frances should revive,--under all those circumstances the Earl -declared that he should not consider himself justified in stamping the -unhappiness alike of yourself and his daughter by refusing his consent -to your union.” - -“Do I hear aright?” exclaimed Charles, a giddiness coming over him -through excessive joy. “Oh! what generosity on the part of the Earl!” - -“Yes--his sentiments on this subject were fraught with liberality,” -returned Mr. Hatfield. “He argued in the following manner:--A young man -is ensnared into an alliance with a woman whom he believed to be pure, -but whom in a few hours he discovered to be a demon of pollution. They -separate upon written conditions of the most positive character,--a -private arrangement being deemed preferable to the public scandal of an -appeal to the tribunals. This woman marries again--and every remnant -of a claim which she might have had upon the individual whom she had -ensnared and deluded, ceases at once. There is a complete snapping of -the bond--a total severance of the tie; and her conduct by the fact -of the second marriage proves that she so understands it. The law may -certainly proclaim the first marriage to be the only legal one: but -morality, which holds marriage to be a covenant between two parties, -revolts against the principle which the code establishes. It is upon -these grounds that the Earl of Ellingham will give you the hand of his -lovely and amiable daughter.” - -It were useless to attempt to describe the joy which filled the soul -of Charles Hatfield when these tidings met his ears. He seized his -father’s hand and pressed it to his lips with grateful fervour: then, -promising to return in a few minutes, he flew to the library where he -understood the Earl to be at the moment; and casting himself at the -feet of that good nobleman, he implored pardon for his past conduct, -declaring that nothing should induce him to swerve from the path of -rectitude in future. - -The Earl of Ellingham raised the contrite young man--embraced him -affectionately--and bade him throw a complete veil over all that -related to his unfortunate marriage. His lordship then repeated, but -more concisely, the observations which Mr. Hatfield had already made -to his son; and at the conclusion of the interview he said, “And now, -Charles, if your inclinations really and truly prompt you to take the -step, you have my permission to solicit Lady Frances to allow you to -become the suitor for her hand.” - -Captain Hatfield expressed his liveliest gratitude in suitable terms; -and hastening back to his father, he narrated all that had just -occurred between himself and the Earl. Mr. Hatfield was cheered and -delighted by the spectacle of his son’s happiness, and bade him repair -to the drawing-room to pass an hour with the ladies. - -We need scarcely state that Lady Georgiana was much pleased by -the return of Charles to England, especially as he had so highly -distinguished himself in the Neapolitan campaign. Nor less was the -Countess of Ellingham--the amiable Esther--gratified by an event which -restored the missing one to the family circle: while Lady Frances -attempted not to conceal the joy that the young soldier’s presence -afforded her. - -It is not, however, our purpose to dwell upon this subject:--for we -have now to relate an incident which led to consequences of great -importance to several persons who have figured in our narrative. - -The day after Charles Hatfield’s arrival in London, he was proceeding -on foot up Regent Street, in order to pay a visit to his tailor for -the purpose of making some additions to his wardrobe, when he met -Captain Barthelma: for Laura’s husband had lost his title of Count -of Carignano, in consequence of the establishment of the Republic in -Castelcicala. - -The young Italian was alone; and the meeting between the two was -most friendly and cordial,--for during the short time that they were -acquainted, Charles had observed many excellent qualities on the part -of Barthelma, who on his side was enraptured with the heroic conduct -that Captain Hatfield had displayed at the battle of Sabino, a full -narrative of which had duly appeared in the English newspapers. - -Taking the arm of Charles, Captain Barthelma walked with him up Regent -Street; and for some time they conversed upon the late Neapolitan -campaign--the glorious destinies of Republican Castelcicala--the noble -conduct of President Markham--and various other matters connected with -the Italian’s native land. - -“It has grieved me greatly in one sense,” observed Barthelma, “that -I should have been absent from my post about the person of General -Markham at a time when such momentous incidents were taking place. But -on the other hand I rejoice in my withdrawal from that hero’s service, -inasmuch as I thereby secured the hand of one of the most lovely--nay, -_the_ most lovely woman in the world.” - -[Illustration] - -“I congratulate you most sincerely upon having formed an alliance which -appears to afford you so much happiness,” answered Charles; “and I hope -to have the honour of being presented to the signora--for I presume you -have espoused a lady belonging to your own country.” - -“No--she is an Englishwoman,” returned Captain Barthelma; “and you have -seen her.” - -“Indeed!” exclaimed Charles. - -“Yes--you have seen her,” repeated the Italian. “But tell me--do you -recollect that day when you, Lieutenant Di Ponta, and myself walked -together in the Champs Elysées in consequence of a mysterious note -which we received from a pretended Spanish refugee----” - -“Oh! yes--yes--I well remember that day!” exclaimed Captain Hatfield. -“Indeed, how could I ever forget it?” - -“You speak with excitement, my dear friend,” said Barthelma, surprised -at his companion’s manner, but entertaining not the slightest suspicion -of the real cause of his agitation. - -“Ah! if you only knew all!” observed the young man. “But I will tell -you enough to warn you against falling into the power of the vilest -woman that ever wore an angel shape to conceal a demon heart: I will -reveal to you sufficient to place you on your guard against that syren, -should you ever happen to encounter her. For her disposition is such -that, to gratify her wantonness, her caprice, or her avarice, she would -as readily prey upon a married as on an unmarried man.” - -“Indeed! you interest me,” said the Castelcicalan, still altogether -unsuspicious of the real meaning of the allusion. - -“Yes--but the interest will soon become of an appalling character,” -resumed Charles, speaking in a tone of deep solemnity. “For there is in -the world a woman whose loveliness is so superhuman and whose witchery -is so irresistible that she would move the heart of an anchorite. -This woman was born in Newgate, where her mother was incarcerated on -a charge of forgery, and whence she was soon afterwards transported -to Australia. The child was called _Perdita_, or ‘The Lost One;’ and -the mother took the babe with her to her place of exile. Years passed -away--and Perdita had grown up to a lovely girl. But the natural -wantonness of her disposition manifested itself at a very early age; -and her profligacy soon became notorious at Sydney. Well, in due time -the mother returned to England, Perdita accompanying her; and in London -did those women commence their grand scheme of preying upon the public. -Alas! shall I confess how weak--how mad--how insensate I was? But the -delirium has passed away--and I now look back upon it with a loathing -which prevents me from contemplating it coolly. For I was ensnared by -that vile Perdita--and I became her victim. I proceeded with her to -Paris; and my father followed to rescue me from ruin. He discovered the -place of our abode, and painted the character of that woman in such -frightful--such appalling colours, without the least exaggeration, -that I was reduced to despair on account of the conduct which I had -pursued. I quitted Paris--returned to London--and was then received -into the service of General Markham. But you ere now asked me if I -remembered the day when yourself Di Ponta and I walked together in the -Champs Elysées. You shall now judge whether I have reason to retain -the incident in my memory. For you, Barthelma, cannot have forgotten -that lady who so much attracted your notice, and who purposely let fall -her parasol----But, heavens! what is the matter with you?” ejaculated -Captain Hatfield, perceiving that his companion started as if a ghastly -spectre had suddenly sprang up before him. - -“My God! is it possible?--that woman--in the Champs Elysées--” gasped -the young Italian, a deadly pallor overspreading his countenance, while -he staggered backward and would have fallen had not Charles sustained -him by the arm. - -“That woman--for a lady I can scarcely call her--was Perdita Mortimer,” -said Hatfield, emphatically. - -“Oh! malediction upon the hateful syren!” exclaimed Barthelma, terribly -excited. - -“Compose yourself!--what is the matter?” cried Charles. “You will -attract observation--the people will notice you----” - -“I am composed--yes, I am cool and collected now,” murmured the -unhappy young Italian, all his tremendous imprudence bursting upon -his comprehension like a thunder-storm. “Here--let us pass up this -street--it is comparatively deserted--and we can converse more at -our ease,” he faltered painfully, as he dragged his companion up New -Burlington Street. - -A suspicion had in the meantime flashed to the imagination of Charles -Hatfield. Was it possible that Barthelma could have married the -profligate Perdita, or Laura? He himself had not learnt from his father -how he knew that the syren-demoness was married again, or whom she -had thus ensnared;--and the Italian’s sudden excitement could not be -accounted for otherwise than by the fact that he had made her his wife. - -“My God! this intelligence is overwhelming!” murmured Captain -Barthelma. “Oh! my dear friend,” he exclaimed, turning with the -abruptness of an almost maddening excitement towards Hatfield, “pity -me--pity me; that woman of whom you have spoken is----” - -“Is what?” demanded Charles impatiently. - -“My wife!” responded Barthelma;--and the moment the words were uttered -his excitement gave way to a blank despair. - -“Malediction upon my communicativeness--my insane garrulity!” -ejaculated Charles. “I shall never--never forgive myself for having -made these most uncalled-for revelations!” - -“Do not blame yourself, my dear friend,” returned the young Italian, -in a tone of the deepest melancholy: “you knew not how painfully your -words would affect me--you could not anticipate that the warning which -you generously intended to convey would come far too late!” - -“And, after all, there may be some error--some mistake,” cried Charles, -catching at a straw on behalf of his afflicted companion: “the woman -whom I mean may not be the same as the lady whom you have espoused----” - -“Yes--yes: ’tis the same!” ejaculated the Italian, impatiently: “Laura -Mortimer--the beauteous creature whom we saw in the Champs Elysées, and -whose mother met with a horrible death some months ago.” - -“Ah! that old woman is no more!” exclaimed Charles. “But of what nature -was the death of which you speak so shudderingly?” - -“The frightful incident occurred when you were in Italy,” answered -Barthelma. “Some villain broke a bottle of aqua-fortis or vitriol over -her head--and she died in fearful agonies. But I must leave you now, my -dear friend,” said the Castelcicalan, with wild abruptness of manner; -and hastily wringing both of Hatfield’s hands, he darted away and was -out of sight in a few moments. - - - - -CHAPTER CCVII. - -MR. GREEN’S OFFICE. - - -On the same morning, and at about the same time that Charles Hatfield -and Captain Barthelma thus encountered each other in Regent Street, -certain incidents of importance to the thread of our narrative occurred -elsewhere. - -We must request the reader to accompany us to a newly fitted up suite -of offices in Warwick Court, Holborn; and in the private room we shall -find Mr. Green seated at a desk covered with papers. - -A material alteration had taken place in the external appearance of -this individual. He was well dressed--looked clean and neat--and wore -an air of assurance instead of the downcast, obsequious, grovelling -demeanour that had characterised him when in the service of Mr. -Heathcote. - -His private room was neatly furnished and had a business-like aspect: -in the front office two clerks were busily employed in drawing up -statements to be laid before counsel in several heavy suits; and in the -passage outside a process-server was waiting for instructions. - -Mr. Green had drawn his table near the fire that blazed in the -grate--for the reader must remember that several months had elapsed -since the adventures of this individual with Jack Rily, and it was now -the commencement of February, 1847. - -The cheerful flames roared half-way up the chimney;--and as Green -felt the genial heat diffusing a glow throughout his frame, he -smiled triumphantly as he contrasted his present position with what -it was in those times when he was compelled to sit without a fire, -from nine in the morning till six in the evening, on the hard high -stool in Heathcote’s front office. Now he was a solicitor on his own -account--had his name once more in the Law List--could look with -complacency into his banker’s book--and, when business was over for the -day, had nothing to do but to step into an omnibus and ride as far as -the door of his neat little dwelling at Bayswater. - -No wonder, then, that Mr. Green’s countenance had lost its downcast -look and its haggard, broken-hearted expression: no wonder that hope -beamed in his eyes, and that his tone and manner had recovered the -assurance, if not the actual dignity, of former days. - -On the particular morning of which we are writing, Mr. Green was more -than usually elate; and as he looked over the papers that lay before -him, the inward exultation which he experienced imparted the glow of -animation to his features. - -Presently the door opened and his junior clerk appeared, saying, “Mr. -Heathcote, sir.” - -“Let him walk in,” returned Green, assuming a cold tone: but his heart -was palpitating violently with mingled feelings of joy, triumph, and -insatiate revenge. - -In a few moments James Heathcote entered the room. - -But, oh! how changed was that man, not only in countenance but also in -deportment! His face was thin--haggard--care-worn: his eyes, sunken -in their sockets, were dim and glazed;--his form was bowed;--and in -the course of a few months his hair had turned from an iron grey to -a stainless white. His aspect was deplorable; and his manner was -indicative of deep mental distress--anxiety--suffering--and humiliation. - -“Sit down, sir,” said Green, in a patronising tone. - -Heathcote placed his hat upon the floor and took a chair: then, -fixing his hollow eyes upon his ex-clerk, he was about to open his -business--but, unable to bear up against the tide of reminiscences that -rushed to his soul, he burst into tears. - -Green affected not to notice this ebullition of grief; but deliberately -poked the fire. - -For a few minutes the old lawyer sate sobbing in the presence of the -man whom he had trampled upon during the long period of his vassalage; -and at length recovering sufficient composure to enable his tongue to -give utterance to the ideas that were uppermost, he said, “Mr. Green, -you are doubtless astonished to receive a visit from _me_!” - -“Not at all, sir: I expected it,” was the laconic reply. - -“And wherefore should you have expected it?” asked Heathcote, anxiously. - -“Because the result of yesterday’s trial in the Court of Queen’s Bench -places you completely in the power of my victorious client,” responded -Green; “and you are likewise well aware that every other action pending -against you must he decided in the same manner.” - -“Yes--I cannot close my eyes to that fact,” observed Heathcote, -actually wringing his hands. - -“And therefore you are ruined--totally ruined,” returned Green, with a -demoniac smile of triumph. - -“Ruined--totally ruined!” repeated Heathcote, with that mechanical -unconsciousness which is indicative of despair--blank despair. - -“Not only ruined in pocket, but in character likewise,” resumed -Green, his tone becoming merciless--nay, absolutely savage and -ferocious. “That long trial of yesterday--a trial which occupied -eight hours--revealed you in your true colours to all the world. The -counsel whom I employed, tore you to pieces. All your chicanery was -unravelled--all your manœvres traced, followed up, and exposed--all -your fraudulent proceedings dragged to light. Oh! you, who never -spared a human being, Mr. Heathcote, were not spared yesterday: -you, who never pitied a living soul, were not pitied yesterday! The -barrister resembled a giant, and you a dwarf whom he held up writhing -and shrieking in presence of the whole court--aye, the whole country. -Every newspaper published this morning, contains a long account of the -proceedings;--and by this time your character stinks in the nostrils of -the entire profession.” - -“Then am I not sufficiently punished, Mr. Green?” asked Heathcote, the -tears rolling down his thin, emaciated, and sallow countenance. “Since -you first commenced these numerous suits against me, I have not known -a moment’s peace. Sleep has scarcely ever visited my pillow: the awful -gulph of infamy and disgrace was always yawning at my feet. Look at -me, Mr. Green--look at me! Am I not changed? My God! I am twenty years -older than I was on that day when you quitted me in such anger and with -such dreadful threats!” - -“And those threats shall be fulfilled to the very letter--yes, to the -very letter,” said Mr. Green, in a tone of unmitigated bitterness. -“I told you that there should be war between us--war to the very -knife;--and I have kept my word! I told you that ere a few months had -elapsed, you would bitterly repent your conduct to one who only asked -for a little kindness in return for his faithful services;--and you -have already repented! But my memory is immortal, Mr. Heathcote--and I -can never, never forget the injuries, the insults, the degradations, -and the wrongs I have received at your hands. My thirst for revenge is -therefore insatiable--and this very day shall I adopt another and still -more important proceeding with regard to you.” - -“My God! all this amounts to a persecution!” ejaculated Heathcote, -literally writhing upon his chair. - -“Call it what you will, sir,” responded Green, savagely: “no words--no -entreaties--no menaces--no prayers on your part can stay me in the -course which I am adopting.” - -“And that course?” said Heathcote, shuddering with apprehension. - -“Is an indictment at the Old Bailey for conspiracy,” answered Green. - -“No--no: you cannot do it!” cried Heathcote, now becoming dreadfully -excited. - -“You are lawyer enough to know that I _can_ do it,” rejoined Green, -with a smile of infernal triumph. “The evidence obtained from -yesterday’s proceedings inculpated another person with you in the -fraud--the damnable fraud that you practised upon my client years ago; -and at this very moment my clerks are drawing up the statement to be -submitted to counsel with a view to an indictment against yourself and -your accomplice!” - -“I could have borne everything but this!” exclaimed the miserable man, -covering his face with his two thin hands, and then shaking his head -wildly, as if in a species of hysteria. - -“Yes--and you suspected that such would be the course that I should -adopt,” resumed Green: “for it is precisely the measure that you -yourself would have taken in similar circumstances. What you have done -to others, Mr. Heathcote, shall now be done to you;--and it were as -reasonable to implore the forbearance of a ravenous tiger, as to appeal -to me for mercy!” - -“One word, Mr. Green--one word!” ejaculated Heathcote, starting from -his seat. “I will at once--yes, this very moment--surrender up all the -various sums and properties you claim on behalf of the numerous clients -whom you represent _against_ me,--I will satisfy and liquidate all your -demands--leaving myself a beggar--yes, a beggar upon the face of the -earth--on condition that you abandon this criminal prosecution!” - -“Peruse that list of my clients and the amount of their claims,” said -Green, handing the wretched man a paper. - -“The sum is enormous--frightful!” exclaimed Heathcote, his countenance -becoming hideous to gaze upon. - -“And to that amount must be added a thousand pounds to satisfy me for -the costs which I shall lose by the compromise,” returned Green, with -implacable coldness both of tone and manner. - -“As God is my judge, I cannot command that additional thousand pounds -which you stipulate for!” cried Heathcote, trembling with nervous -excitement. - -“Then apply to your brother, Sir Gilbert,” responded Green, a sardonic -smile curling his lips. - -“He is not in England--he has gone abroad, I know not whither!” -exclaimed the miserable man. “Months have now elapsed since his -mistress became reconciled to her husband, the Marquis of Delmour--and -Gilbert suddenly quitted England about the same time. He refused to -see me previous to his departure: he rejected my proposals--my humble -proposals for a reconciliation. Therefore, were I even acquainted with -his present abode, it would be useless and vain to apply to him for -succour.” - -“Thus is it that all your grand schemes--your magnificent designs--your -comprehensive plans, have fallen in with a tremendous crash, burying -you in the ruins!” said Green, in a slow and measured tone that was -torturing and intolerable with its diabolical sardonism. “Well,” he -continued, after a few moments’ pause, “I will renounce the demand of -the thousand pounds, on condition that you at once--and ere you quit -my presence--assign all your property, of whatever kind, with a view -to the liquidation of these claims and the settlement of all the suits -pending against you.” - -“I will do so,” said Heathcote, “provided that you give me an -undertaking to abandon all criminal proceedings against me.” - -“Agreed,” was the response; and the two lawyers drew up certain -documents which they forthwith exchanged: and we may observe that -whereas Green’s handwriting was firm, clear, and legible, that of -his discomfited opponent was trembling, blotted, and indicative of a -terrible excitement. - -“My ruin--my utter ruin is now consummated!” groaned Heathcote, -wringing his hands bitterly. “All that I had heaped up for my old -age----” - -“And that you had obtained at the sacrifice of the happiness of -hundreds,” interrupted Green, his tone suddenly assuming the savage -triumph of one who gloats over the downfall of a hated enemy. “But we -will not prolong our interview, sir. The day of retribution has come at -last--and in a few minutes I have wreaked the pent-up vengeance of long -years. Begone, sir--offend me not another moment with your presence! My -head clerk shall accompany you to your own office in order that you may -place in his hands the securities and the documents specified in the -agreement that you have given me.” - -Heathcote made no reply: but turning hastily away, took his departure, -followed by Green’s managing man, who received the necessary -instructions from his master. - -Scarcely had the ruined lawyer thus quitted the establishment of his -flourishing and merciless oppressor, when a lady wearing a thick black -veil entered the front office and requested an immediate interview with -Mr. Green. The junior clerk delivered this message to his employer, and -the lady was forthwith introduced to the legal gentleman’s presence in -the comfortable back room. - -A rapid glance at his visitress convinced Mr. Green that she was -likely to prove no ordinary client: for the elegance of her dress, the -gracefulness of her demeanour, and the dignity of her gait bespoke a -lady of distinction;--and when, on taking the chair which he hastened -to place for her accommodation, she raised her veil, he was struck by -the transcendent beauty of the countenance thus revealed to him. - -“We are alone together, sir,” said the lovely stranger, looking -intently around: “but can listeners overhear anything that may pass -between us?” - -“There is no need of apprehension on that head, madam,” answered Green. -“Speak freely--and without reserve.” - -“I have called upon business of great importance to myself, and which -may prove most lucrative to you,” continued the lady. - -“Before we proceed farther, madam,” said the lawyer, “may I request to -be informed who recommended you to me?” - -“A client of yours who resides in Pimlico, and with whom I am -acquainted,” answered the beautiful woman. “Perhaps you have heard -mention made of my name. I _was_ the Countess of Carignano: but I -presume that, since my husband’s native land has become a Republic and -abolished titles of nobility, I must introduce myself to you as Signora -Barthelma.” - -“I have heard of you, madam,” responded Green: “and I shall be -delighted to number you amongst my clients.” - -“It is for this purpose that I have addressed myself to you to-day,” -observed Laura. “But I must at once inform you that the object of my -visit is scarcely connected with law.” - -“If I can serve you, madam----” began Green, who was completely -fascinated by her beauty and her manners. - -“And serve yourself also?” added Laura: “yes--you can do both! -Know, then, that I cherish a rancourous--burning hatred against two -individuals--father and son--and that the time has now come for me to -wreak my vengeance upon them. The son has just returned from Italy--I -saw his arrival mentioned in this morning’s paper; and not another -day--not another hour can I rest ere a train be laid that must lead to -the explosion of all the happiness they now expect to enjoy.” - -“And who are these persons, madam?” asked Green. - -“Their name is Hatfield--and they reside at the mansion of the Earl -of Ellingham, in Pall Mall,” responded Laura. “I am acquainted with -a terrific secret regarding that family--a secret which would make -the hair of all England’s proud aristocracy stand on end--a secret, -in fine, that now affords me the means of humbling my two mortal -enemies in the dust. Will you, sir, become the instrument of my -vengeance?--will you perform my bidding in all respects? I know that -I ask a great deal--that I am about to involve you in no trifling nor -unimportant enterprise--and that the business does not with propriety -come within the sphere of your professional avocations. But the -recompense shall be most liberal; and I proffer this note for five -hundred pounds as an earnest of my intentions in that respect.” - -Green’s eyes glistened at the sight of this generous gift; and he -hastened to assure Signora Barthelma that he not only undertook her -business with cheerfulness, but would enter into it with as much -enthusiasm as if he were interested in it from personal feeling. - -“I thought that I was not deceived in your character, from what -I had heard,” observed Laura. “For let there be no mistake nor -misunderstanding between us, Mr. Green,” she continued, fixing her -fine, large grey eyes intently upon him: “_you_ have no objection -to make money--_I_ have money to dispense amongst those who serve -me;--_you_ will not feel qualmish nor entertain a maudlin sentiment of -honour in matters that are likely to prove lucrative--and _I_ am ready -to pay handsomely for the assistance which you can render me.” - -“Proceed, madam,” said Green: “we understand each other.” - -“Good!” ejaculated Laura; “and now listen attentively. I am about to -communicate to you secrets of the most startling character; and it is -by the use which must be made of those revelations, that my vengeance -is to be gratified. At the same time you are to act in this matter -without suffering it to be known that you are instigated by me. If -questioned respecting the manner in which you became acquainted with -these tremendous secrets, you must give some evasive reply; and if -my name be suggested as your probable informant, you must declare -boldly that you never even heard of me in your life. For those whom I -am anxious to crush--overwhelm--and cover with confusion, might tell -certain tales of a disagreeable nature concerning myself: but if they -be kept in ignorance that it is I who am in the background, they will -remain silent in these respects. You see that I am candid with you, Mr. -Green.” - -“And that very frankness, madam, renders me the more anxious to serve -you,” answered the unprincipled attorney. - -“Thanks for this assurance,” said Laura, delighted at having found so -ready and willing an instrument to carry out her vindictive designs. -“And now for these tremendous secrets to which I have already alluded! -Learn, then, that the elder Mr. Hatfield of whom I have spoken, and who -is a gentleman apparently of high respectability and enjoying a good -reputation,--learn, I say, that he is in reality none other than the -celebrated highwayman Thomas Rainford of former times! Yes--you may -well start and be amazed, Mr. Green,” continued Laura, emphatically: -“but it is the truth--the solemn truth! And it is nothing to that -revelation which I have next to make. For this Mr. Hatfield, or rather -Thomas Rainford, was the elder son of the late Earl of Ellingham; and, -being legitimately born, he is the rightful possessor of the peerage -and the entailed estates.” - -“This is most wonderful!” ejaculated Green, staring almost stupidly -with amazement. - -“I have yet other revelations to make,” continued Laura, in a tone of -subdued triumph. “Thomas Rainford married a certain Lady Georgiana -Hatfield, and adopted _her_ name. They have a son, whose name is -Charles, and who passes as their nephew, because he is illegitimate. -It is this son whose arrival in London yesterday is announced in this -morning’s journals. The same paragraph which records his return from -Italy, hints at the probability of his shortly leading Lady Frances -Ellingham to the altar. You know the sickening, fulsome terms in -which such matters are glanced at in the department of fashionable -intelligence? But before such marriage shall take place, it is my -purpose to carry woe--desolation of heart--infamy--disgrace--and the -deepest, deepest humiliation into that proud mansion! I care not -that these Hatfields should remain in ignorance of the fact that it -is really I who strike the blow: ’twill be sufficient for me to be -convinced that the blow itself _is_ struck. Do you begin to comprehend -me?” - -“I understand you altogether and completely, madam!” exclaimed Green. -“You would have me repair forthwith to Ellingham House, and by seeking -some cause of dispute with one or more of its inmates, seize the -opportunity to proclaim aloud all the tremendous secrets which you have -just revealed to me. Is not this your purpose?” - -“It is,” responded Laura: then, in a lower but more emphatic tone, -she added, “And take care that the whole proceeding be accompanied -with such circumstances of notoriety, that it must inevitably engage -the attention of the public press. In a word, contrive that all those -revelations shall appear in print, Mr. Green; and a thousand guineas -shall be your recompense!” - -“It shall be done, madam--it shall be done,” answered the lawyer, his -heart exulting at the idea of the munificent reward thus promised. - -“To-morrow I shall visit you again,” said Laura. “But remember, this -affair rests between you and me! Should you ever encounter me when I am -walking or riding out with my husband, you will not appear to know me: -we are strangers to each other everywhere save within the four walls of -this room!” - -“I understand and will obey all your wishes, madam,” returned Green. - -The lovely but vindictive and profligate woman then took her departure; -and the lawyer lost no time in repairing to Pall Mall. - - - - -CHAPTER CCVIII. - -PERDITA, THE LOST ONE! - - -IT was about three o’clock in the afternoon when Laura reached the -villa on Westbourne Terrace; and, having laid aside her bonnet and -handsome furs, she proceeded to the drawing-room, where, as Rosalie -had already informed her, her husband Lorenzo was anxiously awaiting -her presence. - -The fact that he should have stated to the servant his desire that she -would speedily return home, was a proceeding so unusual on his part, -appearing, as it did, to imply annoyance at her absence, that it roused -the haughty temper of the imperious Laura; and for the first time since -their marriage, she wore a frown upon her features when she entered his -presence. - -It was also for the first time that _his_ handsome countenance denoted -a storm raging within his breast, and all the pent-up violence of which -was about to explode against the deceitful, wanton creature into whose -character he had obtained so complete but fatal an insight that morning. - -“You have been asking for me, Lorenzo?” said Laura, in a cold tone, as -she seated herself with an air of exhaustion upon a sofa. - -“Yes, madam--I was most anxious to see you as soon as possible,” -answered the Italian, turning abruptly away from the window at which -he had been standing, and now advancing towards her. “When I came home -an hour ago I was surprised to find that you had been absent since -mid-day.” - -“And pray, Lorenzo, am I to be kept a prisoner in this house?” demanded -Laura, in a tone of unfeigned surprise. “I had certain purchases -to make at different shops--and I went out in the carriage for the -purpose. Permit me to observe that your conduct is undignified in the -extreme, since you so far forget yourself as to express your feelings -to my lady’s-maid.” - -“My God! and were I to proclaim my feelings to the whole world, -there would be but little cause for wonder!” exclaimed the Italian, -vehemently; and as he spoke, he thrust his hand into his bosom, and -clutched a dagger which he had concealed there. - -But his eyes fell upon the countenance of his wife,--that countenance -so glorious in its beauty, though now with the sombre cloud -overshadowing it;--and he would have slain her then and there, had not -his glance thus suddenly embraced all the loveliness of her features -and all the rich contours of her splendid form. For, like a whelming -tide, rushed to his soul a thousand tender reminiscences,--vividly -recalling to his imagination all the joys and delights he had -experienced in her arms--the fervid passion he had seen reflected in -those magnificent eyes--the luscious kisses he had imprinted on those -lips--the wanton playfulness with which her long luxuriant hair had -oft-times swept across his cheeks--the ineffable bliss that had filled -his raptured soul when his head was pillowed on that glowing, swelling -bosom, which now palpitated with haughty indignation,--oh! he thought -of all this, and he felt that he could not slay one so exquisitely -lovely--so transcendently beautiful! - -“Assuredly, your humour is strange to-day, Lorenzo,” said Laura, who, -though longing to make it up with the man whom she really and sincerely -loved, nevertheless was resolved to exact the homage which all women -under such circumstances require--namely, the first overture towards a -reconciliation. “At one moment your eyes glare savagely upon me as if I -had given you some mortal offence;--and now they assume an expression -of pity and commiseration. Come, sir, confess that you have entertained -some outrageous suspicion--that you are jealous of me--and I shall take -the avowal as a proof of affection. Do this,” she added, a faint smile -of encouragement appearing upon her lips, and allowing a glimpse of her -brilliant teeth; “do this, Lorenzo--and I will pardon your unkindness.” - -“Pardon _me_!” exclaimed the Italian, bitterly--for the conduct of his -wife now appeared to him to be aggravated by levity and flippancy of -the most irritating nature, though in reality she was totally ignorant -of the fact that grave and serious charges were agitating in his mind -against her: “pardon _me_!” he repeated, his tone now assuming a -fierceness that began to amaze and even alarm the young woman, whose -conscience, as the reader is well aware, was not the clearest in the -world. “Oh! this is indeed a hideous mockery--a cool, deliberate -insult,” he continued,--“yes--a vile insult, to offer to pardon _me_! -What have I ever done to offend _you_--or merit _your_ forbearance -or _your_ forgiveness? My God! ’tis I who have been generous and -confiding--and ’tis you who have been the gross deceiver and the -unprincipled hypocrite!” - -“These are harsh words, Lorenzo,” exclaimed Laura, rising from the -sofa, and drawing herself up to her full height; and though not tall -in stature, there was nevertheless something regal and majestically -imperious in her air and bearing: “yes--they are harsh words, I -repeat--and they may lead to a quarrel which no subsequent regrets nor -apologies can repair.” - -“Let the quarrel be eternal--or to the very death!” returned Lorenzo, -his handsome countenance now distorted with rage. “Oh! I am sick of -this world with its hideous deceits--its hollow hearts--its boundless -profligacy! I care not how soon I throw off the coil of this life’s -trammels: but with my last breath shall I curse--bitterly, bitterly -curse--the odious name of _Perdita_!” - -“Ah!” ejaculated the guilty woman, now perceiving that she was indeed -unmasked: but almost immediately recovering her self-possession, she -approached her husband and said in her softest, most seductive tones, -“You have heard evil reports concerning me, Lorenzo: and I hope ere -you prejudge me, that I shall be allowed an opportunity to give a full -explanation. Consider my position:--it is that of a friendless and -orphan woman, about to lose, perhaps, the only being on earth whom she -ever loved, or who has ever sincerely loved her!” - -“Oh! how is it that such a demon heart is harboured in such an angelic -form!” cried Lorenzo Barthelma, surveying her for a moment with mingled -pity and admiration: then immediately afterwards, a full sense of all -her tremendous profligacy and deceit springing up in his soul, his eyes -glared upon her with the ferocity of a lynx, and a feeling of deep and -burning hatred took possession of him. - -“If you refuse me a hearing--if you intend to cast me off with -contumely and insult,” said Perdita, her own eyes flashing fire -in their turn--but it seemed like living fire!--“if such be your -intentions,” she continued, in a tone of mingled bitterness and haughty -indifference, “the sooner this interview be terminated, the better.” - -And she advanced towards the door, her bosom heaving with convulsions -almost to bursting from its confinement. - -“No--no--you shall not leave me yet, nor thus!” cried the Italian, -darting after and catching her violently by the arm. “You _shall_ have -the opportunity of explanation which you desire; and God help you in -the task!” - -Thus speaking he forced her back to the sofa; and then locked the door -of the apartment, putting the key in his pocket. - -“This behaviour on your part, signor,” said Perdita, assuming a -composure which she did not--could not feel, “is alike mean and -cowardly. You seek to intimidate me--and that is mean: you use violence -towards me--and that is cowardly. What have you heard against me? -Name the calumniator, and recite the calumnies. But if the accusation -resolve itself into _this_,--that I was frail--weak--unchaste before I -became your wife, remember that I never deceived you on that subject! -You yourself were my paramour before you were my husband; and when -you offered me your hand, I reminded you that it was no virgin-bride -whom you would receive to the bridal-bed. Ere now you called me -_Perdita_--and I admit that such is my Christian name. But am I -responsible for the circumstances which induced my mother to bestow -it upon me? You are doubtless aware, from the same source whence you -have gleaned evil tidings concerning me, that I was born in Newgate, -and that my maternal parent gave me that odious name in a moment of -contrition. Well--is this my fault? Be just, Lorenzo--I do not ask you -to be generous;--but again I say, be just!” - -“I have listened to you with attention, Perdita--and I am bound to -declare that you seek to veil a hideous depravity beneath the most -specious sophistry,” said Barthelma, speaking in a slow, measured -tone, but with a concentrated fury in his soul. “I do not reproach you -for your mother’s crimes--I commiserate you on that score. But I feel -indignant--oh! bitterly, bitterly indignant at all the treachery--the -perfidy you have practised towards me! I knew that you were unchaste, -as you yourself express it--but I believed that it was mere frailty -on your part, and not inveterate profligacy? Oh! Perdita, how dared -you bring to the marriage-bed of an honourable man a body polluted -with all the vice and iniquity of a penal colony, and which had been -for years common as that of the vilest prostitute? I gave you a noble -name--circumstances have robbed it of its aristocratic lustre--but it -is still honourable;--and now how is it menaced? You have lavished -your favours upon hundreds--you have led a life of such frightful -wantonness, young in years as you are, that your soul has grown old -in iniquity! Oh! I know it all--I know everything, Perdita: all the -intricacies of your character are revealed to me--I have read the -mysteries of its darkest depths--and my eyes are at length opened to -the astounding folly that I perpetrated in linking my fate with such as -you!” - -“Then let us separate at once,” exclaimed Perdita, her cheeks flushing -with indignation. “Wherefore prolong this interview? Our quarrel -has gone too far and become too serious ever to admit of pardon or -oblivion.” - -“It is not I who will seek such reconciliation,” returned Barthelma, -with terrible malignity in his tone and manner. “I loved you, -Perdita--God only knows how tenderly, how sincerely, how devotedly I -loved you! I would have died for you,--aye, and should have rejoiced -to surrender up my life, could such a sacrifice have benefitted you! -Confident, frank, and full of generous candour, I gave you the love of -an honourable man;--and you deceived me! Oh! I am now no stranger to -all your syren wiles--your Circean witcheries: I recognise all that -artifice and all that duplicity in many of the circumstances which -marked our first meetings, and which rivetted the chains that you threw -around me. What! do you suppose that I can consent to live and become -the scorn, the laughing-stock, and the scandal of all who know me?--and -think you that I will permit _you_ to go forth into the world and point -me out with taunting finger to the first idiot whom you may win as your -paramour? My God! the thought is maddening--it sears my very brain!” - -And so terrible became the young Italian’s aspect,--with his flashing -eyes, convulsing countenance, and quivering lips,--that Perdita, now -seriously alarmed, rushed to the door, forgetting that it was locked. - -But it opened not to her touch, and, with a cry of terror, she -turned towards her husband, who was evidently exercising superhuman -efforts to restrain the fury that boiled in his breast and darted in -lightning-shafts from his wild eyes. - -“O Lorenzo--Lorenzo!” she exclaimed, joining her hands together; “what -do you mean to do?--what is it that you require of me? My God! I know -that I have been wicked--vile--profligate: but I have been faithful -to you--I have never ceased to love you from the first moment we met! -That day in the Champs Elysées has ever been a bright one--aye, the -brightest on which my retrospective looks could dwell--” - -“That day in the Champs Elysées,” repeated Barthelma, in a low -and hollow tone, “is one accursed in my memory and in my life! -Wretch--profligate--shameless wanton,” he exclaimed, all his infuriate -passion now bursting forth,--“how dare you allude to that day?--how -can you think of it without the crimson blush of shame? For whose sake -did you deck yourself out so meretriciously on that occasion?--whose -jealousy was it to inspire, that you bent your warm and lustful looks -on me that day?--whom to beguile and win back to your arms, perhaps, -was that deceptive note written that induced me, Di Ponta, and Charles -Hatfield--” - -“Ah! then you know every thing!” exclaimed Perdita, suddenly throwing -off the suppliant air and the appealing looks which she had ere now -assumed, and resolving to act with the energy natural to her character. -“It is useless, signor, to prolong this painful interview: I have -already made the same observation--and I now wish you to understand -that I will not remain a prisoner any longer here. Open that door and -let me depart--or I shall summon the servants.” - -Thus speaking, she advanced towards the bell-pull. - -“You menace me--you dare to menace me?” exclaimed Barthelma, springing -forward and confronting her so as to bar the way; and his whole frame -was quivering with a rage that appeared ready to burst forth into the -ungovernable fury of a perfect madness. - -“How dare you thus coerce me?” demanded Perdita, her eyes flashing -fire. “Out of my path, coward--unless you intend to enact the Italian -bravo in this country where men are wont to be brave and chivalrous.” - -And, as she spoke, she pushed him disdainfully aside. - -But ere the eye had time to wink or the heart to palpitate once--and -while a sound, between a cry and a yell, of frenzied rage burst from -the lips of the maddened Barthelma,--his dagger flashed before the -sight of Perdita, and was instantly buried deep in her bosom. - -A thrilling, agonising scream proclaimed her mortal agony--then ceased -suddenly; and, staggering forward a few paces, she fell heavily on the -carpet--and expired! - -Barthelma stood for a few moments rivetted to the spot, silent and -motionless with horror at the deed which he had perpetrated; while in -his soul a revulsion of feeling took place with the whelming rapidity -that marks the ebb of a portentous tide. - -A mortal dread came over him--and then he burst into an agony of -tears; and throwing himself on the still palpitating body of her whose -wondrous beauty had been his pride and his joy, he began to lament her -death in the most passionate terms. - -But suddenly there was a sound as of several footsteps rushing up the -stairs--and then came a loud knocking at the door, and the voices of -the valet, Rosalie, and another servant demanding what was the matter -and what meant the piercing scream that had reached their ears. - -Then Barthelma recollected that, as a murderer, he would receive -a murderer’s doom; and in a moment to his appalled soul started -up all the grim and terrible array of the criminal tribunal--the -executioner--the assembled myriads--and the gibbet! - -All the frenzy of his maddening mind returned;--and tearing forth the -stiletto from the bosom of his slaughtered wife, he plunged it deep -into his own breast. - -At the same instant the door of the apartment was forced in; and the -horror-stricken domestics caught sight of their master just at the -moment that he fell upon the corpse of their mistress! - - * * * * * - -So perished this youthful pair,--each endowed with a beauty of no -ordinary kind! - -Yes--thus died the tender, impassioned Lorenzo, and the profligate, -wanton Perdita! - -The world has seen no loveliness superior to hers, nor known a -depravity more inveterate. - -But was she to be blamed only, and not pitied in the slightest degree? -It were unjust thus to regard her memory:--for, when her eyes first -saw the light, had some kind hand been nigh to receive the innocent -babe--to bear it away from that Newgate-cell which was the ominous -scene of its birth--to rear it tenderly and save it from passing in -the arms of a felon-mother into a penal settlement,--then to foster -and cherish the growing girl with a true maternal care--bend her -mind to the contemplation of virtue, and protect it from all bad -influences--preserve her soul from the effects of vile examples, and -inculcate principles of chastity, rectitude, and religion,--Oh! then -would the prison-born Perdita have given by her conduct a refutation to -her name, and she would have haply excelled in every accomplishment, -every amiable characteristic, and every endearing qualification that -combine like brilliant gems to form for the chaste woman’s brow a -diadem such as angels wear! - -Oh! my Lady Duchess--or you, highborn daughter of some proud Peer -whose line of ancestry may be traced back to the period of the Norman -Conquest,--look not with unmitigated disgust upon the character of -Perdita, the _Lost One_! Let pity temper the feeling;--for--though the -truth which we are about to tell may be not over palatable--yet is the -moral which the Lost One’s history affords deserving of consideration. -Suppose, my Lady Duchess--or you, highborn maiden,--suppose that either -of you had been ushered into this world under such circumstances as -those which attended on the birth of Perdita;--suppose that you first -saw the light in Newgate--that you had been taken by a vile mother -to the far-off place of her exile--that you had been reared where -temptations abounded and virtuous influences were unknown--and that -every example you had before you was evil and profligate,--what would -have been the result? Do not dare to say, my Lady Duchess--or you, -highborn maiden--that an innate perception of right and wrong, and -a natural inclination to virtue, would have preserved you pure, and -chaste, and untainted throughout the terrible ordeal! No--no--you -would have fallen as Perdita fell--you would have been dragged through -the mire of demoralisation as she was--you would have imbibed the -infectious poison of vice as she did,--and, under such circumstances, -you, my Lady Duchess--and you, highborn maiden--would have justified -and illustrated in your own lives the history of the Lost One! - -What, then, do we wish to impress upon our readers?--what do we seek -to impress upon the Legislature and the Government? That it is better -to adopt means to prevent crime, than to study how to punish it when -it is committed. We have a thousand laws which proclaim how a man may -be sent to the treadmill, or to the bulks, or to the penal colonies, -or to the gibbet: but we have none devising measures to keep him away -from those places. Everything is to punish--nothing to prevent. The -codes are crowded with enactments inflicting penalties upon grown-up -criminals,--but do not contain a single statute for the protection of -the children of the poor against contamination. Look at those emaciated -little beings rolling about all day long in the gutters, or eating the -offal off dust-heaps: does the law stretch forth its hand and pluck -them out of that filth which is only too painfully emblematical of the -moral mire in which their minds are likewise wallowing? No: the law -allows them to play on unheeded; but when, a few years afterwards, -these unhappy creatures, who can neither read nor write, and have no -idea of God nor hope nor heaven, pilfer a slice of rusty bacon or a -morsel of cheese from a shop-board in order to satisfy the cravings of -hunger--_then_ does the Law thrust forth its long arm and its great -hand, and seize upon the victims of----what?--its own neglect! - -Yes: those are truths which we are never wearied of insisting upon. -Session after session is frittered away in party squabbles; but what -remedial steps are taken to moralise, christianise, and civilise the -children of the poor? - - -[Illustration] - - - - -CHAPTER CCIX. - -MR. GREEN’S MISSION. - - -In the meantime Mr. Green had taken a cab, and ordered himself to be -driven to the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham in Pall Mall. - -While he was proceeding thither, he threw himself back in the vehicle -and gave way to a variety of pleasurable reflections. He considered -his prospects to be most brilliant; and he believed that he was on -the high road to amass as considerable a fortune as that which his -late master Heathcote had once enjoyed. It was fortunate for him that -he had applied to Jack Rily in the hour of his need: the Doctor had -proved of the greatest assistance to him;--and he resolved to run down -to Woolwich some day and call upon his old friend at the hulks. For -Jack Rily had been tried for the murder of Vitriol Bob, and acquitted -of the capital charge: but he was condemned to two years’ imprisonment -in a convict-ship for manslaughter, the police having appeared to give -him a character which by no means recommended him to the good opinion -of the jury nor the mercy of the Court. As for the immense quantity -of Bank-notes found upon his person at the time of his arrest, he had -positively refused to give any satisfactory account concerning them; -and as no one stood forward to claim them, nor to throw any light upon -this mysterious subject, they were declared to be forfeited to the -Crown on the prisoner’s conviction for manslaughter. - -Pondering upon these and other matters, Mr. Green arrived in due course -at the noble mansion in Pall Mall; and on inquiring for Mr. Hatfield, -he was informed that this gentleman was ill in bed. - -“But my business is of the most urgent character,” said the attorney; -“and I must see him.” - -The domestic to whom this assurance was given, conducted Mr. Green into -a parlour, and hastened to report to the Earl of Ellingham the presence -of the visitor. - -The nobleman accordingly repaired to the room in which Green was -waiting, and represented to him that Mr. Hatfield was too much -indisposed to receive any stranger. - -“If, however,” added the Earl, “you will communicate to me the nature -of the affair which has brought you hither, your object will be gained -as readily as if you saw Mr. Hatfield. He is an intimate friend of -mine--indeed, a bosom friend,” said the nobleman, emphatically; “and we -have no secrets from each other.” - -“I must respectfully decline to open my business to your lordship in -the first instance,” returned Mr. Green. “But I should be glad if your -lordship would witness what I have to say to Mr. Hatfield.” - -“Your card informs me that you are an attorney, sir,” said the Earl -of Ellingham: “may I ask if the object of your visit be of a legal -nature?--because in that case, you would do well to address yourself to -my solicitor.” - -“You must excuse me, my lord,” was the laconic answer, “if I decline -giving any explanations.” - -“Although I consider your behaviour to be far from courteous, Mr. -Green,” said the Earl, “I will communicate to Mr. Hatfield your desire -to have an interview with him; and perhaps, under the circumstances, he -may see you.” - -“Good, my lord,” responded the attorney. “I am in no particular -hurry--and will cheerfully wait an hour or two in order to have the -pleasure of seeing Mr. Hatfield.” - -The Earl of Ellingham forthwith repaired to his half-brother’s -room, and mentioned to him all that had occurred. Mr. Hatfield, -though feeling weak after the long illness which he had experienced, -considered the behaviour of the visitor to be so extraordinary that it -was advisable to grant the interview demanded. - -Lord Ellingham accordingly returned to the parlour, and thence -conducted the attorney to the chamber where Mr. Hatfield was lying in -bed. - -The invalid cast a rapid and searching glance at Green as he entered -the room; but he recognised in the visitor no one with whom he -remembered to have ever been acquainted. - -Scarcely was the door closed, when it opened again--and the Countess of -Ellingham, accompanied by Lady Georgiana, made her appearance: but, on -perceiving a stranger, they both drew back and were about to withdraw. - -“There are no secrets here, ladies--no secrets, I can assure you,” -exclaimed Mr. Green, with a smirking expression of countenance, which, -nevertheless, had a deep malignity in it. - -“In that case, come in,” said Lord Ellingham; and the two ladies -accordingly entered the room. - -“Will you now explain the object of your visit, sir?” asked Mr. -Hatfield, who had observed the sinister aspect which the attorney’s -features had ere now assumed, and who entertained a vague presentiment -of evil. - -“I must begin by informing you,” said Green, taking a seat, and -glancing around on those present, as much as to intimate that he spoke -to no one in particular, but was addressing them all collectively,--“I -must begin by informing you that I am a very extraordinary person in -one respect--which is, that I am constantly ferretting about amongst -old papers, musty documents, and ancient records; and while engaged in -this occupation I frequently light upon strange secrets--very strange -indeed.” - -While he was yet uttering these last words, the rapid look which he -threw around convinced him that he had already made a most unpleasant -impression upon his auditory: for the ladies both turned pale and -started--while the Earl and Mr. Hatfield exchanged glances significant -of alarm. - -“Yes--such is the case,” continued Mr. Green, chuckling inwardly, -though maintaining an external composure: “and amongst the most -singular--the most astounding of the secrets which I have thus dragged -to light, the one that I have discovered in connexion with your -lordship’s family, is not the least remarkable.” - -As he thus spoke, the attorney fixed his eyes upon the nobleman, who -coloured deeply in spite of himself: for it naturally struck him -that Green alluded to matters with which the reader is already well -acquainted. The same apprehension seized upon Hatfield, Lady Georgiana, -and the Countess of Ellingham; and the suspense which the lawyer’s -auditory now endured, was poignant in the extreme. - -“Your lordship can of course conjecture to what I allude,” continued -Green; “and you, Mr. Hatfield,” he added, turning towards the invalid, -“cannot possibly misunderstand me.” - -Lady Georgiana rose from the seat which she had taken on entering the -room, and proceeded to place herself instinctively as it were near the -head of the couch, so as to be close to her husband. It was a movement -which said as eloquently as if her lips had simultaneously explained -it--“This man menaces evil: but I am near to console you with all the -sympathy of a loving wife.” - -“Mr. Green,” exclaimed the Earl of Ellingham, after a few moments’ -reflection, “I appeal to you whether it will not be better that these -matters at which you have glanced should be discussed privately between -yourself and me. Mr. Hatfield has been ill--very ill: and it would be -cruel to excite him at the moment when he is approaching convalescence.” - -“I have already stated to your lordship that whatever communication -I have to make must be in the presence of witnesses,” returned the -implacable Green. “I presume that this lady,” he added, with a gentle -inclination of his head towards the invalid’s wife, “is Lady Georgiana -Hatfield?” - -“You are correct, sir,” observed the lady herself, with a haughty tone -and distant manner. - -“And this lady is the Countess of Ellingham, doubtless?” said Green, -altogether unabashed. - -The beautiful Esther bowed in an affirmative reply. - -“But what mean these questions, sir?” demanded the Earl, impatiently. -“Surely you will not use language that may prove outrageous to the -feelings of ladies who have never offended you?” - -“If the truths which I am about to utter should prove so very -disagreeable to hear, my lord,” responded Green, “they must be equally -unpleasant to cherish in the depths of the soul. In a word, you are -doubtless all too much accustomed to contemplate these truths to be -liable to any startling effect when they are shaped in words and -whispered to the ear.” - -“This is an insolence of behaviour, sir, which I cannot--will not -tolerate,” exclaimed the Earl of Ellingham. “You shall not force your -way into the bosom of a family with a view to play upon their feelings -with a cruelty that is as refined as it is unaccountable.” - -“Very good, my lord,” returned Green, rising from his seat, and taking -up his hat; “I can as easily proclaim from the head of the stairs--or -in the hall of your mansion--every thing I know relative to your -family, as I can talk the matter quietly over with you in this room.” - -And the villain was moving towards the door, when Lord Ellingham caught -him by the arm, saying, “Nay--you must not leave us thus! What object -have you in view?--what use do you propose to make of the secrets which -you have discovered? Speak frankly--candidly--openly: is it money that -you require?” - -A new idea flashed to the mind of Mr. Green, as these words fell upon -his ears. - -By serving Signora Barthelma he would gain a thousand guineas, half of -which sum was already in his possession: he had therefore only another -five hundred to receive--and it was possible that he might obtain as -many thousands by striking a bargain with the nobleman and making a -market of the secrets in his possession. - -“Wherefore does your lordship ask me if I require money?” he demanded, -by way of sounding the Earl’s intentions. - -“Because I am rich enough to bribe you,” was the unhesitating response: -for the nobleman had already formed a pretty accurate idea of the -attorney’s character. - -Green paused--reflected--and began to grow embarrassed. He knew not how -to act--how much to demand--what terms to propose. Fearful of spoiling -all, by carrying his extortionate views too high, he was likewise -apprehensive of losing a large by agreeing to take a small amount. - -The Earl guessed what was passing in his mind; and, pointing to writing -materials that lay upon the table, he said, “Draw a cheque--and I will -sign it.” - -Mr. Green sat down, and with trembling hand wrote a draft for five -thousand pounds. - -Lord Ellingham glanced over it, and immediately affixed his signature -to the document, inserting the names of his bankers in the corner. - -“Stop!” ejaculated Mr. Hatfield, starting up in his couch: “Arthur, -retain that cheque--let not the villain take it!” - -And the Earl of Ellingham instantly obeyed this injunction; while Green -turned, with a countenance livid through rage and disappointment, -towards the invalid. - -“Not one shilling shall this man extort from us!” continued Mr. -Hatfield, powerfully excited. “His story is a fabrication! There are no -documents in existence which can have revealed our family secrets to -him. He has been sent hither by an enemy--and who that enemy is I can -too well divine!” - -“Yes--yes--I understand you!” cried the Earl, the name of _Perdita_ -suggesting itself immediately to his memory: but at the same time he -recollected that neither the Countess of Ellingham nor Lady Georgiana -was acquainted with the secret of that fatal marriage which Charles had -contracted. - -“Vile--despicable tool that you are!” resumed Mr. Hatfield, addressing -himself to the attorney: “I can see through all your conduct as if -your very soul were transparent! The vengeance of an enemy sent you -hither--and the demand which the Earl of Ellingham made respecting your -object, was suggestive of this extortionate deed that you sought to -perpetrate. Begone, sir--do your worst--we fear you not! You may reveal -family matters that may cause pain--but you can do no serious injury: -for if you allude to the secrets which I myself am referring to, your -malignant aim is completely baffled--inasmuch as the documents that -could alone corroborate your assertions, are no longer in existence. I -myself destroyed them!” - -And thoroughly exhausted, Mr. Hatfield sank back upon the pillow. - -At this moment the door was hastily opened; and Clarence Villiers -rushed into the room. - -“Pardon this abrupt intrusion,” he exclaimed, not immediately noticing -Green: “but I have news of some importance--though of horrible -interest--to communicate. That woman Perdita, who ensnared my friend -Charles with her wiles and witcheries, is no more!” - -“Dead?” cried Mr. Hatfield, again starting up in the couch. - -“Murdered--assassinated--and by her own husband!” ejaculated Villiers. -“I was driving past Westbourne Terrace ere now--I saw a crowd--I heard -appalling rumours--I enquired the cause--and I learnt the outline of -the frightful tragedy! She is dead--and Barthelma, her husband, who -destroyed her, has perished by his own hand!” - -“Then Charles is beyond all danger for the future!” exclaimed Mr. -Hatfield;--and again did he fall back on his pillow. - -Lady Georgiana and the Countess of Ellingham hastened to administer -restoratives to the invalid: although they themselves were greatly -excited by the intelligence which had just arrived--for, it will be -remembered, they were aware that Charles had fled from London with an -abandoned woman who had gained a powerful ascendancy over him; and -horrified as they were at the tidings of the murder, they could not -help feeling that all apprehension of a relapse on the young man’s part -into the meshes of the intriguing Perdita, was now suddenly removed. - -While the ladies were ministering to Mr. Hatfield, Clarence Villiers -had turned and recognised Green, who was standing stupefied and -motionless at the sudden news which revealed to him that his fair -client Perdita Barthelma had been murdered! - -“Ah! Mr. Green,” exclaimed Villiers, in astonishment at beholding the -attorney in the room; “what brings you hither?” - -“Do you know this person, Clarence?” demanded the Earl, bending his -looks with mingled indignation and abhorrence upon the man. - -“I have been acquainted with him for many years----” began Villiers. - -“Stop, sir!” cried the nobleman, again seizing the arm of the attorney, -who was making for the door. “Before you leave us, you shall be -thoroughly unmasked in the presence of a gentleman who appears to -address you as a friend.” - -“Let me go, my lord!” exclaimed Green, struggling to get away; for he -knew that Villiers could reveal a secret which would at once place the -infamy of his character beyond question: “let me go, I say--you have no -right to detain me against my will!” - -“You shall remain yet a few minutes!” cried the Earl, holding his -arm with a strong grasp. “This villain,” continued the nobleman, -turning towards Clarence, “came hither as the instrument of that -woman Perdita’s vengeance! That such is the fact, I have no doubt. -But in a short time he changed his character--he began to act a part -for himself--he played the scoundrel on his own account--and he -attempted to extort from me the sum of five thousand pounds, as the -purchase-money for retaining all the secrets which Perdita could alone -have revealed to him!” - -“You offered me the money--and the amount was not extravagant, -considering the purpose for which it was to have been given,” said -Green, glancing anxiously at Clarence Villiers. - -“I told you to name your own terms--and you drew up this draft,” -exclaimed the Earl, exhibiting the slip of paper. - -“Then, by heaven! forbearance in respect to such a man as you, is a -positive crime on my part!” said Villiers, in an excited tone; and, -seizing the wretched attorney by the collar, he cried, “You go not -hence, Mr. Green, save in the custody of an officer, and under an -accusation of forgery!” - -“Forgery!” exclaimed the Earl, in amazement; and at the same time the -ladies and Mr. Hatfield became interested observers of the scene that -was now passing. - -“Yes--forgery, my lord!” cried Villiers, still retaining his hold upon -Green. “This man was left joint trustee with myself, on behalf of a -youth who had a small sum bequeathed to him: the money was sold out -of the funds years ago, my signature to the power of attorney being -forged! That forgery was perpetrated by the villain before you. Some -six months ago he replaced the money--he called upon me--he confessed -the deed--he avowed his contrition--and I promised to shield him. But -now, my lord--_now_, that he dares to set himself up as the persecutor -of those whom I have so many reasons to esteem and revere,--_now_, that -he has ventured to direct his villanies against the peace of an amiable -family,--I cannot--will not--must not spare him!” - -“No, Clarence--you shall keep your promise,” said the Earl; “and -perhaps the man may be moved by gratitude to repentance.” - -“My promise was conditional, my lord,” exclaimed Villiers: “and if -he have represented it otherwise to a living soul, he has uttered a -falsehood. I declared to him at the time that I would forgive him, -provided he undertook to enter upon the ways of rectitude and honesty: -and it is he who has now forfeited his solemn pledge to that effect! No -mercy, then, for this bad--this heartless man!” - -“One word!” cried Green, in a menacing tone. “Fulfil your threat, Mr. -Villiers, and I will at once--without the slightest hesitation or -remorse--proclaim to all the world that the man known as Mr. Hatfield--” - -“Silence, villain!” thundered Clarence: “silence!--or I will strangle -you!” - -“No--no--you shall not coerce me! I _will_ speak out!” cried Green, -struggling to disengage himself from the strong grasp in which he was -held. “Mark what I say--hear me--hear me, all of you! Mr. Hatfield -bears an assumed name--he is the Earl’s eldest brother--the heir to the -title--aye, and also Thomas Rainford, who was hanged at Horsemonger -Lane Gaol!” - -A blow from the clenched fist of Villiers felled the attorney as these -last words burst from his lips;--and at the same instant a wild shriek, -uttered by Lady Georgiana, rang through the room. For Mr. Hatfield had -sunk back upon the pillow, with a low moan and a death-like pallor of -countenance;--and almost immediately afterwards, blood oozed from his -mouth. - -All was now confusion and dismay in the chamber of the invalid: but at -this juncture, Sir John Lascelles made his appearance. A few words, -hurriedly spoken by the Earl of Ellingham, conveyed to the physician -an idea of what had caused the relapse of his patient; and the worthy -man speedily ordered the requisite restoratives. But these were all in -vain:--Mr. Hatfield had broken a blood-vessel internally--and a few -minutes after the arrival of the doctor, he expired without a groan! - - * * * * * - -We must draw a veil over the scene of sorrow which the chamber of death -presented, and which we cannot find words to describe. The intensity -of that anguish was increased by the almost frantic grief of Charles -Hatfield, who, having been out for several hours upon his own and his -father’s business, returned but a few minutes too late to witness the -sad catastrophe. - -He threw himself upon the corpse of his sire--uttered the most -passionate lamentations--and even pushed his mother aside when she -endeavoured to console him. - -But at length a reaction came; and the violence of the young man’s -grief gave way to a profound sorrow,--a sorrow that was deeply, deeply -shared by many other hearts! - -In the confusion that had taken place when Lady Georgiana’s scream -echoed through the room, denoting the occurrence of something -dreadful,--Green had risen from the floor and made his escape, inwardly -cursing himself for having undertaken to become the agent of Perdita’s -vengeance. - -But Villiers, who entertained the most sincere friendship for Mr. -Hatfield, and who was goaded almost to madness by the conduct of the -vile attorney towards the man whom he thus loved as a brother, vowed -that such infamy should not go unpunished. Scarcely, therefore, had the -terrible conviction burst upon all present in the chamber of death, -that Mr. Hatfield was indeed no more, when Villiers rushed franticly in -pursuit of him whom he looked upon as the murderer! - -The chase was successful--and in less than half an hour, Green was in -custody on a charge of forgery! - - - - -CONCLUSION. - - -Our narrative is about to close: but ere we lay aside the pen, a few -observations are requisite in order to render the history of each -prominent character as complete as possible. Several have already been -disposed of: but there yet remain many in whose fate the reader may -feel more or less interested; and we accordingly proceed to sum up -in a few words all the particulars which are wanting to the faithful -accomplishment of our task. - -Mr. Green in due time figured at the Old Bailey, where Clarence -Villiers appeared to prosecute him for forgery; but the prisoner -pleaded guilty in order to obtain the merciful consideration of the -court, and was sentenced to transportation for seven years, instead -of for the term of his natural life. Preparatory, however, to his -expatriation, he was lodged in one of the convict-hulks at Woolwich; -and there he encountered his friend Jack Rily the Doctor, who, -instead of consoling the wretched attorney, only laughed at him for -the tears which he shed and the useless repinings to which he gave -vent. Mr. Green is at this present moment occupied in the healthy but -disagreeable task of repairing the high roads in Van Diemen’s Land, in -company with some of the greatest scoundrels that ever disgraced the -human species; and he even looks back with bitter regret to those times -when he was the oppressed, crushed, and despised instrument of James -Heathcote. Nor was it a source of solace to Mr. Green when one fine -morning, about ten months ago, he recognised the Doctor in a new-comer -who was thus added to the gang of convicts: for Mr. Rily, having -endeavoured to stir up his brethren in the Woolwich hulk to rebellion, -was discovered in the attempt and forthwith packed off to the island -which Nature had in the origin made a terrestrial paradise, but which -the English Government has converted into “a den of thieves.” - -James Heathcote, being utterly ruined by the transfer of all his -property for the benefit of the numerous clients whom he had -robbed,--for this affair was completely carried out by Green’s head -clerk,--was compelled to abandon his fine house and take a humble -office where he strove hard to reconstruct his once extensive -business. But the exposure which his character had received in the -Court of Queen’s Bench, proved a fatal blow to his prospects and an -insurmountable obstacle in his path; and at the end of six months, -being unable to pay his rent, he was turned out of the little nook to -which he had retired, and plunged into the deepest poverty. At this -juncture his brother Sir Gilbert returned to England; and James wrote -him a penitential letter, imploring his succour. The baronet refused -to see him, but generously undertook to allow him two guineas a-week -in order to keep him from starving; and on this pittance--for such it -is in comparison with the wealth he once possessed--the broken-down, -baffled, and dispirited man still subsists in some suburb of the -metropolis. - -The Reverend Mr. Sheepshanks has experienced many ups and downs since -we last saw him at the lunatic asylum in Bethnal Green. It appears -that one evening Dr. Swinton gave a grand supper to the relatives and -friends of his pensioners, who were present on the occasion as usual; -and that previously to the repast being served up, the Doctor had -been holding forth in a highly eulogistic style upon the excellent -qualities, Christian virtues, and profound piety of his chaplain. Now -the Reverend Mr. Sheepshanks was out at the time, the Doctor both -declaring and believing that “the good man had gone to pay his usual -evening visits to the poor in the neighbourhood;” and the guests were -all very anxious for the return of the worthy individual who possessed -such numerous claims upon their esteem, veneration, and respect. But -the truth was--and the truth _must_ be told--that the Reverend Mr. -Sheepshanks, instead of visiting the poor or even dreaming of such -a thing, was smoking his pipe and drinking his gin-and-water at the -_Cat and the Fiddle_ in Globe Town; and as he happened to take an -extra pipe and two extra glasses on this particular occasion, the -fumes thereof became more potent than the odour of sanctity. The -consequence was that on his return to the lunatic asylum, his walk -was so unsteady and irregular that his progress up the gravel walk to -the front door resembled that of a ship tacking about in the Channel; -and when he entered the supper-room, just as the company were sitting -down to the well-spread table, his nose was so red, his cheeks were so -flushed, and his eyes so vacant and watery, that the Doctor inquired -in a tone of bland anxiety if he were unwell? “No, sir--I am quite -well--and I am all right!” was the somewhat savage answer.--“Then -will you have the kindness to ask a blessing, Mr. Sheepshanks?” said -the Doctor.--“No, sir,” responded the pious gentleman: “I will see -you and the blessing at the devil first. You’re drunk, sir--and I’m -ashamed of you.”--It would be impossible to describe the dismay--we -might almost term it horrified amazement--which this peremptory refusal -to say grace, and the scandalous attack upon Dr. Swinton’s sobriety, -produced amongst the guests. The physician himself started up in a -furious rage, forgetful of all his propriety; and applying his right -foot to the proper quarter, he kicked the Reverend Mr. Sheepshanks -ignominiously forth from the lunatic asylum. On the following morning -this pious gentleman, who was endowed with so many Christian virtues, -awoke in a station-house to a sense of his altered position; but -when introduced to the notice of a magistrate for being “drunk and -disorderly, and kicking up a row at Dr. Swinton’s door,” he boldly -proclaimed himself a martyr, and held forth at great length, and in a -peculiar nasal drone, on the vanities of this world. The magistrate -was, however, compelled to cut him short, by inflicting a fine: but -as Mr. Sheepshanks had exhausted all his pecuniary resources at the -_Cat and the Fiddle_ on the preceding evening, he was doomed to extend -his experience of worldly vanities beneath the roof of the House of -Correction. There he found that the treadmill was one of the most -uncomfortable vanities he had ever yet encountered; and the redness -of his nose was considerably subdued by the prison skilly. On his -emancipation at the end of a week, he took up his abode at the house -of a poor widow with whom he was acquainted, and whom he induced to -convert her front-parlour into a receptacle for prayer-meetings. This -succeeded very well for a few months, the congregation being delighted -with Mr. Sheepshanks’ discourse, and a tolerable amount of pence being -collected every evening in furtherance of the pious gentleman’s holy -purpose of supplying the benighted Esquimaux with flannel-jackets -and religious tracts: but the widow proving at length to be in the -family-way, and Mr. Sheepshanks not choosing to wait to have the -paternity of the expected offspring fixed upon his reverend shoulders, -his sudden evaporation from the neighbourhood led to the break-up -of the prayer-meetings and the total ruin of the unfortunate woman. -What became of Mr. Sheepshanks for the next six months, we cannot -say: but one fine Sunday morning he turned up at the Obelisk in St. -George’s Fields, where he addressed a crowd in his usual strain. His -discourse was however suddenly cut short by the presence of the poor -widow, who, wrapped in rags and with a baby in her arms, was begging -in that neighbourhood; and when the reverend gentleman’s delinquencies -were proclaimed by the miserable woman, he was hooted, pelted, and -maltreated all up the Westminster-road, until he managed to escape -from his assailants by diving into one of the narrow streets leading -out of that great thoroughfare. After this affair, the pious man -again disappeared for a season; and when we last heard of him, he had -given up preaching as a trade which he had thoroughly worn out, and -had betaken himself to the highly respectable and cheering avocation -of beating the drum and playing the month-organ--_alias_ pandean -pipes--for a colleague who exhibited a Punch and Judy show. - -We must now direct attention to Captain O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Frank -Curtis. Upon the strength of the handsome pecuniary present made to -them by Lord William Trevelyan, the former forthwith dubbed himself -_Major_; and for the first six weeks after this self-bestowed -elevation, he was under the disagreeable necessity of thrashing his -bosom friend soundly at least once a day for being oblivious of -the new rank and calling him _Captain_. At length he succeeded in -completely beating into the head of Frank Curtis that he was really -a Major; and when they were seated together of an evening over their -whisky-and-water, at some public-house, the gallant Irishman never -failed to recount to his companion all the military services he had -rendered the State, and all the splendours of his paternal mansion -of Blunderbuss Park, Connemara. These statements, though ostensibly -addressed to Mr. Frank Curtis, were really intended for the behoof -of the frequenters of the parlours where they were enunciated; and -the quiet tradesmen into whose ears the flaming narratives were thus -dinned, ended by being particularly proud of the acquaintance of -Major Gorman O’Blunderbuss. At length, what with succulent dinners -at eating-houses and oceans of “potheen” every evening, the sum so -liberally given by Lord William Trevelyan came to a termination; and -the two friends were one day holding a council of war--or rather -sitting in “committee of ways and means”--when a paragraph in the -newspaper informed them that Lady Blunt and her son had been upset in -a boat during an aquatic excursion at Richmond, and drowned “in spite -of all the efforts made by the footman to save them.” Up jumped both -the Major and Frank Curtis in ectasies of joy, dissolving themselves -as a committee then and there by kicking over the table; and away -they sped to the mansion in Jermyn Street. The Intelligence was true: -Lady Blunt and her son were no more;--and the stout footman was -disconsolate. There was no will; and Frank Curtis accordingly found -himself, as if by magic, the heir-at-law to all those possessions -from which his uncle had sought to exclude him years ago. The day on -which the remains of the deceased lady and her son were consigned to -the tomb, was the happiest that Major O’Blunderbuss and his friend -had ever passed in their lives: for the gallant officer resolved to -make a regular Irish wake of it, and the good “potheen” circulated -so rapidly that the assembled mourners alarmed the whole street with -their noise and laughter. And a most refreshing spectacle was it when -Major O’Blunderbuss, with a view to enhance the hilarity of the scene, -kicked the stout footman completely out of the house and tossed his -clothes and wages ignominiously from the window. In the course of a few -days the two friends paid a visit to Mr. Strongitharms, the celebrated -engraver in St. James’s Street, for the purpose of having their cards -printed with their armorial bearings on the top; and when Frank blandly -directed the shopman who took the order to write down in his book the -names of _Mr. Curtis_ and _Major O’Bluntherbuss_, the latter exclaimed -in a tone of mingled indignation and disgust, “Be Jasus! Frank, and -your mimory grows worse and worse ivery day: for, be the holy poker-r! -and isn’t it _Colonel O’Bluntherbuss_ that I am, the new rank being -conferred upon me by her Gracious Majesty for my services in the East -Indies?”--The shopman wrote down _Colonel O’Blunderbuss_ accordingly; -and as a colonel is the gallant gentleman known at the present day. -Reader, if you happen to be passing along Jermyn Street any time in -the evening after five o’clock, you will hear such shouts of laughter -and peals of merriment issuing from one of the houses, that there can -be no mistake as to the identity of that dwelling. We need not tell -you the number of the mansion, because you cannot fail to discover -where Colonel O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Curtis reside by means of the -uproarious sounds that emanate from the front-parlour, in spite of -the closed shutters and heavy draperies. And to tell you the truth, -the neighbours look upon that house as a complete nuisance; and rents -are falling rapidly in the immediate neighbourhood--for quiet old -bachelor-gentlemen, families, and even young blades about town, are -frightened away from the lodgings that are let in the three or four -nearest tenements on either side of the one where the two friends have -settled themselves. But these worthies care nothing for the opinion of -their neighbours and are deaf to all remonstrances: they lead a jolly -life after their own hearts and in their own peculiar fashion--and -to witness them in their happy domesticity, a stranger unacquainted -with their history could not tell that the house and the fortune both -belonged to Frank Curtis, for the Colonel is as much master of both -dwelling and purse as his devoted friend. - -Although Rosalie, the French lady’s-maid, has not performed a very -conspicuous part on the stage of our narrative, we are nevertheless -induced to trace her career up to the present time. Compelled to -appear as a witness at the Coroner’s Inquest which was holden upon -her late master and mistress, she attracted the notice of a young -baronet who attended the proceedings through motives of curiosity: -and as the overtures which he subsequently made her, were far from -displeasing, she accepted them after a due amount of affected -hesitation. The baronet was rich, and provided in a sumptuous manner -for his mistress. He hired and furnished a house for her accommodation -in a fashionable street at the West End--bought her a brougham and pair -of handsome bays--took for her use a box at the Opera--and allowed -her fifty guineas a month for her domestic expenses. In return for -this generosity, she treated him with a capriciousness that would -have been intolerable on the part of a sensible man, but which only -confirmed the insensate spendthrift’s infatuation. Rosalie’s conduct -was a matter of calculation, and not the unavoidable result of a wilful -disposition. She knew that she had only to be kind and winning, in -order to coax him into any extravagant expenditure which would minister -to her enjoyments; and her smiles were thus literally purchased with -gold and diamonds. Six months only did the baronet’s fortune stand -this wanton devastation; and when he could no longer draw cheques for -the sums which she required, she at once accepted the “protection” -of an old nobleman who made her very handsome offers, and who was in -his dotage. But now mark the wayward inconsistency of this woman’s -conduct! The moment she ceased to be dependent upon the baronet, she -conceived a violent affection for him--was never happy save when in -his society--bestowed upon him two-thirds of the money which she -received from the ancient peer--and even stinted herself to supply -his extravagances. She never treated him with the slightest indication -of caprice--but served him as if she were a purchased slave, and he a -Pacha. He gave way to intemperance, and in his drunken freaks would -beat and ill-use her. She endured it all without a murmur, so long as -he would _forgive_ her when he was sober! At length the old nobleman -died one day of indigestion--and Rosalie passed into the keeping -of a Bishop. The Right Reverend Father was one of the most staunch -supporters of all measures for the better observance of the Sabbath. -He hated Sunday trading as something a shade or two worse than wilful -murder--and no one declaimed more eloquently than he against the -steam-boats plying on the Lord’s Day. He even wished to prevent the -railway-trains from running on the Sabbath; and his heart rejoiced -when he read in the newspapers that apple-women, orange-girls, and -shrimp-boys had been taken into custody for attempting to earn a penny -to buy a meal on the “day of rest.” But every Sunday evening this -respectable old prelate made it a rule to dine with his mistress--aye, -and remain with her too until past twelve at night; and heaven only -knows what lying excuses he made to his wife for these intervals -of absence. He was, however, far more stingy towards Rosalie than -the deceased nobleman; and she accordingly cut him in favour of his -Archdeacon, who was as unmitigated an old sinner as himself. Meantime -the baronet continued to be the young woman’s real favourite; and when -he happened to find himself locked up in the Queen’s Bench Prison, she -never failed to visit him every day. Her diamonds--her jewels--her -rings--her very watch she pawned to raise the sum necessary to procure -his release; although the more his temper grew soured by adversity, -the more brutal became his conduct towards her. From the keeping of -the Archdeacon, she passed into that of a wealthy tradesman who had a -splendid establishment in Regent Street. He likewise had a wife and six -children; but he neglected them for the sake of his mistress--and while -he grudged the former even common necessaries, he lavished all his -gains upon the latter. At length he learnt that Rosalie was constantly -visited by the baronet; and he broke off the connexion. No admirer -immediately appearing to supply his place, the Frenchwoman wrote a very -pretty letter to the Bishop, complimenting him upon his last speech -against Sunday-trading, and declaring how much pleasure she should -experience if he would honour her with a visit. The invitation was -irresistible--the prelate went--and the result was that Rosalie once -more became his mistress. The renewal of their connexion has not since -been interrupted; and the baronet is still the object of the young -woman’s affection--still the recipient of two-thirds of all the money -she can obtain--and still the only person in the world who would dare -to raise his hand against her. - -For nearly a year after his attempted suicide, the Marquis of Delmour -lived happily with his wife, the past being buried in oblivion. Lady -Delmour devoted herself to her husband as far as her own blighted and -crushed affections would permit; and she at least had the supreme -felicity of witnessing the unalloyed happiness which was experienced -by Lord William Trevelyan and the lovely Agnes, who were united about -six months after the reconciliation of the young lady’s parents, the -consent of the Lord Chancellor being obtained to sanction the marriage. -But in the summer of 1847 the Marquis of Delmour was seized with a -sudden and alarming illness; and in spite of the unwearied attentions -of Sir John Lascelles and Lady Delmour, the old nobleman succumbed to -the tyrant sway of Death. Upwards of a year has elapsed since that -event; and we observe by a recent paragraph in the newspapers that the -Marchioness has bestowed her hand upon Sir Gilbert Heathcote. - -Lord William Trevelyan and Agnes are as happy as mortals can hope to -be on earth. Their mode of life is somewhat secluded--for it is in -each other’s society that their enjoyment of existence consists. Their -charity is unbounded, but bestowed privately and unostentatiously; -and although you will never hear the name of Lord William Trevelyan -proclaimed from the platform of Exeter Hall, amidst a list of liberal -subscribers to Missionary Societies and other legalised swindles and -robberies of the same class, yet rest assured that many and many a poor -family has reason to bless that good nobleman and his amiable wife. - -Timothy Splint, _alias_ Tim the Snammer, continues the occupant -of a fine farm in the backwoods of the United States: indeed, the -property has spread out to an extent which renders the denomination -of “estate” the more correct one. Joshua Pedlar and his wife have -prospered equally well in Canada; and they are now in possession of a -large mercantile establishment at Quebec. Mrs. Bunce is dead: but her -husband still resides at Saint Peter’s Port in Guernsey, and earns -a very comfortable livelihood. Jeffreys leads a steady, industrious -life at Liverpool, where he has became a substantial merchant, and -is deservedly respected. Had all these persons been consigned to the -horrors of transportation to a penal colony, their redemption from sin -would have become an impossibility: but when placed in a condition -to earn an honourable independence, even _murderers_ may be put to a -better use than hanging them like dogs, or sending them into the midst -of a vile community where their example would only produce a deeper -demoralisation. - -Poor Mr. Bubbleton Styles, having failed in getting up his Railway -Company, was compelled to pass through the Insolvents’ Court; and -during the eighteen months which have elapsed since that event, he has -turned his attention to at least a dozen different occupations. On his -discharge from the process of white-washing in Portugal Street, he -became a wine-merchant: but finding that this market was completely -glutted, he entered the coal and coke trade--with may be a little -dealing in slates as a necessary adjunct thereto. This speculation not -succeeding “for want of capital,” Mr. Styles turned drysalter--then -town-traveller for an ale-brewer--then commission-agent for a house -in the woollen line--and then something else. But none of these -occupations answering his purpose, and hearing of the good luck which -had befallen his friends O’Blunderbuss and Curtis, he put on his last -clean shirt and paid them a visit. His reception was not at first very -encouraging, inasmuch as the gallant Irishman commenced by knocking -him down and bunging up his right eye, for the simple reason that Mr. -Styles was unaware of that formidable gentleman’s elevation to the rank -of _Colonel_, and had called him _Captain_: but when explanations took -place, complete harmony was restored; and the worthy Bubbleton, having -been made uncommonly drunk by his two friends, received a cheque for a -hundred guineas to enable him to begin the world again. He has made the -recommencement accordingly, and seems in a fair way to get a living by -adhering to one particular occupation instead of having a hundred upon -his hands at the same time. - -Clarence Villiers and Adelais continue to reside at Brompton. They -are well off in a pecuniary point of view; and though the ardent love -of their youth has mellowed down into a deep attachment, still are -they as happy in each other’s society as they were in those days when -the marriage-state was as yet new with them. And often and often, -when seated together of an evening, do they speak with never-failing -gratitude and regret of poor Tom Rain! - -Our readers will doubtless recollect the manuscript which Lord William -Trevelyan discovered at the lunatic-asylum in Bethnal Green, and -which recorded the experiences of a victim to that detestable system -of quackery which the law allows. We may as well observe that in the -course of a short tour which the young nobleman and his wife took to -the south of France, a few months back, Trevelyan encountered Mr. -Macdonald, the author of that lamentable history. This gentleman had -completely recovered his mental equilibrium, and was living in a -strict but happy seclusion with his Editha and their son. Trevelyan -communicated to him the circumstances under which he had found the -manuscript, and the motives which had induced him to convey it away -from its place of concealment in the mad-house. Macdonald expressed -his fervent gratitude for the young nobleman’s generosity; and the -papers were consigned to the flames. We will not mention the name of -the town where Mr. Macdonald is residing: for, were we guilty of such -imprudence, the extortioner would be assuredly sent after him. - -We have now to speak of the inmates of Ellingham House. Reader, the -family circle there is as happy as the mournful reminiscence of Mr. -Hatfield’s sudden death will permit. Charles has become the husband -of the beautiful and accomplished Lady Frances; and the youthful pair -continue to dwell at the Earl’s mansion. Lady Georgiana is likewise -a permanent resident beneath the same roof; and her son amply repays -her by his affectionate devotion for any temporary uneasiness or -grief which he might have caused her at the lamentable period of his -connexion with Perdita. Sir John Lascelles is a frequent visitor at -the mansion in Pall Mall; and we need scarcely add that he is always a -welcome guest. - -The Republic of Castelcicala flourishes under the free institutions -which General Markham gave it. It is the Model-State in Europe; and -appears to be the solution of a problem whether it is possible for -honest rulers, a conscientious legislature, and a democratic system to -extirpate poverty from a country, and make an entire people contented, -free, and prosperous. There the Rights of Labour are recognised in -all the plenitude of industry’s claims: there no man who is willing -to work, can possibly starve. Mendicity is unknown throughout the -Republic; and when the Castelcicalans read paragraphs translated from -the English papers into their own prints, and detailing how men, women, -and children _die of starvation_--aye, and very frequently too--in the -British Islands, they say to each other, “It is a hideous mockery to -pretend that true freedom has any existence _there_!” - -But, thank God! the tide of liberal sentiments is rolling rapidly over -Europe--sweeping away the remnants of feudal barbarism--levelling all -oppressive institutions--compelling tyrants to bend to the will of -the masses--and giving such an impulse to enlightened notions as the -world never saw before. And may that tide still flow on with unabating -force--not wearing off the asperities of barbaric systems by degrees, -but whirling all abuses away at once and in a moment;--not proceeding -without certainty or uniformity, like a stream that is sometimes free -and sometimes checked--but rushing on in a channel that is broad -and deep;--not here diverted from its course by some obstacle--nor -there dammed up until the weight of its waters break down the -impediment,--but rolling on with a mighty and irresistible volume, and -expanding into a glorious and illimitable flood! - - -THE END. - - -[ADVERTISEMENT.] - -The Proprietor of the “MYSTERIES OF LONDON,” having, at present, -an opportunity of carrying out his original design--viz. that of -presenting the public with faithful and unexaggerated sketches of -every class of society forming the “world of London,” has determined -upon submitting to his readers a NEW SERIES of the “MYSTERIES OF -LONDON,” and which will be from the pen of a writer of the most eminent -reputation, - - -THOMAS MILLER, ESQ., - -AUTHOR OF “ROYSTON GOWER;” “FAIR ROSAMOND;” “LADY JANE GREY;” “GODFREY -MALVERN;” “PICTURES OF COUNTRY LIFE;” “RURAL SKETCHES;” “BEAUTIES OF -THE COUNTRY;” “A DAY IN THE WOODS;” “THE POETICAL LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS;” -“THE BOY’S YEAR BOOK;” POEMS, ETC. ETC. - -This NEW SERIES will be entitled “MYSTERIES OF LONDON; OR, LIGHTS AND -SHADOWS OF LONDON LIFE.” - -THE FIRST NUMBER WILL APPEAR ON WEDNESDAY, 20th SEPTEMBER. - - -London: WALTER SULLY, Printer, “Bonner House,” Seacoal Lane. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - - -[1] See the First Series of “THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON.” - -[2] See Chapter LIX. - -[3] See Chapter LXIV. - -[4] See last paragraph of Chapter LXV. - -[5] See Chapter LXXIX. - -[6] This was when Rainford quitted the packet-ship at Guernsey, and -commenced his career as the Blackamoor. - -[7] See first paragraph, second column, page 28, of this Volume of the -Second Series. - -[8] “An obscure threepenny print, called the _Daily News_, published in -its impression of November 2nd, an article purporting to be a notice -of the leading works belonging to the sphere of Cheap Literature, but -in which a vile, cowardly, and ruffian-like attack was made upon Mrs. -Reynolds’s novel of ‘GRETNA GREEN.’ The article alluded to appeared in -the evening of the same date in the _Express_, a paper made up from the -contents of the other, but of whose existence we were totally unaware -until the occurrence of the matter in question. The attack, though -evidently written by some silly boy, was so savage and malignant, and -was made up of such a pack of atrocious lies, that it became necessary -to take some kind of notice of it, although neither the _Daily News_ -nor its evening reflex enjoy a circulation or an influence sufficient -to effect the amount of mischief which the dastardly scribe sought to -accomplish. Our solicitors were accordingly instructed to write to the -Editors of the _News_ and _Express_, requiring a complete contradiction -to the libel, or menacing an action as the alternative. The letter -which our legal advisers despatched was a gentlemanly and talented -remonstrance, which soon brought the stupid Editors of the _Daily News_ -and the _Express_ to reason. Bradbury and Evans, the proprietors of -those threepenny prints, shook in their shoes at the idea of an action, -they already having enough law business on their hands in consequence -of their treatment of Messrs. Powell and Wareing:--and, accordingly, -the _News_ and _Express_ ate their own words, on Tuesday, Nov. 9th, in -the following terms:-- - -“‘We have received a letter, protesting against Mrs. S. F. Reynolds’ -work of “GRETNA GREEN” being included in that list of popular works -described as marked by “looseness, warmth of colouring in criminal -scenes, and the false glow cast around guilty indulgencies.” We must -admit that “GRETNA GREEN” does not merit this; and that, whatever its -faults it certainly contains nothing derogatory to the character or -delicacy of a lady writer.’ - -“Now let our readers mark well the atrocity of the proceeding on the -part of the _News_ and the _Express_. They first denounce ‘GRETNA -GREEN’ in the strongest terms: they are afterwards compelled, _by -the fear of law proceedings_, to ’admit that “GRETNA GREEN” does not -merit this, and that it contains nothing derogatory to the character -or delicacy of a lady writer.’ Then how dared the wretched scribe -to act such a miscreant’s part as to accuse a lady of writing with -’looseness,’ when he must have known the charge to be unfounded? He -told a downright, deliberate, wilful lie: he has proclaimed himself, -and likewise admitted himself to be, an abominable liar! And as such we -denounce him. - -“But of what value can criticisms of the _News_ and _Express_ be, when -a contemptible scribe is thus allowed to make the columns of these -prints the vehicle for his own beastly malignity? What authority can -belong to a reviewer who is obliged to say on the 9th of November, -‘I was guilty of a foul, cowardly, and unjustifiable calumny against -a lady’s character on the 2nd of November.’ And these two papers -belong to men who are so very particular that they turned off their -sub--editors. Messrs. Powell and Wareing, because, forsooth, these -gentlemen gave insertion to a particular bankruptcy case which the -bankrupt himself had written to implore Bradbury and Evans _not_ to -publish! - -“We hope the contemptible slanderer who ‘does the criticisms’ for the -_News_ and _Express_ will treat his readers (two grown-up persons and -a small boy for the _News_, and the small boy without the grown-up -persons for the _Express_) with an account of the origin, progress, -and present condition of those threepenny things. If so, he must -state how the _News_ first came out at five-pence with the intention -of smashing every thing,--how Charles Dickens was the man entrusted -with the obstetric process of introducing this phenomenon to the -world,--how froth was never so frothy, and vapouring never so vapoury, -as when the bills, placards, and advertisements appeared,--and how -the mountain at last brought forth a mouse! In fact, no failure was -ever more miserable--more ludicrous--more contemptible than that of -the _Daily News_. When a friend once spoke of his uppermost garment to -Brummell, the ‘exquisite,’ laying his finger upon the collar thereof, -said, ‘Do you call this thing a coat?’--and when the _News_ first -came out, people held it up between the tips of their forefinger and -thumb, and asked each other innocently, ‘Do you call this thing a -newspaper?’ Well, after continuing remarkably sickly for some time, -and seeing the utter folly of hoping to compete with the established -daily newspapers, Bradbury and Evans--dear, kind, worthy souls!--said -one morning to each other, ‘This will never do: the public will not be -gulled--we must really sell our wares at what they are worth;’--and so -down went the price of the _News_ to twopence-halfpenny! ‘Hurrah for -the _cheap_ newspaper press!’ vociferated they who now affect to look -down with contempt on cheap literature altogether: and forthwith they -fetch Mr. Dilk all the way from the _Athenæum_ office in Wellington -Street to manage their paper for them. And such management as it has -been! Mr. Dilk knows about as much of newspapers in general as he does -of courtesy in the _Athenæum_ in particular;--and Bradbury and Evans -very soon found that a twopenny-halfpenny daily thing was ‘no go.’ The -price is accordingly raised to threepence; and, just to eke out by hook -and by crook, the _Express_ is issued as an evening paper, its contents -being precisely those of the _News_, with perhaps half-a-dozen lines of -new matter just to make a show under the head of ‘Latest Intelligence.’ -Thus has the _Daily News_ been tinkered about in all shapes and -ways, with the hope of establishing it on some kind of basis or -another;--and, after such a career, it fancies itself to be respectable -and influential enough to undertake the duties of Mentor! But it has -entrusted the office to a disgusting twaddler who scruples not to -season his mawkish composition with diabolical lies, as a make-shift -for ‘Attic salt.’ However, enough of this for the present:--we have -compelled the _News_ and the _Express_ to acknowledge themselves to be -slanderers;--but we are afraid that after all they have got the better -of us, inasmuch as they probably provoked us only for the purpose -of obtaining _a gratuitous advertisement_ through the medium of any -reply which might be made to them in THE MISCELLANY.”--_Reynolds’s -Miscellany, No. 56._ - -[9] The readers of the First Series of “THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON” will -recollect the character of Lady Adeline Enfield in the “History of an -Unfortunate Woman.” Lady Caroline Jerningham is drawn expressly in -contrast with that heroine,--one of the objects of “THE MYSTERIES OF -LONDON” being to depict the good and the bad--the generous and the -selfish--of all classes of society. - -[10] Fact. - -[11] Fact. This incident shows how the Ministers of the Established -Church will at times unscrupulously set the laws of the land at -defiance. - -[12] Equivalent to “Miss” in English. - -[13] The Industrious classes in Great Britain should take into their -serious consideration the ensuing plan, which the operatives in France -have submitted to the Provisional Government. The basis of a similar -scheme might be established in London; and there are doubtless many -persons, possessing the intelligence required for the initiative -of the grand work, who would devote a few hours per week, without -fee or reward, to the foundation of so glorious an institution. The -plan alluded to is conceived as follows; but we have substituted the -equivalent sums of English money for the French coins specified in the -original document;-- - -“Petition for a bill to establish a National Pension Fund for every -workman that has attained the age of fifty-five years. - -“Every citizen of the two sexes from seventeen to fifty-five years of -age shall be bound to pay each day one farthing, or 7½_d._ per month, -or 7_s._ 6_d._ per annum; every town or village shall be bound to pay -for the totality of its inhabitants. - -“Every workman employing workmen or servants is bound to keep back this -amount from their wages, and is to be considered responsible therefore. - -“Every father of a family who is unfortunate, and has several mouths to -support, shall be _de jure_ exempted from paying his annual quota until -such time as his family shall be able to work. - -“Are excluded from the advantages of the pension-fund all persons -having a revenue above 32_l._ a year; the most severe laws to be made -against such persons as should rob the money of the poor. - -“A scale of pension is to be fixed, giving 20_l._ a year at 55 years, -28_l._ at 65 years, and 44_l._ at 75 years. - -“The pension-fund is to be for all citizens: thus bankers, notaries, -advocates, in a word, all persons who may have been favoured by fortune -all their life-time, will have as much right to it, if they become -unfortunate, as the workman who all his life-time has known only labour -and privation. - -“What workman is there who cannot save 1¾d. per week? Who is there -that would not blush to receive alms when age shall have weakened his -strength and courage? - -“The pension which he will receive will be the economy of his whole -life; and if he throws a glance backwards, it will be to bless the -progress of civilisation. - -“The day on which this law will pass, the payment of the pension -may commence; since from the age of 17 to 55 all citizens will -contribute to the common stock; and since the funds, in place of being -capitalised, will be distributed every year. During 15 years the State -will have little to add in order to complete the pensions, but after -that period it will every year have some sacrifice to make. Let, during -the fifteen years, the money hitherto spent on royalty be capitalised. -Let the resources of the Civil List be added to them, and the sum will -be more than sufficient. If fears are entertained not to obtain a sum -sufficient to pay all the pensions, let the diamonds of the crown be -sold. The most glorious crown of a government aught to be the happiness -of the people.” - -[14] Witness the noble conduct of the Parisian operatives, as described -in the following extract from the _Constitutional_ newspaper:-- - -“We have already stated that by the care of the Minister of the -Interior prompt measures had been taken to ensure the preservation -of the furniture and other articles of value at the Tuileries. The -following are some further details:--The citizen Chalon d’Argé, one -of the special commissaries appointed by the minister, after having -concerted with Captain St. Amand, commandant of the Tuileries, -proceeded to an inventory of the jewels, objects of art, &c., found -there. These gentlemen soon ascertained that the people had respected -the various articles scattered about. The apartment of the Duke de -Nemours had alone been thrown into disorder, but nothing was taken -away. The apartments of the other members of the royal family remained -intact. Not a picture was touched in the saloons of the late Duke of -Orleans, containing, as they did, a celebrated collection. The most -valuable pictures were taken to the Louvre, under the direction of M. -Mérinée. A great quantity of coined money was found in the different -apartments; a man of the people conceived the idea of throwing all this -money into a baignoire, over which he placed a coverlet, so as to give -it the appearance of a couch. He then placed himself on it, and waited -in that position until some persons came up who could save the treasure -which he had collected. To give an idea of the wealth thus preserved, -we may state that on Saturday alone four fourgons, and on Sunday two -others, transported to the Treasury masses of silver plate, as well -as coffers containing the diamonds of the ex-princesses. In these -fourgons there was property to the amount of several millions. The same -people which had contributed to save these valuable articles helped -to pack them up, and escorted them to the national Treasury. It was a -touching sight to behold these hard hands taking up with the greatest -precautions diamonds, necklaces, jewels of all kinds. It is useless to -say that not an article in the inventory was missing. When M. Bastide -and M. Bixio, who had been entrusted by the Provisional Government to -take charge of the jewels and other valuable property left behind in -the Tuileries, and which had been collected and packed up by men of the -people, and an inventory taken of them under the superintendence of a -student of the Polytechnic School, and a National Guard, the Government -commissioners found the chests, trunks, and other packages in which -they had been placed, under the charge of some of the people who had -been employed in collecting them. When the whole were removed, one of -the men went up to M. Bastide, and said, ‘_Sir, we have been forgotten -since yesterday. It is now twelve o’clock, and we have not yet -anything to eat. Can you order me some bread?_ All present were deeply -affected by this proof of disinterested fidelity to men, resisting the -temptation of property at their command greater in value than any they -had ever before seen, and demanding a piece of bread as their only -reward. M. Bastide repeatedly urged the man who spoke to him to give -his name, but he constantly refused, saying--‘_We want nothing more. -We can earn our food by our labour. To-morrow we shall return to work, -and to-day ask only for the bread we have been unable to obtain._’ They -were then fed, and took their departure with the same resolution.” - -[15] At the “monster meeting” in Trafalgar-square, on Monday, March -6th, we were called upon to preside in the absence of Mr. Cochrane. -The _London Telegraph_ contained the ensuing sketch or outline of the -speech which we delivered on that occasion, and which we now transfer -to the pages of “THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON” simply for the purpose of -convincing our readers that we are not afraid to proclaim in all -possible ways the opinions which we have for years promulgated through -the medium of our writings:-- - -“Mr. Reynolds rose, and, suggesting that the parties present should -form a meeting to congratulate the Parisians on their recent triumph, -addressed the meeting. He had been voted to preside at this assembly, -in the absence of Mr. Cochrane. Where that gentleman was, he could not -say. His conduct was, at least, extraordinary, in convening a meeting -which he neglected to attend. He (Mr. Reynolds) must beg of the meeting -to be orderly; it was moral force which would gain their ends for them. -Let them, therefore, show that, though met to demand their rights, they -knew how to conduct themselves. The French revolution was a glorious -triumph of public feeling. The French had recognised the rights of the -working-classes. What the people of this country wanted was, that every -man who was willing to work and fit for work should have work to do. -(Loud cheers.) The working-classes only wanted fair wages. They were -willing to give the fair value of labour for them. (Hear.) The right -of labour had been recognised in France; and the rights of labour must -be recognised in England. Let them not take the leading articles of -aristocratic newspapers as the public voice; but let them listen to -the shout which they would now hear from thousands of people met to -express their adhesion to the principles of liberty. (Loud cheers). -This meeting had been called to oppose the income-tax. Let them show -by their cheers that they were opposed to all oppressive taxation. -But let them be peaceable. Let there be no disturbance. Let them -show the police and the Government-spies in plain clothes, that the -working-classes of England could conduct themselves in a quiet orderly -manner when met to discuss their wrongs. Mr. Reynolds sat down amidst -the most vociferous cheering.” - -In the evening of the same day we attended another “monster meeting” -held on Clerkenwell Green, on which occasion the following outline of -the speech which we delivered was given by the _London Telegraph_ and -other newspapers:-- - -“Mr. Reynolds, the well-known author, next spoke at some length. -He drew attention to the meeting which had taken place that day in -Trafalgar-square, and commented on the aggressive conduct of the -police. The time, he also contended, was come, when they ought no -longer to mince matters. (Cheers.) The people of France had really done -their duty, and it now remained with the people of this country to do -the same. They were bound to demand their rights by every moral means; -and if they were forced to have recourse to bloodshed, their oppressors -would have to account for the result, not themselves. (Cheers.) He -rejoiced at the exhibition of feeling that had taken place in France. -(Cheers.) The people had raised a man to power, who had turned round -and sought, by a large array of armed forces, to crush them. (Groans.) -They, however, he rejoiced to find, gave him his deserts, and hurled -him from his throne. (Cheers.) He was now in this country--an exiled -villain. (Cheers.) Far, indeed, was it from him (the speaker) to -wish that the tyrant should be molested or disturbed while suffering -in a foreign land the pangs of remorse. No; he wished him to remain -harmless and in insignificance. (Hear, hear.) But he did not see why -the gallant and noble people of France were to be insulted by the -feelings of sympathy which Her Majesty and some other personages were -exhibiting towards the exiled tyrant (Hear.) He complained of this, -and particularly that the people of England should be identified with -the anti-liberal opinions of those persons. (Hear, hear.) What, if -the gallant people of France were to be so exasperated as to declare -war against this country, would the hard-working people of England, -Scotland, and Ireland consent to be war-taxed became of the caprice -of a number of individuals--(no, no)--who, while wallowing in luxury, -had no sympathy whatever with the masses of their fellow-creatures -suffering from sickness and starvation? Mr. Reynolds, at some length, -very ably and forcibly dwelt on the evils of class-legislation, and -showed, from his writings, that he had ever been the friend of the -working-men. He concluded, amidst much cheering, by proposing the first -resolution.” - -[16] Letting the thieves know that he was aware of the fact of the -robbery, and demanding a portion for himself. This is a common practice -amongst thieves; and the claim of the person thus “declaring on” is -seldom disputed, even though he had nothing to do with the robbery. - -[17] Share of the plunder. - -[18] This mighty warrior _ran away_ from London when danger was -apprehended in consequence of the glorious democratic meeting of -250,000 enlightened working men, at Kennington Common, on the 10th of -April, 1848. - -[19] The memorable day of the 10th of April, 1848. - -[20] With deep sorrow and indignation we have frequently noticed -blackguard boys and dirty vagabonds insult private soldiers in the -streets. Nothing can be more reprehensible than such conduct as this; -but we are sure that the British soldier is too enlightened and too -generous-hearted to suppose that any respectable working-man would -treat him with indignity. There is and ought to be a deep sympathy -between the military and the operative-classes,--both alike being -diabolically oppressed by the aristocratic and wealthy classes, and -both having rights to claim, privileges to acquire, abuses to rectify, -and tyranny to subdue. In the name of common sense and common justice, -let no insult ever be offered to the private soldier who conducts -himself properly. - -[21] It may seem astonishing how any respectable journals could be -induced to lend themselves to such disgraceful puffery: but we will -give our readers some little explanation upon the subject. The fact -is that the quacks pay in the first instance for the insertion of the -puffs as “paragraph-advertisements,” and then quote them as being the -editorial opinions of the newspapers in which they are thus inserted! -We quote from some of the quack-advertisements a few specimens of these -“_ad captandum_” notices:-- - - “The task of preparing and producing the work entitled * * * - *, by Messrs. * * *, though apparently not one of magnitude, - demands a most intimate acquaintance with the mysteries of a - profession of the highest character. To say that the author - has produced a volume which cannot be otherwise considered - than as a treasure, and a blessing to the community, is not - saying too much; and being written by a duly qualified medical - practitioner, its pages give evidence of the results of much - personal investigation, and great researches in the study of - medicine. In a word, the work has merits which develope no - superficial attainments, and we cordially and most earnestly - recommend it for general perusal.--_Weekly Chronicle._” - - “To the gay and thoughtless we trust this little work will - serve as a beacon to warn them of the danger attendant upon - the too rash indulgence of their passions; whilst to some it - may serve as a monitor in the hour of temptation, and to the - afflicted as a sure guide to health.--_Chronicle._” - - “Their long experience and reputation is the patient’s - guarantee, and well deserves for the work its immense - circulation.--_Era._” - - “This is a medical publication, ably written, and developes the - treatment of a class of painful maladies which has too long - been the prey of the illiterate and the designing.--_United - Service Gazette._” - - “The author of this singular and talented work is a legally - qualified medical man, who has had considerable experience - in the treatment of the various disorders arising from the - follies of early indiscretion. The engravings demonstrate the - consequences of excesses, and, by its perusal, many questions - may be satisfactorily replied to that admit of no appeal, even - to the most confidential friend.--_Era._” - -To explain more fully still the proceedings of the quacks and the -artfulness of quackery, we refer our readers to the _Weekly Dispatch_ -of Sunday, July 2; and at the bottom of a column (not in the regular -advertising department) will be found the ensuing advertisement:-- - - “[ADVERTISEMENT.]--Holloway’s Pills an excellent Remedy for - Indigestion, Bilious and Liver Complaints.--All painful and - distressing sensations arising from these complaints (which are - too well known to sufferers to require a description here of - their symptoms) may be easily removed by a few doses of this - inestimable medicine; for such is its efficacy, that the most - debilitated constitutions are effectually strengthened, and - the aversion to motion overcome, thus giving buoyancy to the - spirits, creating an appetite, and promoting digestion. At this - season, when epidemics are so prevalent, these pills should be - taken, as they surpass every other remedy as a preventative - of disorders, even of the most malignant kind. Sold by all - Druggists, and at Professor Holloway’s Establishment, 244, - Strand, London.” - -This advertisement was of course duly paid for: but Mr. Holloway may -now, if he choose to do so, quote the _Dispatch_ as having recommended -the efficacy of his medicines to “strengthen the most debilitated -constitutions;” and the public, trusting to such a powerful and honest -authority as the _Dispatch_, will be induced to purchase the pills. Our -readers can now comprehend how the medical quacks obtain reviews of -their obscene books. - -[22] Luck. - -[23] Piece of luck. - -[24] Money. - -[25] In a publication entitled _The Medical Adviser_, and issued some -years ago, we find the following observations relative to quacks and -quackery:--“The legislators in almost every civilized society have -considered them as pests and a disgrace to every country where they -are to be found, and penal laws have therefore been enacted for the -suppression of quackery. The Colleges of Physicians were instituted in -different kingdoms of Europe, to examine all persons who undertook the -practice of the art, to inspect all drugs in the apothecaries’ shops, -and destroy such as were unfit; and there can be no doubt but their -power extended to the examinations of nostrums in general, and on their -report, the vendors were subject to severe penalties. In the reign of -James I., an order of council, grounded on former laws, was issued -for the apprehension of all quacks, in order to their being examined -by the censors of the College of Physicians; on that occasion several -mountebanks, water-tasters, ague-charmers, and vendors of nostrums -were fined, imprisoned, and banished. This wholesome severity, it may -be supposed, checked the evil for a time; but in the reign of William -III. it became again necessary to put the laws in force against these -base vermin and miscreants, in consequence of which many of them, -when examined, confessed their utter ignorance to such a degree, as -to be unable either to read or write; others, it was found, had been -attempting to procure abortion in unfortunate single women; several of -them were discovered to be fortune-tellers, match-makers, frauders, -pimps, and bawds; some of these miscreants were set in the pillory, -some put on horseback with their faces to the horse’s tail, with -their noses and lips slit, and their necks decorated with a collar of -urinals, and afterwards whipped, imprisoned, branded, and banished.” - -The victims of quacks might even now show the scoundrels, if they -chose, that there are laws in existence fully strong enough to punish -them; and we should advise those who have been plundered to state their -cases to their solicitors. It is intolerable that the public should be -prayed upon by a set of villains who live in splendid mansions, ride in -their carriages, and maintain luxurious tables at the expense of the -unfortunate dupes whom their advertisements entrap. - -Several years ago, Mr. Charles Dunne, a surgeon, presented to -Parliament a petition against Quackery; and in that well reasoned -document we find the ensuing paragraph, which, we feel convinced, our -readers will peruse with interest:-- - -“That the mal-practices of quack doctors are wisely guarded against -in every country of Europe, except Britain; for no person (under -pain of fine and imprisonment), is allowed to take the charge of the -sick, or even to direct the application of medicines, without having -gone through the proper ordeals of examination as to his professional -knowledge and acquirements. In England it is notorious that we have not -only carpenters, tailors, bricklayers’ labourers, lead-pencil-makers, -Jews old clothes men, journeymen, linen-drapers, and men of colour, -but even women quacks, who practise their duplicities on the unwary -and unthinking part of the public, by plundering all those who have -the folly to approach them, whilst many are absolutely deprived of -life by them, and others, who have the misfortune to escape death, -are left to drag on a miserable existence with an entirely broken -constitution for the remainder of their days. The baneful effects, too, -of patent medicines, as they are called, deserve particular notice, -the composition of which is formed in such a manner as to render their -administration at all times dangerous, and but too often fraught with -death; whereas, on the Continent, no medicines (similar to those with -us called patent) are permitted to be sold, without first having been -analyzed by the constituted chemical authorities, and duly examined by -the respective faculties of medicine. It is clear from what occurs in -law, divinity, and physic, that a foundation or competent education -by a course of study, is essentially necessary to exercise any of -these different departments, and whoever exercises them without this -education cannot possibly do it with advantage to the community. For -an unscientific knowledge of the treatment of any disease, even if -occasionally successful in its object, can never be trusted to; for if -any unforeseen circumstance should arise, such practitioner can neither -avert the mischief, nor find means to relieve the patient, as a man of -real science would do;--mere experience alone, devoid of science, can -have no other claim on public notice than as empiricism, and, like a -seaman, incapable of taking an observation when anything inauspicious -occurs at sea, is unable to direct his course. Empiricism in all -professions being the opposite to science, and directed by no regular -principle but the knowledge of one or two isolated facts, is evidently -hostile to the advancement of liberal principles, and too often ruinous -to those confiding in such hollow pretensions. Empiricism, therefore, -in religion, law, politics, and physic, is the hydra to be guarded -against, as the bane of real knowledge and improvement; and wherever -encouraged, such empiricism is always subversive of the best interests -of mankind. The great object of legislation should be to impose a -wholesome restraint on any attempt calculated to overstep the just and -fair bounds, which the welfare of the people requires.” - -[26] Flash, or fictitious, notes. - -[27] Pass off, or change. - -[28] Dark lanthorn. - -[29] A crow-bar used by burglars. - -[30] Burglary. - -[31] Eliza Sydney. See First Series of “THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON.” - -[32] This was the case with the celebrated Watt, the improver of -the steam-engine. He was driven from the city of London, at the -commencement of his career, through his inability to pay the fine, -then amounting to 40_l._ This fact remains on record to the immortal -disgrace of the Corporation. - - -[Transcriber’s Note: - -Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.] - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mysteries of London, v. 4/4, by -George W. M. 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