EGERTON'S LAST DINNER PARTY.
We have already stated that Egerton was deeply affected by the result of
the imposture which he had practised upon his relations. During the
drive back to London, his four friends—Dunstable, Cholmondeley,
Harborough, and Chichester—vainly endeavoured to rally him: he was
silent and thoughtful, and replied only in monosyllables.
On their arrival at Stratton Street, Egerton took leave of his friends
at the door without inviting them to enter; but they were not so easily
disposed of. They urged him to accompany them to some place of
amusement: he remained inaccessible to their solicitations, and firmly
declared his intention of passing the remainder of the evening alone.
They were at length compelled to leave him—consoling themselves with the
hope that he would "sleep off his melancholy humour," and rise in the
morning as pliant and ductile in their hands as ever.
The four gentlemen had not long departed, when Major Anderson called at
the house; and having represented to the servant that his object was an
affair of some importance, he was admitted into the drawing-room where
Egerton was lying upon the sofa.
"At length I find you alone, Mr. Egerton," said the Major. "I have
called every evening for the last few days, and have never until now
been fortunate enough to learn that you were at home."
"To what am I to attribute the honour of this visit?" asked the young
man, whom it struck that he had seen the Major before—but when or where
he could not remember.
"Pardon me if, ere I reply to that question, I pause to observe that you
survey me with some attention," said Anderson; "and I can divine what is
passing in your mind. You think that my features are not altogether
unknown to you? I believe this to be the case—for you have seen me
before. Indeed I should have begun by thanking you—most gratefully
thanking you for that generous intention on your part which was
interrupted at the door of the St. James's Club-House——"
"Ah! I recollect!" cried Egerton, starting up from his reclining
position. "But——"
"Again I can read what is passing in your mind," observed the Major,
with a smile; "and I can appreciate the delicacy which made you thus
stop short. You notice the change that has taken place in my appearance?
Yes—my circumstances are indeed altered; and from a wandering mendicant,
I have become a gentleman once more. But that change has been effected
by the very individual whose interposition on that night to which I have
just now alluded, prevented you from exercising your intended
benevolence towards me."
"And that individual was the Prince of Montoni," said Egerton.
"Oh! then you know him by sight——"
"I knew him not, otherwise than by name, until that evening,"
interrupted Egerton; "and it was from Sir Rupert Harborough and Mr.
Chichester that I learnt who the stranger was."
"Ah! his Highness has good cause to remember them also!" cried Anderson,
to whom the Prince had related his entire history a day or two
previously.
"Indeed," exclaimed Egerton, "I now recollect that they seemed alarmed
at his presence, and mentioned his name with trepidation."
"Well might they do so!" said the Major, indignantly. "But the Prince
himself will explain to you those particulars to which I allude."
"The Prince—explain to me!" cried Egerton.
"Yes: my object in calling upon you is to request that you will either
visit the Prince as soon as convenient, or appoint a day and an hour
when his Highness may visit you."
"Oh! I should be indeed joyful to form the acquaintance of that
illustrious hero of whom every Englishman must feel proud!" exclaimed
Egerton, with the enthusiasm that was natural to him. "Valour,
integrity, and the most unbounded humanity are associated with the name
of Richard Markham. But upon what business can the Prince be desirous to
honour me with his acquaintance?"
"_That_ his Highness will himself explain," was the reply. "What hour
will you appoint for to-morrow to wait upon the Prince at his own
residence?"
"I will be there punctually at mid-day," answered Egerton.
"And in the meantime," said Major Anderson, after a moment's hesitation,
"it will be as well if you do not mention to those persons with whom you
are intimate, the appointment which you have made."
"I understand you, sir," rejoined Egerton: "it shall be as you suggest."
The Major then took his leave; and Egerton—who entertained a faint
suspicion of the object which the Prince had in view—received
consolation from the idea that his illustrious fellow countryman
experienced some degree of interest in his behalf.
That suspicion was engendered by the known philanthropy and anxiety to
do good which characterised Markham; by the allusion made by Anderson to
certain explanations which the Prince intended to give relative to
Harborough and Chichester; and also by the injunction of secrecy in
respect to the appointment that had been made.
Well knowing that his four friends would not fail to visit him early
next day,—and determined that they should not interfere with his visit
to one whose acquaintance he so ardently desired to form,—Egerton
repaired to an hotel, where he passed the night.
On the following morning he was greatly surprised, and to some extent
shocked, to read in the newspaper the tidings of the fearful
conflagration which had not only destroyed Ravensworth Hall, but in
which the lady who owned the mansion had herself perished.
"And there likewise is entombed the mystery of the dead body!" said
Egerton, as he laid aside the paper.
His toilette was performed with great care; and, punctual to the moment,
the young man knocked at the door of Markham Place.
He was conducted into an elegantly furnished apartment, where the Prince
advanced to receive him in a most kind and affable manner.
"You will perhaps imagine that I have taken a very great liberty with
you, Mr. Egerton," said Richard, "in requesting you to call upon me in
this manner; but when you are made acquainted with my motives in seeking
the present interview, you will give me credit for the most sincere
disinterestedness. In a word, I consider it to be my duty to warn you
against at least two of those persons who call themselves your friends."
"My lord, I was not unprepared for such an announcement," said Egerton,
in a deferential manner.
"Then is my task the more easy," exclaimed Richard. "I allude to Sir
Rupert Harborough and Mr. Chichester, the latter of whom assumes the
distinction of _Honourable_."
"And is he not of noble birth, my lord?" inquired Egerton.
"He is the son of a tradesman," answered Markham. "But that is no
disgrace in my estimation: far from it! The industrious classes are the
pillars of England's greatness; and I for one would rather walk
arm-in-arm along the most fashionable thoroughfare with the honest
mechanic or upright shopkeeper, than boast of intimacy even with a King
who is unworthy of esteem and respect."
Egerton surveyed with unfeigned admiration the individual from whose
lips these noble sentiments emanated—sentiments the more noble, inasmuch
as they were expressed by one whose rank was so exalted, and who stood
so high above his fellow-men.
"Yes," continued Markham, "your friend Mr. Chichester is one of those
impostors who assume title and distinction as well to aid their
nefarious courses as to gratify their own grovelling pride. I do not
speak with malignity of that man—although I once suffered so much
through him: for were he to seek my forgiveness, heaven knows how
readily it would be accorded. Neither is it to gratify any mean
sentiment of revenge that I now warn you against these two individuals.
My present conduct is dictated by a sense of duty, and by an ardent
desire to save a young and confiding young man, as I believe you to be,
from the snares of unprincipled adventurers."
"Oh! now a light breaks in upon me," exclaimed Egerton; "and I recognise
in the actions of those whom I lately deemed my friends, all the
designing intrigues to which your Highness alludes! Fool that I was to
be thus deceived!"
"Rather thank heaven that the means of redemption have arrived ere it be
too late," said the Prince, impressively; "for I can scarcely believe,
from all I have heard concerning you, that your affairs are in a state
of ruin which admits of no hope."
"Your Highness argues truly," exclaimed Egerton: "I have yet sufficient
resources remaining to furnish me with the means of an honourable
livelihood."
"Then you need scarcely regret the amount you have paid for the purchase
of experience," said the Prince. "But allow me to place in your hands
proofs of the iniquity of Sir Rupert Harborough and his friend. Behold
these two documents! They contain the narrative of as foul a scheme of
turpitude as ever called the misdirected vengeance of the law upon an
innocent victim. The first of these papers is the confession of an
engraver whom Harborough and Chichester made the instrument of that
project which at one time covered my name with so dark a cloud. You seem
astonished at what I say? Oh! then you are ignorant of that episode in
my chequered life."
"Never have I heard rumour busy with your lordship's name, save to its
honour and glory," observed Egerton, in a tone of convincing sincerity.
"Peruse these papers—they will not occupy you many minutes," returned
our hero, after a temporary pause. "The second document, which I now
hand you, only came into my possession this morning: it was signed
yesterday afternoon, by Sir Rupert Harborough and Mr. Chichester——"
"Yesterday afternoon, my lord!" cried Egerton. "Those gentlemen were in
my company—at a short distance from London——"
"At Ravensworth Park," said Richard, with a smile. "You see that I know
all. It was indeed at that very mansion—which, as you are doubtless
aware, was reduced to ashes during the night—that this confession was
drawn up and signed by your two friends. The engraver, whose name is
appended to the first of those papers, was led by accident to
Ravensworth Hall; and there he encountered the two adventurers who had
once made him their instrument—their vile tool! He compelled them to
draw up and sign that second paper, which you hold in your hands, and
which, through gratitude for some trifling act of kindness that I was
once enabled to show him, he obtained by working on their fears.
Scarcely an hour has elapsed since I experienced the satisfaction of
receiving that document from him; and my delight was enhanced by the
conviction that he is now an honest—a worthy—and a prosperous member of
society."
Egerton perused the two confessions, and thereby obtained a complete
insight into the real characters of Sir Rupert Harborough and Mr.
Chichester. If any doubt had remained in his mind, this elucidation was
even more than sufficient to convince him that he had only been courted
by his fashionable friends on account of his purse; and heart-felt
indeed was the gratitude which he expressed towards the Prince for
having thus intervened to save him from utter ruin.
[Illustration]
But how was that gratitude increased, and how profound became the young
man's horror of the course which he had lately been pursuing, when
Richard drew a forcible and deeply touching picture of the usual career
of the gambler,—importing into his narrative the leading incidents of
Major Anderson's own biography, without however specifying that
gentleman's name,—and concluding with an earnest appeal to Egerton
henceforth to avoid the gaming-table, if he hoped to enjoy prosperity
and peace.
"Would you rush madly into a thicket where venomous reptiles abound?"
demanded the Prince: "would you plunge of your own accord into a forest
where the most terrible wild beasts are prowling? would you, without a
sufficient motive, leave the wholesome country and take up your abode in
a plague-stricken city? No: and it would be an insult to your
understanding—to that intelligence with which God has endowed you—to put
such questions to you, were it not for the purpose of conveying a more
impressive moral. For the gaming-house is the thicket where reptiles
abound—it is the forest where wild beasts prowl, ravenous after their
prey—it is the city of pestilence into which one hurries from the
salubrious air. Pause, then—reflect, my young friend,—and say whether
the folly of the gambler be not even as great as his wickedness?"
Egerton fell at our hero's feet: he seized the Prince's hand, and
pressed it to his lips—covering it also with his tears.
"You have converted me, my lord—you have saved me!" cried the young man,
retrospecting with unfeigned horror upon the desperate career which he
had lately been pursuing: "Oh! how can I express my gratitude? But you
may read it in those tears which I now shed—tears of contrition for the
past, and bright hopes for the future!"
Richard raised the penitent from his kneeling posture, saying, "Enough!
I see that you are sincere. And now listen to the plan which I have
conceived to shame the men who have been preying upon you; for such
punishment is their due—and it may even be salutary."
The Prince then unfolded his designs in this respect to Egerton; but it
is not necessary to explain them at present. Suffice it to say that the
young man willingly assented to the arrangement proposed by one on whom
he naturally looked at his saviour; and when the scheme was fully
digested, our hero conducted his new friend into an adjoining apartment,
where luncheon was served up.
Egerton was then enabled to judge of the domestic happiness which
prevailed in that mansion where virtue, love, and friendship were the
presiding divinities of the place.
The faultless beauty of the Princess Isabella,—the splendid charms of
Ellen,—and the retiring loveliness of Katherine, fascinated him for a
time; but as the conversation developed the amiability of their minds
and evinced the goodness of their hearts, he learnt that woman possesses
attractions far—far more witching, more permanent, and more endearing
than all the boons which nature ever bestowed upon their countenances or
their forms!
Old Monroe was present; and while he looked upon our hero with all the
affection which a fond father might bestow upon a son, the Prince on his
part treated him with the respect which a good son manifests towards an
honoured father. Between Markham, too, and Mario Bazzano the most
sincere friendship existed: in a word, the bond which united that happy
family was one that time could never impair.
* * * * *
Three days after the event just recorded, Albert Egerton gave a
dinner-party at his lodgings in Stratton Street.
The guests were Lord Dunstable, Colonel Cholmondeley, Sir Rupert
Harborough, and Mr. Chichester.
The dinner-hour was seven; and, contrary to the usual arrangements, the
table was spread in the drawing-room, instead of the dining-room, which
was behind the former, folding doors communicating between the two
apartments.
Let us suppose the cloth to have been drawn, and the dessert placed upon
the table.
The wine circulated rapidly; and never had Egerton appeared in better
spirits, nor more affably courteous towards his friends.
"Well, I really began to suppose that you had determined to cut us
altogether," said Dunstable, as he sipped his wine complacently. "For
three whole days we saw nothing of you——"
"Have I not already assured you that I was compelled to pass that time
with my relatives, in order to appease them after the exposure at
Ravensworth?" exclaimed Egerton.
"And we have accepted the apology as a valid one," observed Chichester.
"Upon my honour," said the baronet, "if I had known you were doing the
amiable on Finsbury Pavement, I should have called just to help you in
your endeavours to regain the favour of those excellent ladies."
"I am afraid your reception would have been none of the best,
Harborough," exclaimed Colonel Cholmondeley.
"I must confess that the old lady was terribly enraged," said Egerton;
"not only against me, but also against you all, as she looked upon you
as my accomplices in the cheat."
"Well, we must take some opportunity of making our peace in that
quarter," observed Lord Dunstable. "I will send her a dozen of champagne
and a Strasburg pie to-morrow, with my compliments. But what shall we do
to pass away an hour or two?"
"What shall we do?" repeated Chichester. "Why, amuse ourselves—as
gentlemen of rank and fashion are accustomed—eh, Egerton?"
"Oh! decidedly. I am willing to fall in with your views. You have been
my tutor," he added, with a peculiar smile; "and the pupil will not
prove rebellious."
"Well said, my boy!" cried Dunstable. "Have you your dice-box handy?"
"My rascal of a tiger has lost it," answered Egerton. "But I know that
the baronet seldom goes abroad without the usual implements."
"Ah! you dog!" chuckled Sir Rupert, as if mightily amused by this sally.
"You are, however, quite right; and I do not think that any fashionable
man about town should forget to provide himself with the means of the
most aristocratic of all innocent recreations. Upon my honour, that is
my opinion."
"Just what my friend the Duke of Highgate said the other day—even to the
very words," exclaimed Dunstable.
"How singular!" observed the baronet, as he produced a box and a pair of
dice.
"By the by, Dunstable," said Egerton, "you promised to introduce me to
his Grace."
"So I did, my dear boy—and so I will. Let me see—I shall see the Duke on
Monday, and I will make an appointment for him to join us at dinner
somewhere."
"The very thing," said Egerton: "I shall be quite delighted—particularly
if his Grace be one of your own sort."
"Oh! he is—to the utmost," returned Dunstable, who did not perceive a
lurking irony beneath the tranquillity of Egerton's manner.
"I am glad of that," continued the young man. "If I only knew three or
four more such gay, dashing, good-hearted fellows as you all are, I
should be as contented as possible. By the way, Chichester, I will tell
you a very odd thing."
"Indeed! what is it?" inquired that gentleman.
"Oh! nothing more than a strange coincidence. Just this:—I told you that
I had been staying a day or two with my respected aunt on the Pavement.
Well, yesterday I wandered through the Tower Hamlets—merely for a
ramble—and without any fixed purpose: but, as I was strolling down Brick
Lane—a horrid, low, vulgar neighbourhood——"
"Dreadful!" cried Chichester, sitting somewhat uneasily on his chair.
"Oh! terrible—filthy, degrading," continued Egerton, emphatically. "You
may therefore conceive my surprise when I perceived the aristocratic
name of _Chichester_ painted in huge yellow letters, shaded with brown,
over a shop-front in that same Brick Lane."
"How very odd!" ejaculated Chichester, filling himself a bumper of
champagne.
"Yes—but those coincidences of course _do_ occur," said the baronet,
who, after eyeing his host suspiciously, saw nothing beneath his calm
exterior to indicate a pointed object in raising the present topic.
"And what made the thing more ludicrous," continued the young man, "was
that over the aristocratic name of _Chichester_ hung three dingy yellow
balls."
"Capital! excellent!" exclaimed the gentleman whom this announcement so
particularly touched, and who scarcely knew how to cover his confusion.
"Yes: I had a good laugh at the coincidence," said Egerton. "At the same
time I knew very well that there could be nothing in common between Mr.
Chichester, the pawnbroker of Brick Lane, and the Honourable Arthur
Chichester of the fashionable world."
"I should hope not, indeed!" exclaimed Chichester, reassured by this
observation.
"Come—take the box, Egerton," said Sir Rupert Harborough.
"Oh! willingly," replied the young man. "But we must play on credit,
because I have no money in the house; and he who loses shall pay by
cheque or note of hand."
"With pleasure," said the baronet.
The two gentlemen began to play; and Egerton lost considerably. He,
however, appeared to submit with extraordinary patience and equanimity
to his ill-luck, and continued to chatter in a gay and unusually jocular
manner.
"Seven's the main. Come, Dunstable, fill your glass: the wine stands
with you. By the by, has your rascally steward sent you up your
remittances yet? You know you were complaining to me about him the other
day."
"No—he is still a defaulter," returned the young nobleman, laughing.
"And likely to continue so, I'm afraid," added Egerton. "But where is
that estate of yours, old fellow?"
"Oh! down in the country——"
"Yes—I dare say it is. But where?"
"Why—in Somersetshire, to be sure. I thought you knew _that_," cried
Dunstable, not altogether relishing either the queries themselves or the
manner in which they were put.
"That makes seven hundred I owe you, Harborough," said Egerton. "Do pass
the wine, Chichester. Five's the main. Let me see—what were we talking
about? Oh! I recollect—Dunstable's estate. And so it's in Somersetshire?
Beautiful county! What is the name of the estate, my dear fellow?"
"My own name—Dunstable Manor," was the reply; but the nobleman began to
cast suspicious glances towards his friend.
"Dunstable Manor—eh? What a sweet pretty name!" ejaculated Egerton. "And
yet it is very strange—I know Somersetshire as well as any one can know
a county; but I do not recollect Dunstable Manor. How foolish I must be
to forget such a thing as that."
With these words, he rose from the table and took down a large volume
from the book-case.
"What are you going to do?" inquired Dunstable, now feeling particularly
uneasy.
"Only refreshing my memory by a reference to this _Gazetteer_," answered
Egerton, as he deliberately turned over the pages of the book.
"Oh! come—none of this nonsense!" exclaimed Dunstable, snatching the
volume from Egerton's hands. "Who ever thinks of reading before
company?"
"It would be rude, I admit," said Egerton, recovering the volume from
the other's grasp, "were we not such very particular and intimate
friends—so intimate indeed, that we have one purse in common between us
all five, and that purse happens to be the one which I have the honour
to carry in my pocket."
"Egerton, what _is_ the matter with you?" demanded Lord Dunstable, who
was now convinced that something was wrong.
"Matter! nothing at all, my dear boy," answered the young man, as he
continued to turn the leaves of the volume. "Here it is—Somersetshire—a
very detailed account—not even the smallest farm omitted. But how is
this? Why—Dunstable Manor is not here!"
"Not there!" cried the nobleman, blushing up to his very hair.
"No—indeed it is not!" rejoined Egerton. "Now really this is a great
piece of negligence on the part of the compiler of the work; and if I
were you, Dunstable, I would bring an action against him for damages.
Because, only conceive how awkward this would make you appear before
persons of suspicious dispositions. Well—_upon my honour_, as the
baronet says—this coincidence is almost as extraordinary as that of the
pawnbroker in Brick Lane."
While Egerton was thus speaking, his four friends exchanged significant
glances which seemed to ask each other what all this could possibly
mean.
"Yes—suspicious people would be inclined to imagine that the Dunstable
estate was in the clouds rather than in Somersetshire," proceeded
Egerton, who did not appear to notice the confusion of his guests. "But
the world is so very ill-natured! Would you believe that there are
persons so lamentably scandalous as to declare that our friend
Chichester is no more an _Honourable_ than I am, and that he really is
the son of the pawnbroker in Brick Lane?"
"The villains!" cried Chichester, starting from his seat: "who are those
persons that dare——"
"Wait one moment!" exclaimed Egerton: "it is my duty as a sincere friend
to tell you each and all what I have heard. Those same scandalous and
ill-natured people exceed all bounds of propriety; for they actually
assert that Sir Rupert Harborough has for years been known as a
profligate adventurer——"
"By God, Mr. Egerton!" cried the baronet: "I——"
"And they affirm in quite as positive a manner," continued the young
man, heedless of this interruption, "that you, Dunstable, and you too,
Cholmondeley, are nothing more nor less than ruined gamesters."
"Egerton," exclaimed the Colonel, foaming with indignation, "this is
carrying a joke too far."
"A great deal too far," added Dunstable.
"It really is no joke at all, my lord and gentlemen," said the young
man, now speaking in a tone expressive of the deepest disgust: "for
every word I have uttered is firmly believed by myself!"
"By you!" cried the four adventurers, speaking as it were in one breath.
"Yes—and by all the world," exclaimed Egerton, rising from his seat, and
casting indignant glances upon his guests.
"This is too much!" said Cholmondeley; and, unable to restrain his
passion, he rushed upon the young man, seized him by the collar, and
would have inflicted a severe chastisement on him had not assistance
been at hand.
But the door communicating with the dining-room was suddenly thrown
open, and the individual who now made his appearance, threw himself upon
Cholmondeley, tore him away from his hold upon Albert Egerton, and
actually hurled him to the opposite side of the apartment.
"The Prince of Montoni!" ejaculated Harborough, as he rushed towards the
door, with Chichester close at his heels.
But the Prince hastened to intercept them; and, leaning his back against
the door, he exclaimed, "No one passes hence, at present. Mr. Egerton,
secure those dice."
Dunstable darted towards that part of the table where the dice lay; but
Egerton had already obtained possession of them.
Richard in the meantime locked the door, and put the key in his pocket.
"Be he a king," cried Cholmondeley, who had caught the words uttered by
the baronet, "he shall suffer for his conduct to me;"—and the Colonel
advanced in a menacing manner towards the Prince.
"Beware, sir, how you place a finger on me!" cried Richard. "Approach
another step nearer, and I will lay you at my feet!"
The Colonel muttered something to himself, and retreated towards the
folding-doors communicating with the dining-room; but there his way was
interrupted by the presence of two stout men in plain clothes and two of
Richard's servants in handsome liveries.
"Let no one pass, Whittingham," said the Prince, "until our present
business be accomplished."
"No, my lord," answered the old butler, who was one of the stout men in
plain clothes: then, having given the same instructions to the two
servants in livery, Whittingham exclaimed in a loud tone, "And mind, my
men, that you on no account let them sneaking willains Scarborough and
Axminster defect their escape!"
"My lord, what means this conduct on your part?" demanded Dunstable of
the Prince. "By what authority do you detain us here as prisoners?"
"Yes—by what authority?" echoed Cholmondeley, again stepping forward.
"By that authority which gives every honest man a right to expose
unprincipled adventurers who are leagued to plunder and rob an
inexperienced youth," answered Richard, in a stern tone. "Mr. Egerton,
give me those dice."
This request was immediately complied with; and the _other stout man in
plain clothes_ now stepped forward from the dining-room.
To the infinite dismay of Harborough and Chichester, they immediately
recognised Pocock, who did not, however, take any notice of them: but
producing a very fine saw from his pocket, he set to work to cut in
halves one of the dice which Richard handed to him.
The four adventurers now turned pale as death, and exchanged glances of
alarm and dismay.
"Behold, Mr. Egerton," said the Prince, after examining the die that had
been sawed in halves, "how your false friends have been enabled to
plunder you. Heaven be thanked that I am entirely ignorant of the
disgraceful details of gamesters' frauds; but a child might understand
for what purpose this die has been thus prepared."
"_Loaded_, your Highness, is the technical term, observed Pocock. "That
scoundrel there," pointing to Chichester, "once told me all about them
things, at the time I was leagued with him and his baronet friend."
"I hope your Highness will not make this affair public," said Lord
Dunstable, his manner having changed to the most cringing meekness.
"Egerton—you cannot wish to ruin me altogether?"
"Would you not have ruined me?" inquired the young man, bitterly.
"Oh! what a blessed day it is for me to be a high-witness of the
disposure of them scoundrels Marlborough and Winchester!" ejaculated the
old butler, rubbing his hands joyfully together. "Send 'em to Newgate,
my lord—send 'em to Newgate—and then let 'em be disported to the spinal
settlements, my lord!"
"Pray have mercy upon _me_—for the sake of my father and mother!" said
Dunstable, whose entire manner expressed the most profound alarm. "Your
Highness is known to possess a good heart——"
"It is not to me that you must address yourself," interrupted Markham,
in a severe tone. "Appeal to this young man whom you have basely
defrauded of large sums—upon whom you have been preying for weeks
past—and whom you have tutored in the ways that lead to
destruction:—appeal to him, I say—and not to me."
"I am entirely in the hands of your Highness," observed Egerton, with a
grateful glance towards the Prince.
"Then we will spare these men, bad and unprincipled though they be,"
exclaimed Richard: "we will spare them—not for their own sakes,
Egerton—but for yours. Were it known, through the medium of the details
of a public prosecution, that you have been so intimately connected with
a gang of cheats and depredators, your character would be irretrievably
lost; for the world is not generous enough to pause and reflect that you
were only a victim. Therefore, as you are determined to retrieve the
past, it will be prudent to forego any criminal proceedings against
those who have made you their dupe."
"Your Highness has spoken harshly—very harshly," said Lord Dunstable;
"and yet I feel I have deserved all that vituperation. But this leniency
with which your lordship has treated me—and _your_ forbearance,
Egerton—will not have been ineffectual. I now see the fearful brink upon
which I stood—and I shudder; for had you resolved to drag me before a
tribunal of justice, I would have avoided that last disgrace by means of
suicide."
The young nobleman spoke with a feeling and an evident sincerity that
touched both our hero and Egerton; but Cholmondeley turned away in
disgust from his penitent friend, and Harborough exchanged a
contemptuous look with Chichester.
"Lord Dunstable," said Markham, in an impressive tone, "your conduct has
been bad—very bad; but much of its blackness is already wiped away by
this manifestation of regret and contrition. Do not allow that spark of
good feeling to be extinguished—or destruction must await you. And above
all, I conjure you to avoid the companionship of such men as those who
have even now by their manner scoffed at your expressions of
repentance."
"Farewell, my lord," returned the young nobleman, tears trickling down
his cheeks: "the events of this evening will never be forgotten by me.
Egerton, take this pocket-book: it contains the greater portion of the
last sum of money that I borrowed of you; and I shall never know peace
of mind, until I have restored all of which I have been instrumental in
plundering you."
With these words, Dunstable bowed profoundly to the Prince, and hurried
from the room, without casting a single glance upon his late
confederates in iniquity.
"My lord, isn't Newgate to become more familiarly acquainted with them
scrape-graces Aldborough and Winchester?" asked the old butler, as soon
as Dunstable had disappeared from the room.
"Were it not that I had promised this honest and grateful man," said the
Prince, turning towards the engraver, "that no criminal proceedings
should be instituted on the document that he obtained from you, Sir
Rupert Harborough, and from you also, Mr. Chichester, I should consider
myself bound, in justice to myself and as a duty owing to society, to
expose in a public tribunal the black artifices by which you once
inveigled me into your toils. But for his sake—for the sake alike of his
personal security and of the good character which he now enjoys—I must
leave your punishment to your own consciences. And, though scoffing
smiles may now mark the little weight which my prediction carries with
it in respect to you, yet rest assured that the time _will_ come when
your misdeeds shall be visited with those penalties which it may seem
wise to a just heaven to inflict."
Having uttered these words, the Prince turned away, with undisguised
aversion, from the two villains whom he had so impressively and solemnly
addressed.
They slunk out of the apartment, with chap-fallen countenances, while
Whittingham followed them to the door of the dining-room, through which
they passed, and conveyed to them the satisfactory intelligence that "if
it had impended on him, they should have been confided with strong
letters of commendation to the governor of Newgate."
As soon as they had departed, Colonel Cholmondeley inquired in an
insolent tone whether the Prince had any thing to say to _him_; but
finding that Markham turned his back contemptuously upon him, he
swaggered out of the room, muttering something about "satisfaction in
another manner."
Early the next morning, Mrs. Bustard received the following letter:—
"_King Square, Goswell Road._
"Faithful to the promise which I made to you the day before
yesterday, my dear aunt, I have quitted the West End, and am once
more located in a quiet neighbourhood. Thanks to the kind
interference of that most amiable and excellent nobleman the Prince
of Montoni, and to the encouragement given me by your forgiveness of
the deception which I so shamefully practised upon you, I have been
completely awakened to the errors of my late mode of life. I shall
pledge myself to nothing now: my future conduct will prove to you
how effectually wise counsels and past experience have changed my
habits, my inclinations, and my ideas. One thing, however, I may
state on the present occasion: namely, that I am convinced there is
no character so truly dangerous and so thoroughly unprincipled as
the one who delights in the name of '_the man about town_.'
"I must also declare that I yesterday handled the dice-box for the
last time. Much as I loathed the idea, after the dread warnings
which I received from the lips of the Prince, I nevertheless
consented to play a last game—and it _shall_ remain the last! But,
start not, dear aunt—I did so by the desire of the Prince, and that
I might induce one of my false friends to produce the dice which he
always carried about with him. The result was as the Prince had
anticipated: those dice were so prepared that it was no wonder if
their owner was constantly a winner. And had not the Prince known my
repentance to be sincere, he would not for a moment have permitted
me to touch those dice again—even though it were to accomplish an
aim that might the more effectually expose the men by whom I was
surrounded!
"To the Prince my unbounded gratitude is due. He has saved me from
utter ruin, and has advised me how to employ the remainder of my
fortune so as to recover by my industry what I have lost by my
folly. It appears that his august father-in-law, the sovereign of
Castelcicala,—and who has set so good an example to the Italian
States by giving a Constitution and a national representation to his
own country,—has established a line of steam-packets between London
and Montoni; and it is my intention to trade between the two
capitals. But the details of this project I will explain to you
to-morrow, when I shall have the pleasure of calling upon you.
"Your affectionate Nephew,
ALBERT EGERTON."