The Baron turned into his drawing-room, and Leslie followed.
"Pleasant young men, those," said Levy, with a slight sneer, as he
threw himself into an easy chair and stirred the fire. "And not at
all proud; but, to be sure, they are--under great obligations to
me. Yes; they owe me a great deal. _Apropos_, I have had a long talk
with Frank Hazeldean--fine young man--remarkable capacities for
business. I can arrange his affairs for him. I find, on reference to
the Will Office, that you were quite right; the Casino property is
entailed on Frank. He will have the fee simple. He can dispose of
the reversion entirely. So that there will be no difficulty in our
arrangements."
"But I told you also that Frank had scruples about borrowing on the
event of his father's death."
"Ay--you did so. Filial affection! I never take that into account in
matters of business. Such little scruples, though they are highly
honourable to human nature, soon vanish before the prospect of the
King's Bench. And, too, as you so judiciously remarked, our clever
young friend is in love with Madame di Negra."
"Did he tell you that?"
"No; but Madame di Negra did!"
"You know her?"
"I know most people in good society, who now and then require a
friend in the management of their affairs. And having made sure of
the fact you stated, as to Hazeldean's contingent property, (excuse
my prudence,) I have accommodated Madame di Negra, and bought up her
debts."
"You have--you surprise me!"
"The surprise will vanish on reflection. But you are very new to the
world yet, my dear Leslie. By the way, I have had an interview with
Peschiera--"
"About his sister's debts?"
"Partly. A man of the nicest honour is Peschiera."
Aware of Levy's habit of praising people for the qualities in which,
according to the judgment of less penetrating mortals, they were
most deficient, Randal only smiled at this eulogy, and waited for
Levy to resume. But the Baron sate silent and thoughtful for a
minute or two, and then wholly changed the subject.
"I think your father has some property in ----shire, and you
probably can give me a little information as to certain estates of
a Mr Thornhill--estates which, on examination of the title-deeds, I
find once, indeed, belonged to your family." The Baron glanced at a
very elegant memorandum book--"The manors of Rood and Dulmonsberry,
with sundry farms thereon. Mr Thornhill wants to sell them as soon
as his son is of age--an old client of mine, Thornhill. He has
applied to me on the matter. Do you think it an improvable property?"
Randal listened with a livid cheek and a throbbing heart. We have
seen that, if there was one ambitious scheme in his calculation
which, though not absolutely generous and heroic, still might win
its way to a certain sympathy in the undebased human mind, it was
the hope to restore the fallen fortunes of his ancient house, and
repossess himself of the long alienated lands that surrounded the
dismal wastes of the mouldering hall. And now to hear that those
lands were getting into the inexorable gripe of Levy--tears of
bitterness stood in his eyes.
"Thornhill," continued Levy, who watched the young man's
countenance--"Thornhill tells me that that part of his property--the
old Leslie lands--produces £2000 a-year, and that the rental could
be raised. He would take £50,000 for it--£20,000 down, and suffer
the remaining £30,000 to lie on mortgage at four per cent. It seems
a very good purchase. What do you say?"
"Don't ask me," said Randal, stung into rare honesty; "for I had
hoped I might live to repossess myself of that property."
"Ah! indeed. It would be a very great addition to your consequence
in the world--not from the mere size of the estate, but from
its hereditary associations. And if you have any idea of the
purchase--believe me, I'll not stand in your way."
"How can I have any idea of it?"
"But I thought you said you had."
"I understood that these lands could not be sold till Mr Thornhill's
son came of age, and joined in getting rid of the entail."
"Yes, so Thornhill himself supposed, till, on examining the
title-deeds, I found he was under a mistake. These lands are not
comprised in the settlement made by old Jasper Thornhill, which
ties up the rest of the property. The title will be perfect.
Thornhill wants to settle the matter at once--losses on the turf,
you understand; an immediate purchaser would get still better terms.
A Sir John Spratt would give the money;--but the addition of these
lands would make the Spratt property of more consequence in the
county than the Thornhill. So my client would rather take a few
thousands less from a man who don't set up to be his rival. Balance
of power in counties as well as nations."
Randal was silent.
"Well," said Levy, with great kindness of manner, "I see I pain you;
and though I am what my very pleasant guests would call a _parvenu_,
I comprehend your natural feelings as a gentleman of ancient birth.
_Parvenu!_ Ah! is it not strange, Leslie, that no wealth, no
fashion, no fame can wipe out that blot. They call me a _parvenu_,
and borrow my money. They call our friend, the wit, a _parvenu_, and
submit to all his insolence--if they condescend to regard his birth
at all--provided they can but get him to dinner. They call the best
debater in the Parliament of England a _parvenu_, and will entreat
him, some day or other, to be prime minister, and ask him for stars
and garters. A droll world, and no wonder the _parvenus_ want to
upset it."
Randal had hitherto supposed that this notorious tuft-hunter--this
dandy capitalist--this money-lender, whose whole fortune had been
wrung from the wants and follies of an aristocracy, was naturally
a firm supporter of things as they are--how could things be better
for men like Baron Levy? But the usurer's burst of democratic spleen
did not surprise his precocious and acute faculty of observation.
He had before remarked, that it is the persons who fawn most upon
an aristocracy, and profit the most by the fawning, who are ever
at heart its bitterest disparagers. Why is this? Because one full
half of democratic opinion is made up of envy; and we can only envy
what is brought before our eyes, and what, while very near to us, is
still unattainable. No man envies an archangel.
"But," said Levy, throwing himself back in his chair, "a new order
of things is commencing; we shall see. Leslie, it is lucky for you
that you did not enter parliament under the government; it would be
your political ruin for life."
"You think, then, that the ministry really cannot last?"
"Of course I do; and what is more, I think that a ministry of the
same principles cannot be restored. You are a young man of talent
and spirit; your birth is nothing compared to the rank of the
reigning party; it would tell, to a certain degree, in a democratic
one. I say, you should be more civil to Avenel; he could return you
to parliament at the next election."
"The next election! In six years! We have just had a general
election."
"There will be another before this year, or half of it, or perhaps a
quarter of it, is out."
"What makes you think so?"
"Leslie, let there be confidence between us; we can help each other.
Shall we be friends?"
"With all my heart. But, though you may help me, how can I help you?"
"You have helped me already to Frank Hazeldean--and the Casino
estate. All clever men can help me. Come, then, we are friends; and
what I say is secret. You ask me why I think there will be a general
election so soon? I will answer you frankly. Of all the public men I
ever met with, there is no one who has so clear a vision of things
immediately before him as Audley Egerton."
"He has that character. Not _far_-seeing, but _clear_-sighted to a
certain limit."
"Exactly so. No one better, therefore, knows public opinion, and its
immediate ebb and flow."
"Granted."
"Egerton, then, counts on a general election within three months;
and I have lent him the money for it."
"Lent him the money! Egerton borrow money of you--the rich Audley
Egerton!"
"Rich!" repeated Levy in a tone impossible to describe, and
accompanying the word with that movement of the middle finger and
thumb, commonly called a "snap," which indicates profound contempt.
He said no more. Randal sate stupified. At length the latter
muttered, "But if Egerton is really not rich--if he lose office, and
without the hope of return to it----"
"If so, he is ruined!" said Levy coldly; "and therefore, from regard
to you, and feeling interest in your future fate, I say--Rest no
hopes of fortune or career upon Audley Egerton. Keep your place for
the present, but be prepared at the next election to stand upon
popular principles. Avenel shall return you to parliament; and the
rest is with luck and energy. And now, I'll not detain you longer,"
said Levy, rising and ringing the bell. The servant entered.
"Is my carriage here?"
"Yes, Baron."
"Can I set you down anywhere?"
"No, thank you; I prefer walking."
"Adieu, then. And mind you remember the _soirée dansante_ at Mrs
Avenel's." Randal mechanically shook the hand extended to him, and
went down the stairs.
The fresh frosty air roused his intellectual faculties, which Levy's
ominous words had almost paralysed.
And the first thing the clever schemer said to himself was this--
"But what can be the man's motive in what he said to me?"
The next was--
"Egerton ruined! What am I, then?"
And the third was--
"And that fair remnant of the old Leslie property! £20,000 down--how
to get the sum? Why should Levy have spoken to me of this?"
And lastly, the soliloquy rounded back--"The man's motives! His
motives?"
Meanwhile, the Baron threw himself into his chariot--the most
comfortable easy chariot you can possibly conceive--single man's
chariot--perfect taste--no married man ever has such a chariot; and
in a few minutes he was at ----'s hotel, and in the presence of
Giulio Franzini, Count di Peschiera.
"_Mon chèr_," said the Baron in very good French, and in a tone of
the most familiar equality with the descendant of the princes and
heroes of grand mediæval Italy--"_Mon chèr_, give me one of your
excellent cigars. I think I have put all matters in train."
"You have found out--"
"No; not so fast yet," said the Baron, lighting the cigar extended
to him. "But you said that you should be perfectly contented if it
only cost you £20,000 to marry off your sister, (to whom that sum is
legally due,) and to marry yourself to the heiress."
"I did, indeed."
Then I have no doubt I shall manage both objects for that sum, if
Randal Leslie really knows where the young lady is, and can assist
you. Most promising able man is Randal Leslie--but innocent as a
babe just born."
"Ha, ha! Innocent? _Que diable!_"
"Innocent as this cigar, _mon chèr_--strong, certainly, but smoked
very easily. _Soyez tranquille!_"