mistress to the last, and won't leave her for you or anybody else.
You're a couple of vile wretches; and there isn't a pin to choose
between you.”
“Oh! Wilmot, thou art thy poor heart-broken mistress's only
friend, after all,” sobbed Mrs. Blennerhagen; “she is the victim of
circumstances and her own refined feelings.”
“Peterson,” said Blennerhagen, “I am under the unpleasant necessity of
requesting you to remember all that you have just witnessed. You will
agree with me, I think, that I ought to make this man quit my house
before I leave it myself.”
“Unquestionably,” replied Peterson.
“I shall do no such thing,” said Burdock; “conscious of my innocence, I
defy you;--I laugh at you: and, before I quit this roof, I will make you
wish you had sooner crossed the path of a hungry wolf than mine. I dare
you to give me half an hour's interview.”
“Ought I to do so, Peterson?” calmly inquired Blennerhagen. “Not without
a witness, I think,” was the reply.
“With a score of witnesses, if you will,” said Burdock:--“events have
precipitated my proceedings:--with a score of witnesses, if you will.
But mark me, man, you shall lament, if we are in solitude, that there
will be still one awful witness of your villany. I will unmask your
soul; I will shew you to yourself, and make you grind your teeth with
agony, unless you are, indeed, a demon in human form.”
“Heavens! Mr. Burdock,” exclaimed Mrs. Blennerhagen, “what can you have
to say against my husband?”
“It matters not, madam; he shall hear me in this place, or elsewhere
hereafter.”
“I scorn your threats, sir,” said Blennerhagen; “and publicly or
privately, I will meet any accusation you may have to make against me.”
“Privately be it, then, if you dare.”
“Dare, sir! Leave the room every body:--nay, I insist;--Peterson and
all. Now, sir,” said Blennerhagen, closing the door after his wife,
Wilmot, and Peterson, who, in obedience to his command, had left the
room; “now, sir, we are alone, what have you to say?”
“Blennerhagen,” said the attorney, fixing his keen eye on that of the
Mathematician, “George Wyburn has been arrested.”
“It is an event that has been long looked for. I am rather hurt that, in
communicating with his friends on the subject, he should have given
you a priority over myself. I lament to say that he has fallen into bad
hands.”
“He has,” replied Burdock; “but I will endeavour to release him”
“I thank you on behalf of my friend,” said Blennerhagen, with a
malicious smile; “but I would suggest, with great humility, that you
will find sufficient employment, at present, to extricate yourself.”
“Sir,” said Burdock, “I wanted but the key-note to your character: every
word you utter is in unison with your actions.”
“We are alone,” said Blennerhagen, “and I can allow you to be
vituperative. Detection renders you desperate: that philosophy which
enables me to gaze calmly on the wreck of my own peace, teaches me,
also, to bear with those who are so unfortunate as to be guilty. I would
not personally bruise a broken reed: I cannot descend to chastise the
man, who has injured me deeply, for an insult in words. The highwayman
who has robbed us, may defame our characters with impunity; the lesser
merges into the greater offence: we do not fly into a passion, and apply
the cudgel to his back; we pity, and let the law hang him. If your
hands were quite at liberty, pray what course would you adopt to benefit
George Wyburn?”
“I am so far at liberty, I thank Providence,” replied Burdock, “as to be
able to bail him; and I mean to do so within an hour.”
“You do?”
“Ay, sir, to the confusion of his enemies, as sure as I'm a sinner. You
seem amazed.”
“I am indeed,--to say the least,--surprised, and naturally delighted to
find fortune should so unexpectedly raise him up a friend.”
“I am rather surprised myself; but I'll do it, I'm determined, hap what
will.”
“It is truly grievous,--a matter of deep regret,--that I cannot fold you
in my arms,” said Blennerhagen. “How strange it is that the same bosom
should foster the most noble and the basest of thoughts. In the human
heart, the lily and the hemlock seem to flourish together. If it were
possible that your offence against my honour could admit of palliation
or forgiveness--but I beg pardon; I must be permitted to write a hasty
line, on a subject of some importance, which, until this moment, I had
forgotten. It is the miserable lot of man, that, in the midst of his
most acute trials, he is often compelled to attend to those minor
duties, the neglect of which would materially prejudice some of those
about him. I shall still give you my attention.”
“Every syllable--every action of this man, now amazes me,” said Burdock
to himself, walking towards the window: “he almost subdues me from my
purpose.”
“I shall be entirely at your service in an instant,” said Blennerhagen,
advancing to the door with a note, which he had hastily written, in his
hand: “I beg pardon,--oblige me by ringing the bell.”
Burdock mechanically complied with his request; and Blennerhagen
stepped outside the door to give his servant some directions, as Burdock
conceived, relative to the note. During his brief absence, the attorney,
acting either from experience or impulse, cast a glance on the little
pad, consisting of several sheets of blotting-paper, which lay on the
escrutoire. Blennerhagen had dried his note on the upper sheet: it was
rapidly penned in a full, bold hand: and the impression of nearly every
letter was quite visible on the blotting-paper. To tear off the sheet,
to hold it up against the looking-glass, so as to rectify the reverse
position of the words, and to cast his eye over those which were the
most conspicuous, was the work of a moment. It ran thus:--“Gillard--I
must change my plan--let Wyburn be instantly released--contrive that
he shall suspect he owes his liberty to my becoming security for the
debts--Blennerhagen.”
Burdock had conveyed this precious document to the side-pocket of his
coat before Blennerhagen returned: he resolved not to act rashly upon
it, but to consider calmly what would be the most efficacious mode of
using it. He felt highly gratified that he now possessed the means of
supporting Mrs. Wyburn's statement as to Blennerhagen's treachery. It
afforded him considerable satisfaction, also, that he might, in all
probability, not only, in some measure, benefit Wyburn, but, by politic
conduct, force Blennerhagen to desist from giving him any trouble on
account of the awkward situation into which he had been placed by Mrs.
Blennerhagen's folly.
All these ideas darted through his brain with the rapidity of lightning.
He felt pleased; and, doubtless, exhibited some symptoms of his internal
satisfaction in his countenance; for Blennerhagen resumed the
conversation by saying, “You smile, sir: the prospect of doing a good
action lights up your countenance, and makes you forget your personal
troubles. Until this day, you have, to me, been an object of respect.
What could induce you to act as you have done,--to injure and then brave
me? You threatened to unmask me--to make me crouch and tremble before
you: I am still erect, and my hand is firm.”
“Let that pass, sir,” said Burdock; “the novelty--the ridiculous
novelty, of my situation, must be my excuse. You can, perhaps, imagine
the feelings of an innocent man, labouring under a sudden and severe
accusation.”
“I can, indeed,” replied Blennerhagen. “Do you say you are innocent?”
“I scorn to answer such a question.”
“Truly, your manner staggers me;--your character has its weight, too: I
should be exceedingly glad to see you exculpated. May I ask what brought
you to my wife's dressing-room?”
“To that I will reply:--I received a summons from Mrs. Blennerhagen,
and was conducted to this apartment by her servant: the idiot wanted to
smuggle me in the back way, but I wouldn't put up with it.”
“One inquiry more, and I have done. On what occasion, and for what
purpose, were you so summoned?”
“Eh! why--gadso! it's very absurd, to be sure; but there I stand at bay.
I must consider before I answer your question: I'll speak to Hassell
about it, and hear what he says on an A B case, without mentioning
names. Perhaps it wouldn't be a breach of professional confidence
either; but we shall see.”
“Mr. Burdock, I am almost inclined to think, although appearances are
powerful, that I have not been wronged. Mrs. Blennerhagen, although I
respect and have married her, is not a woman for whom a man, with
any philosophy, would carry an affair of this kind to extremities,
particularly where the internal evidence is weak. I am willing to give
you the full benefit of my doubts: but, sir, at the least you have been
indiscreet. Your conduct may cost me much: my reputation is at the mercy
of other tongues; which, however, I must admit, may be silenced. Should
I consent to smother this matter, will you, in return, comply with such
request as I may make, without questioning my motives or betraying my
confidence?”
“What if I decline to do so?”
“Then I will accept nothing less than a thousand pounds.”
“As hush-money, I suppose, you mean.”
“Call it what you please. I shall put you to the test, most probably,
within a week. You know the alternative:--if you decline that too, I
shall go on with the action, which, in justice to myself, I am compelled
to commence immediately. That I may not be defeated, I must also leave
my house, or turn my wife out of doors, to wait the result. But do
not be alarmed, I will abide by what I have said,--your services or a
thousand pounds. After this, I need scarcely say to you, that I do not
think I have been actually injured: but the case is clear against
you; other eyes have witnessed appearances, which go to impeach Mrs.
Blennerhagen's virtue; and I act as any other man would, in demanding
atonement, in some shape or other. I shall now send up my friend to see
you out.”
“_Hem quocunque modo rem!_” ejaculated the attorney, as Blennerhagen
closed the door after him. “This fellow is a fearful one to strive with;
and I am, unfortunately, in some degree, fettered by the fact he alludes
to. But cheer up, Adam!--your cause is good; be courageous, and you
shall surely conquer.” Without waiting for the arrival of Peterson,
Burdock snatched up his hat and cane, hastily descended the stairs, and,
without looking to the right or left, quitted the house. He got into a
coach at the first stand he came to, and directed the coachman to set
him down, as quickly as possible, in Serle's Buildings, Carey Street.
On arriving at the lock-up house, he found that George Wyburn had already
been liberated. He was, in some degree, prepared for this intelligence,
by Blennerhagen's letter to Gillard, of which he had so luckily
obtained a copy. His regret at being thus anticipated by the agent of
Blennerhagen, did not make him forget that it was a full hour beyond
his usual dinnertime: he hastened to Symond's Inn coffee-house; where,
notwithstanding the unpleasant scenes of the morning, he ate a very
hearty dinner, drank an extra half pint of wine, and perused the daily
papers, before he returned to his chambers.
On entering his office, one of the clerks informed him that there was
a lady in his private room, waiting, in the utmost anxiety, for his
return. Burdock immediately walked in, and, to his great indignation and
amazement, beheld Mrs. Blennerhagen. He recoiled from the sight of her
unwelcome countenance, and would, perhaps, have fairly run away from
her, if the lady had not pounced upon him before he could retrograde
a single pace. She dragged him into the centre of the room; where,
clasping one of his arms in her hands, she fell on her knees, and
implored him to pity and relieve the most ill-starred gentlewoman
that ever breathed. “Nothing shall induce me to rise from this spot,”
continued Mrs. Blennerhagen, “until you promise, at least, to hear me.”
“I submit to my fate,” replied Burdock. “Pray release my hand; these
buildings are old, and I stand exposed to a murderous rush of air. I
am naturally susceptible of cold, and have been taught by experience to
avoid this spot. Release me instantly, or I must call the clerks to my
assistance.”
“Promise, then, to hear me.”
“Anything, madam!--Odso!--have I not already told you I would submit to
my fate? And a hard fate it is,” continued Burdock, taking up a strong
position behind his writing-table as soon as his arm was at liberty;
“I consider myself particularly unfortunate in ever having heard of the
name of Burdock, or Winpennie either.”
“Don't asperse my late husband,” said the lady; “call _me_ what you
like, but don't asperse Paul. I am a wretched woman, Mr. Burdock.”
“You're a very silly, self-sufficient woman, Mrs. Blenner-hagen,”
replied the attorney. “Are you not ashamed to look me in the face, after
having, by your absurd conduct, and the assistance of your satellite,
your female familiar, brought me into a situation so distressing to a
man of my respectability?”
“Don't speak against my poor Wilmot;--don't call her names: call _me_
names, if you must be abusive, and I'll bear it all patiently. As to
your sneer upon my being familiar with her, I can safely say that,
faithful as she is, I have never forgotten that Wilmot is a servant. A
woman who has seen so much of this vile, odious world, as I have, is not
to be told that too much familiarity breeds contempt.”
“You misunderstand me, madam;--but to explain would be useless. Allow
me to ask you, coolly and temperately,--after what has taken place, what
the devil brings you here? You must be out of your senses--I'm sure you
must--or you'd never act thus.”
“You will not say so when you know my motives: but, anxious as I feel to
explain them, I can't help observing, how cruel it is for you to upbraid
me with what took place to-day. I can lay my hand upon my heart, and
declare that I acted for the best: any prudent woman would have done
exactly as I did; for who could expect that ever a man of your years and
experience would let the tail of his coat be caught in the closet-door?”
“Pray don't go on at this rate:--go home, my good woman,--go home at
once.”
“Good woman, indeed, Mr. Burdock! You forget, sir, that you are talking
to the relict of the late Paul Winpennie. I hope you do not mean to add
insult to the injury you have done me.”
“Zounds! Mrs. Blennerhagen, it is I who have been injured,--injured by
_you_, madam.”
“Oh! I beg your pardon; if you had only recollected that your coat--”
“Talk no more about it;--it shall be as you please, if you will drop the
subject, and come to the point at once. Why do I see you here?”
“I hope I may be permitted to sit.”
“Oh! certainly,--I beg pardon,” said Burdock, handing Mrs. Blennerhagen
a chair, and immediately returning to his position behind the
writing-table.
“I am, at this moment, exceedingly indisposed, you will recollect,” said
the lady; “and I ought to be in bed, with a physician by my side, rather
than in Furnival's Inn, talking to an attorney.”
“You are perfectly right, madam; and I beg to suggest that you should
avoid the fatigue of conversation as much as possible.”
“I thank you for your friendly hint, Mr. Burdock, and I will endeavour
to profit by it. Now I'm going to surprise you. Wilmot--no matter
how--contrived to overhear a great part of your conversation with Mr.
Blennerhagen. It seems that a thousand pounds was the sum mentioned;
but Wilmot thinks, and so do I, that, by good management, with a solemn
declaration and her oath, half the money would settle the matter. Now,
my dear Mr. Burdock, as you are a little obstinate and self-willed,--you
know you are, for you've too much sense to be blind to your own little
failings,--I thought I would come down at once, and, if you wavered,
throw my eloquence and interest into the scale. I need not point out
to you how much trouble it will save us both, if you can prevent this
little affair from being made public. What say you?”
“Why, truly, madam, your matchless absurdity almost deprives me of
utterance. You heap Pelion upon Ossa with such celerity, that, before I
can recover from the surprise which one ridiculous action has produced,
you stun me with a still more prodigious achievement.”
“And can you really hesitate?”
“Hesitate, woman! Not at all:--I'm resolute!--Blennerhagen shall never
see the colour of my coin.”
“Why, Mr. Burdock! are you a man? Can you, for a moment, seriously think
of suffering an injured lady's reputation to be placed in jeopardy for
the sake of so paltry a sum?”
“Pray hold your tongue, or, vexed as I am, I shall positively laugh
in your face. Do you think I am mad, or that I find my money in the
streets? But that I can scarcely conceive Blennerhagen is fool enough to
think I am such a gudgeon as to bite at his bait, I should certainly be
led to suspect what I hinted this morning to be true.”
“That I am his confederate? and that we had laid our heads together to
entrap you?--I would rather die than you should imagine that I was
so vile a wretch! Oh! Mr. Burdock, I could not exist under such an
imputation. To prove that I, do not merit your odious suspicions, and as
you are so ungenerous as not to come forward with your own money on this
occasion, I'll tell you what I'll do:--I'll pledge the pearl necklace,
tiara, ear-rings, &c., which poor Mr. Winpennie gave me on my
wedding-day, and never would let me part with even when he was
distressed,--I'll pledge those, and the ruby suite I was last married
in, with my two gold watches, and as many little trinkets as will make
up the money, which I'll give you before I sleep, if you will promise to
keep the secret, and make the matter up with Blennerhagen; so that there
may be no piece of work about it.--Now what do you think of that?”
“Mrs. Blennerhagen,” said Burdock, advancing from the situation which
he had hitherto occupied, and kindly taking the lady's hand, “you are a
very weak, imprudent woman;--excuse me for saying so;--it is the fact:
and if you are not more careful, you will, in all probability, get
into a position, from which you will find it impossible to extricate
yourself. The present case is bad enough, in all conscience; but I have
some reason to hope, that it is to be got over without the sacrifice of
your pearl necklace, or the ruby suite in which you were last married;
at all events, let them remain in your own jewel-box for the present. We
will not have recourse to either, unless, and until, all other earthly
means fail. Let me, however, advise you as a friend, should you escape
scot-free on this occasion, to be more careful in your conduct for the
future. Now don't say another word, but go home and make yourself easy.”
“Oh! Mr. Burdock,” exclaimed the lady, “this is, indeed, most fatherly
of you. Your words are balm to my agitated spirits; a sweet calm begins
to pervade my bosom;--good Heavens! what's that?”
“What, madam?” eagerly inquired Burdock, casting a hurried glance around
him.
“As I'm a living creature, I heard the creak of Blenner-hagen's
boot!--He's coming! I'm sure he's coming!”
As the lady spoke, some one knocked at the outer door; and, immediately
after, one of the clerks came in to announce, that the moment Mr.
Burdock was disengaged, Mr. Blennerhagen would be glad to speak with
him.
The attorney and his fair visitor gazed upon each other in a very
expressive manner, at this information: the lady whispered, “I shall
faint; I'm sure I shall!” Burdock, after a brief pause, told the clerk
that he should be at liberty in one minute, and the young man retired.
“How exquisitely annoying!” exclaimed the attorney, as soon as the door
was closed; “this is the consequence of your indiscretion, madam.”
“Don't abuse me, sir;--don't tread upon a worm!” replied the lady. “We
should not lose time in talking, but set our wits to work at once. Oh!
if Wilmot were here, now!--That stupid clerk! couldn't he as well have
said you were out, or particularly occupied, and told Mr. Blennerhagen
to call again?--Where shall I conceal myself? Have you no little room?”
“Not one, I am happy to say.”
“Nor even a cupboard?--of course you have a cupboard:--I can squeeze in
anywhere, bless you!”
“There is not a hiding-place for a rat; the window is two stories
from the ground, and excessively narrow into the bargain: so that
circumstances luckily compel you to adopt the plain, straight-forward
course, which is always the best. I strongly suspect your husband has
followed you here: to conceal yourself would be useless,--nay, fatal.
You must face him.”
“Oh! Mr. Burdock, you drive me frantic!”
“Nay, nay, madam;--pray be calm: don't tear your hair in that frightful
manner!”
“Talk not of hair:--besides, they're only ringlets which I wear in
charity to Wilmot; it takes her an hour to dress my own:--I scarce
know what I'm doing or saying.--Stay! if I open the upper and lower
right-hand doors of that press or bookcase, or whatever it is, won't
they reach to the other wall?”
“Possibly they may.”
“Then I can hide myself in the corner.”
“Notwithstanding my caution, you are acting as unwisely as ever. I
protest against all this, and give you notice that I will be no party to
the concealment.”
“Do hold your tongue, and be guided by me:--you men have really no
brains. There,” said the lady, placing herself behind the two doors,
which, as the side of the piece of furniture to which they belonged
stood within a short distance of the corner of the room, effectually
concealed her from observation, “now, if you'll only get rid of him
quickly, I'll warrant you I shall be safe.” Burdock immediately rang a
little table bell, and his clerk ushered in the Mathematician.
“You are doubtless surprised to see me so soon, sir,” said Blennerhagen.
“Not at all; I shall never be surprised again.”
“A wise man should wonder at nothing, perhaps. Unexpected circumstances,
which I will explain, have led me to visit you this afternoon. In the
first place, I understand, from my servant, that a female has been sent
to my house by your directions: her appearance and story, it seems, were
equally extraordinary. May I be excused for having a natural curiosity
to know who she was, and what she wanted? She was sent up, I hear,
to Mrs. Blennerhagen: I have no wish that she should trouble my wife
again.”
“Are you anxious to keep her business with you a secret from Mrs.
Blennerhagen?”
“Possibly I may be; but I don't know until I discover what it is:--we
have all been young. Why do you ask?”
“Simply because your wife is in this room.”
“I don't understand you.”
“Mrs. Blennerhagen is now within hearing: she stands behind the doors of
that old book-case.”
“Excuse me, sir;--you have dined, no doubt;--but I am serious.”
“And so am I,” replied Burdock. “If you disbelieve what I say, go and
see.”
“Oh! you vile creatures!” exclaimed Mrs. Blennerhagen, rushing from
the place of her concealment:--“you pair of wretches! A plot! a plot!
There's a vile plot laid between you to delude--to vilify--to destroy
me. I see through it all. And you,--you old, abandoned man,” added
the lady, addressing Burdock, “to lend yourself to such a scheme!--I'm
ashamed of you!--You've played your parts well; but I will be a match
for you. Oh! Heavens! is this the way to treat a wife? Mr. Blennerhagen,
you may well look confounded.”
“Confounded!” exclaimed Blennerhagen; “I'm thunderstruck!”
“Ay! no doubt you are. What I am to be got rid of, I suppose, by this
vamped-up affair between you and your satellite,--as he dares to call
poor Wilmot,--to make room for your creature in sapphire and yellow. If
I die in the attempt, I will see the bottom of it all, and expose you
both!” Mrs. Blennerhagen now bustled out of the office.
“This woman is foolish,” said Blennerhagen.
“I think so, decidedly,” quoth the attorney.
“What brought her here, pray?”
“Why, as I was a little obstinate and self-willed, she came to throw her
interest and eloquence into the scale, (I use her own words,) and induce
me to prevent our little affair from being made public. Her woman, who
overheard the conversation which I had with you this morning, seems
to think that, although you ask a thousand pounds, with a little
management, a solemn declaration of innocence, and her own oath, half
the money would settle the matter. Ha, ha!”