"Hush, Master William! hush!" cried the old housekeeper, who, having
lived from ancient and better days in the family at Emberton, could
never forget that William Delaware had been once a boy, nor ever
remember that he was now a man. "Hush, Master William! Miss Blanche is
not well, poor dear--not well at all; and, indeed, I think--but there
he goes!" and as she spoke, Captain Delaware, who had been calling
loudly to his sister to come down and make breakfast for him, as he
was in haste, hurried into the breakfast-parlor to perform that office
for himself. It was not, indeed, that William Delaware was in the
least indifferent to his sister's health or happiness, but he
possessed that sort of constitution which hardly permits one to
understand what sickness is; and although, had he known that Blanche
was suffering under aught that he could assuage, or even sympathize
with, he would have hastened in offer comfort and consolation, with
every feeling of fraternal affection; he now only muttered to himself,
"Oh, she has got one of those cursed headaches!" and proceeded to
spoon the tea into the tea-pot, as if he had been baling a leaky boat.
"Blanche has got a headache, and is not coming down," he added, as Sir
Sidney Delaware entered; "and I have made tea, because I wish to reach
Ryebury, and speak with the old miser before he goes out. The fellow
must be shuffling."
Sir Sidney expressed his anxiety at the continuance of Blanche's
headache, more strongly than his son had done. His eyes had been less
quick than those of captain Delaware, in seeing the growing love
between Burrel and his daughter, for such feelings had long before
passed away from his own bosom; but his personal experience of
sickness had taught him to sympathize with it far more than his son
could do, and he was about to visit Blanche's chamber immediately, had
not the business of Mr. Tims first attracted him for a moment, and
then detained him till breakfast was over, and his son was about to
depart.
With manifold directions to express surprise at the miser's want of
punctuality, Captain Delaware was dismissed by his father, and took
the way direct to Ryebury, fully determined to enforce Sir Sidney's
rebuke, with many more indignant expressions. "Here," he thought, "my
father might have been pressed severely by this time--insulted--nay,
even arrested--because this scoundrel has not thought fit to produce
the money--doubtless, keeping it to get the additional interest of a
single day. If it were not for creating new obstacles, I would
horsewhip him for his pains!"
William Delaware was naturally quite sufficiently hasty in his
disposition; but people who are so, have not unfrequently a way of
lashing themselves up into anger before there is any necessity for it,
by conjuring up a thousand imaginary injuries or insults in the
future, as soon as they have begun to suspect that Mr. A, B, C, or D,
intends to offend or wrong them. Thus, it must be confessed, did
William Delaware, as he walked along toward the house of the miser.
First, he thought that Mr. Tims might strive still to delay the
payment he had promised, in order to increase his gains by a day or
two more interest; next, he imagined that he might wish to prolong the
matter, in order to augment Sir Sidney Delaware's difficulties, and
exact a higher commission; and then, again, it struck him that the
miser, whose repute for double-dealing was rather high in the
neighborhood, might have in view so to entangle the affairs of the
family, as to get possession of the estate itself. Notwithstanding all
this, it is true that William Delaware was not of a suspicious nature.
All these phantoms were conjured up by anger at the foregone
disappointment. A very slight circumstance--the delay of the
payment--had raised them; and a less--even a few fair speeches--would
have dispelled them. The distinction is necessary to the appreciation
of his character. He was hasty in all his conclusions--rapid in his
expectations of good or evil, as soon as his mind was set upon either
track--but not suspicious; and, consequently, easily turned from one
road into the the other.
It so happened, however--unfortunately enough--that while in the very
height of his indignation at Mr. Tims, with that personage's evil
deeds and qualities--real and imaginary--past present, or future--all
red-hot and hissing in his mind, who should he encounter but the miser
himself, with his sharp, red nose turned toward Emberton, and his
hands behind his back. Mr. Tims saw him instantly; and as there were
various questions which he was anxious to have settled and resolved
before he entered into any discussion with either Sir Sidney or his
son, he thought that he might escape by a side-path, which opportunely
lay just at his left hand; and, consequently, making a rotatory
movement on his right heel, he was turning in among the bushes, when
he was arrested by the voice of the young officer, addressing him in
not the most placable tones in the world. As Mr. Tims was well aware
that among the _stadiodromoi_ he could not compete with so young an
opponent as Captain Delaware, he instantly turned and met that
gentleman, whose previous wrath was not a little heightened by this
evident attempt at evasion.
The most difficult thing for a man who has been secretly coaxing his
own anger, is to begin to give it vent without appearing unreasonable;
and Mr. Tims's countenance was so cold, dry, and calm, that nothing
could be made out of the "Good morning, Captain Delaware!" with which
he opened the conversation.
"I thought, sir, that by making my visit so early, I should have found
you at home," was Captain Delaware's brief rejoinder.
"Business called me abroad," replied Mr. Tims, as laconically.
"Were you going toward Emberton Park?" demanded the young officer.
"No, sir, I was not!" answered Mr. Tims, whose manner toward the son
of "poor Sir Sidney Delaware," was always very different from that
which he assumed to rich Mr. Burrel, and was peculiarly simple on the
present occasion.
"You were not!" cried Captain Delaware; "then, let me tell you, sir,
you should have been there yesterday. I beg to know, sir, why you were
not to the time you yourself appointed for the signature of the
mortgage, and the payment of the money advanced."
"Because it was not convenient, sir, and because the money was not
ready," replied Mr. Tims, with imperturbable calmness.
Captain Delaware's command over himself abandoned him; and, raising
the whip he had in hand, he shook it over the miser's head,
exclaiming, "Not convenient! Not ready! By Heaven! if it were not for
your years, I would make you find it convenient to keep your word when
you have pledged it, and to be ready at the time you promise!"
He was dropping the whip, though his eyes were still flashing, when a
voice close beside him, proceeding from an honest neighboring farmer,
whose approach he had not observed, exclaimed, "Captain! Captain!
Don't ye strike the old man! Don't ye, now! Don't ye! Oh, that's
right, now--reason it with him, like--but don't ye strike him!"
"No, no, Ritson, I am not going to strike him!" replied Captain
Delaware. "Go on, my good fellow, and leave us; I will not strike
him!"
"Well, well, captain," said the farmer, laughing, "I'll go--but your
word's given, mind. So, don't ye strike the old man, though he were
the devil himself. He looks more like a wet hen under a penthouse,
howsomever."
The farmer's description was not far from correct; for Mr. Tims, who
had expected no such fierce explosion as that which his words had
occasioned, and had fancied he could be insolent in security--now
stood aghast, as the rhetoric of Captain Delaware's horsewhip seemed
likely to be applied to his shoulders. His knees acquired an
additional bend, his nether jaw dropped, his arms hung distant from
his sides, his cheeks grew paler, and his red nose stood out in
prominent relief, under the very act of fear. The good farmer's
interposition, however, calmed him sufficiently to enable his tongue
to falter forth some words of apology, declaring that he did not
intend to offend Captain Delaware--far from it; but how could that
gentleman expect him to speak boldly upon such subjects, out in the
public high-road? Who could tell, he demanded, that there might not be
robbers in the immediate neighborhood of the place where they then
stood!
"Well, if that be all," answered Captain Delaware, "I will protect you
against robbers, till you get to your own house; and there you will be
sufficiently at ease to give me a proper explanation of your
unaccountable conduct."
Mr. Tims would fain have evaded this immediate consummation, as his
purpose in walking to Emberton was to see Mr. Burrel, and ascertain
exactly which way would be the most advantageous for him to act; but
Captain Delaware was peremptory; the mediating farmer had walked up
the lane, and Mr. Tims was obliged to turn his steps homeward. When he
had entered the house, and led his unwelcome visitor into his little
parlor, carefully closed the door, and listened to hear that the steps
of even his faithful dirty Sally no longer haunted the passage, he
began his explanation in a low tone.
"As you say, Captain Delaware--as you say, indeed," he went on--"it is
a most unfortunate circumstance; but how can I help it? I depended
upon another for the money--the letter of credit that he gave for the
sum was duly presented; but it appears that a bill for ten thousand
pounds, which he expected to be paid by this time, had been
dishonored, and that his agents had not sufficient assets to meet the
demand. But as you say, sir, it was impossible that I could help it."
Captain Delaware sat for a moment in silent but bitter disappointment.
At length he exclaimed, "And who the devil is this gentleman, from
whom you were to receive this money?"
Mr. Tims hesitated. "Why, as to that, Captain Delaware," he said, "I
was expressly forbidden to tell; but since the matter has come to this
pass, I dare say there can be no harm in it. He is no one else than
the gentleman calling himself Mr. Burrel, or, in other words, your
cousin, Mr. Henry Beauchamp."
William Delaware started off his chair, as any other quick-blooded
person would have done, if such a tide of sudden and unexpected
information were poured upon him. For a moment the blood rushed up
into his cheeks--the first feeling of laying one's self under a deep
obligation to any one being always painful. As long as he had thought
that the miser advanced the money on mortgage, it had seemed a mere
matter of traffic; but when he heard that it was Burrel, it instantly
became an obligation, and the first feeling, as I have said, was not
altogether pleasant. Neither was the fact, that the gay, the wealthy,
the dashing, the sarcastic cousin, of whom he had heard so much,
had--notwithstanding the chilling coldness with which Sir Sidney had,
a year or two before, repelled some advances which Beauchamp had
made--neither was the fact, I say, that he had opened his way into
their family circle, taken a place by their fireside, and witnessed
all the poverty and decay of their house, agreeable at its first
aspect. But a moment's thought--by recalling all the delicacy of Henry
Beauchamp's conduct, the kind and unaffected regard which he had
shown toward them all, the persevering friendship with which he had
followed up his purpose, and the real services he had so zealously
planned--soon took away from the mind of William Delaware all that was
painful in the sudden news he heard, and the glow was almost at once
succeeded by a bright and happy smile.
"I see it all now," he cried; "I see it all now; and since such are
the facts, Mr. Tims, the matter will be very easily arranged."
"Oh, doubtless, doubtless, sir," replied Mr. Tims. "As you say, every
one knows that Mr. Beauchamp has the wherewithal to do any thing that
he likes. His fortune is immense, sir--his fortune is immense. His
father made a mint of money when he was governor of--"
"How much did you say was the deficiency?" demanded Captain Delaware.
"Only ten thousand pounds, sir," replied the miser--"a mere nothing to
Mr. Beauchamp; and as you say, sir, he could raise it in a minute, if
he liked. I was just going to see him upon the business, when I met
you, and you were so violent, Captain Delaware."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Tims--I beg your pardon," said the young
officer. "I was in the wrong; but now I will save you the trouble you
were about to take, and go on at once to my cousin myself. It is high
time that I should acknowledge his generous kindness, and thank him
for it."
"But, I trust, Captain Delaware--I trust," faltered forth the miser,
in an agony of fear lest the job should be taken out of his hands by
the meeting of the principal parties--"I trust that the business may
be suffered to proceed in the regular train--I can not be expected to
lose all my little emoluments."
"Do not be afraid--do not be afraid, sir!" replied Captain Delaware,
who soon saw the current of the miser's thoughts. "Do not alarm
yourself. The whole business shall pass through your hands, and you
shall get as much upon it as you honestly can."
"Ay, sir! Now, that is what I call something like!" replied the
relieved Mr. Tims. "Captain Delaware, will you take a glass of wine
after your walk, or a glass of ale? But, as you say, time presses; and
perhaps you may be anxious to see your excellent and worthy cousin,
who, doubtless, can set all right--and high time it is he should do
so, I can tell you--for my worthy nephew, Mr. Peter Tims, solicitor of
Clement's Inn, who is agent for my good lord and former patron, the
Earl of Ashborough, is to be down early to-morrow--and he is a smart
practitioner, I can tell you--and the bill being out, you know--"
"The whole, of course, requires promptitude," interrupted Captain
Delaware. "Not that I think Lord Ashborough, or Lord Ashborough's
lawyer, would act an ungentlemanly part in the business; but I know it
would go far to break my father's heart, were the bill he has given to
be presented before he could pay it. So now, Mr. Tims, good-morning. I
will call upon you again when I have seen my cousin."
Away sped William Delaware like an arrow from a bow, his breast full
of mingled emotions, and his heart throbbing with contending feelings.
He did not, it is true, reason much with himself, as he went, in
regard to his position relative to Henry Beauchamp. He felt that he
owed him a deep debt of gratitude--he felt that he had every reason to
love and to admire him; and, although he could not but experience
likewise, a sort of generous distaste to the mere act of borrowing
money from any one, yet he determined to meet his cousin frankly and
openly; for his heart had arrived at the same conclusion that his
father's had reached before, and he thought, that if there were any
man on earth on whom he would choose to confer the honor of accepting
an obligation, it was Henry Beauchamp. He was soon in the streets of
Emberton, and soon at the door of Burrel's lodging. His application
for admittance was answered by the landlady, who told him that Mr.
Burrel was gone; but that the valet was still there, and settling some
accounts with a gentleman in his own room.
"Gone!" cried Captain Delaware. "Gone! You mean gone out, Mrs. Wilson,
surely? but send the servant to me."
"Oh. no, sir! sorry I am to say, he is gone for good and all, too
surely," replied Mrs. Wilson. "But if you will walk into the parlor
captain, I will send Mr. Harding to you directly--and I hope, if you
should chance to hear of any good lodger, captain, you will not forget
me."
"No, no!" replied Captain Delaware, somewhat impatiently, as he walked
forward into the little parlor which Burrel had inhabited; "but make
haste, Mrs. Wilson, and send the man to me, directly. What can be the
meaning of all this?" he added, as the good woman shut the door.
"Phoo! There must be some mistake," and he walked toward the window
which looked out into the road. Two minutes after he had taken up that
position, steps sounded along the passage, and, the street door being
opened, Burrel's servant, Harding, ushered out a coarse, vulgar man,
whom, as we have described him before, when he made his appearance in
the stage-coach with Burrel, we shall not notice further on the
present occasion. A few brief words, which Captain Delaware neither
could nor would hear, concluded that worthy's conversation with Mr.
Beauchamp's servant; and the next moment Harding himself made his
appearance, and, after a silent bow, stood waiting the young officer's
commands.
"Mrs. Wilson must surely have been mistaken, just now, in telling me
that your master has left Emberton?" was Captain Delaware's abrupt
address.
"No, sir; she was quite right!" replied Harding, in a respectful tone.
"Good God, this is most unfortunate!" cried Captain Delaware: "And,
pray, what was the cause of his abrupt departure!"
Under ordinary circumstances, Harding would have adhered to his
taciturnity; but Captain Delaware's declaration, that his master's
absence was most unfortunate, excited his curiosity--not in the
abstract, but personally, inasmuch as he did not know how far the
unfortunate circumstance complained of might affect himself--and he
therefore determined, as a nice feat of strategy, to provoke the young
officer's loquacity, by showing that he knew or suspected more of his
family concerns than the other imagined.
"I really can not tell, sir," replied be, in a low and deferential
tone, "what was the absolute cause; and perhaps I might offend you, if
I were to say what I fancy it was--although nobody can regret it more
than I do in my humble sphere."
"Not at all! Not at all! I shall not be offended at all!" replied
Captain Delaware, quickly. "On the contrary, I shall be glad to hear
any cause assigned for what seems to me quite inexplicable on many
accounts."
"Why, then, sir, the fact is," replied Harding, "that I could not help
seeing that my master--I beg your pardon, sir, I am afraid I shall
offend you--Well, sir, that my master seemed to feel very differently
toward my young lady at the Park than I ever saw him feel before for
any one; and I naturally thought, sir, that he was not going to be a
single man much longer. But then, last night, he did not come home at
all at ease; and this morning, after having been out for a long time
in the park, or at the mansion, he returned as if he had got his death
blow--ordering me to get every thing ready to set off for London; and,
mounting his own horse, not half an hour ago, galloped away before.
So, of course, I thought he had been refused--and that is a thing he
never was in his life before, I can answer for it."
Captain Delaware threw himself down in a chair, in a state of
confusion, perplexity, and distress indescribable. He instantly
combined Burrel's conduct with Blanche's illness of the previous night
and that morning; and, cursing what he called internally all the silly
caprices and ill-placed delicacies of womankind, he was first about to
set out to accuse his poor sister of having cast away the affections
of a man whom she evidently loved, and to insist upon her recalling
him. Then, however, he remembered the immediate business that had
brought him there, and despair took possession of him. The ten
thousand pounds were not forthcoming, Burrel was gone, Lord
Ashborough's agent was to be down the next morning, and William
Delaware knew that the effect upon his father's mind was likely to be
terrible, if the necessary sum could not be procured in time.
"Good God!" he exclaimed, at length, "this is most unfortunate,
indeed. What is to be done? Do you think your master could not be
overtaken? I have business to settle with him of the utmost
importance, which must be concluded to-day."
"My master left me a great many things, sir, to settle for him,"
replied the servant; "and perhaps that which you speak of was among
them. He told me to call upon Mr. Tims, and--"
"That is exactly the question," cried Captain Delaware, interrupting
him. "Have you got the money!"
"What!" cried Harding, almost as eagerly. "Has the money not been
paid?"
"No, indeed!" answered Captain Delaware. "His agents declared that
they had not assets--that a part of the sum--no less than ten thousand
pounds--had not been paid into their hands!"
"It's a juggle!" cried the servant--"I see it all! It is a juggle of
that rogue in grain, Peter Tims--No, sir, my master never dreamed that
the money would not be paid; and he only ordered me to tell Mr. Tims
at Ryebury, that he was to send up all papers for him to the lawyers
in London, as my master talks of going abroad. But I can set all
right, yet, sir, I think. Mr. Burrel has only gone to Dr. Wilton's at
present, and I know he will not be angry with me for going after him
to tell him all that has happened; and I will make bold to tell him,
too, a great many things he does not know. So make your mind easy,
sir. I beg your pardon for the liberty--but, depend upon it, the money
shall be at Ryebury before to-morrow morning."
Captain Delaware paused a moment to think; for there was something
unpleasant to his feelings in seeming to press for Henry Beauchamp's
assistance, especially as he knew not what might have passed between
him and Blanche. But there was no choice but to do so, or to plunge
his family into ruin; and his meditation on the subject was brought to
an end by Harding--who was a man of fine feelings himself when it
suited him--declaring that he held it his bounden duty to inform his
master immediately, whether Captain Delaware liked it or not.
Captain Delaware, however, reflecting that Beauchamp was his cousin,
and that no other resource was open to him, did not oppose the man's
determination; and it being settled that Harding should mount one of
his master's horses, and follow him to Dr. Wilton's rectory
immediately, the young officer with a mind much relieved, returned
toward his paternal dwelling, meditating a severe cross-examination
for Blanche, and internally declaring, "That Harding is a very honest
fellow!"