We must now return for a moment to the morning of that day, whose sun
we have just seen go down, and to Blanche Delaware, who sat in her
solitary chamber, with the world feeling all a wide lonely desert
around her. Not a month before, there had not been a happier girl upon
the earth. She had been contented; she had possessed her own little
round of amusements and occupations. She had music, and books, and
flowers and nature, and two beings that she dearly loved, constantly
beside her, and she had never dreamed of more. The buoyancy of health,
and a happy disposition, had raised her mind above the low estate to
which her family had been reduced; and a refined taste, with that
noblest quality of the human mind, which may be called the power of
admiration, had taught her, like the bee, to extract sweetness and
enjoyment from every flower that Heaven scattered on her way. But
since that time she had been taught another lesson--she had been
taught to love! That passion had given a splendor to the world that it
had never before possessed. It had painted the flowers with richer
colors--it had spread a sunshine of its own over the face of
nature--it had given new soul to the music that she loved. The dream
had been broken--the adventitious splendor had passed away; but it
left not the flowers, or the music, or the face of nature, as they
were before. It took from them their own beauties, as well as that
which it had lent them. All had withered, and died; and the world was
a desert.
She had wept long, and bitterly; but she had dried her eyes, and
bathed away the traces of her tears, when her father entered her room,
and inquired tenderly after her health. "You do not look well, indeed,
my dear Blanche," he said; "I wish you would send to Emberton for Mr.
Tomkins."
Blanche assured him, however, that it was nothing but a headache--that
she would be better soon--that she was better already--and that she
was just thinking of coming down stairs. There was, indeed, a sort of
trembling consciousness at her heart, which made her fear, at every
word, that her father was going to touch upon the subject most painful
to her heart; but she soon perceived that no suspicions had been
awakened in his bosom; and she trusted that her brother would share in
her father's blindness, especially as he had been absent so long in
London. In this hope, and as far as possible to remove all cause for
doubt, at least till she was able to bear an explanation, Blanche
nerved her mind to restrain her feelings, and soon followed her father
to the library. It was some time, as we have seen, before William
Delaware returned, and Sir Sidney had walked out a little way toward
Ryebury to meet him; but as he had been since at Emberton, he came, of
course, by a different path, and arrived alone. His mind was in no
slight degree irritated and impatient, from all that had passed; and
poor Blanche had unfortunately so far fallen under his displeasure,
from the facts which the servant had communicated to him, that he was
prepared, as he mentally termed it, to give her a severe scolding;
but when he entered the library, he found her looking so sad and
woe-begone, that his heart melted; and, sitting down beside her on the
sofa, where she had been reading, he took her hand kindly in his, and
asked her after her health, with a look of fraternal affection.
Blanche fancied that he too was deceived, and answered that her
complaint was only a head ache, which would soon pass away.
"Are you sure, my sweet sister," asked Captain Delaware, "that it is
not a heartache, which may be long ere it leave you, if you do not
take the advice of some one who has a right to counsel you!"
The blood rushed burning into Miss Delaware's cheek, and she trembled
violently; but her brother folded his arm round her waist, and still
speaking gently and kindly, he went on: "Hear me, dearest Blanche--We
have been brought up as brother and sister seldom are--shut out the
greater part of our lives from the rest of the world--loving each
other dearly from the cradle--I, seeing little of mankind, except
within the sphere of my own vessel; and you, seeing nothing of mankind
at all. I believe that I have been the only confidant you have had
from childhood, and I do not intend, dearest, that you should withdraw
that confidence from me, till I put this little hand into that of the
only man who ought to be your confidant from that moment." The tears
rolled rapidly over Blanche Delaware's cheeks. "Although it may seem
strange," continued her brother, "that you should be expected to make
a confidant of any man at all in love matters, yet, for want of a
better, Blanche, you must tell me all about it; and, perhaps, I shall
not make the worse depository of a secret, for being a sailor. We are
all tender-hearted, Blanche," he added, with a smile; "at least when
we are on shore. So now tell me--has Mr. Burrel offered you his hand?"
Blanche was silent, though her brother waited during more than one
minute for a reply; but the blood again mounted into her cheek, and
the tears dropped thicker than before. "Well, well," he continued,
"if you can not answer by words, dear sister, I must try and make out
your signals, though I have not, perhaps, the most correct code
myself--Burrel has offered you his hand!" Blanche gently bent her
head. It could scarcely be called an assent; but it was enough for her
brother, and he went on. "Well, then, what was the difficulty! He
loved you, and you loved him."
Blanche would have started up, but her brother's arm held her firmly;
and, as her only resource, she hid her glowing face upon his shoulder,
and sobbed aloud. "Nay, nay, deal girl!" he cried, "Where is the shame
or the harm of loving a man who has long loved you! Do you think I
have not seen your love, my dear sister! And do you think that I would
suffer your heart to be won, unless I knew that the man who sought it,
really loved you and was worthy of you! But tell me, Blanche, where is
the difficulty--what is the obstacle! Some trifle it must be--I will
not call it a caprice, for my sister is above that--but some idle
delicacy--some over-retiring modesty, I am afraid."
"No, no, William, I can assure you!" replied Blanche Delaware, raising
her head; "I could be above all that too--but it can not be."
"But, my dear Blanche," said Captain Delaware, more seriously than he
had hitherto spoken--for he had endeavored to mingle a playfulness
with his tenderness--"but, my dear Blanche, you must assign some
reason--at least to me. Burrel will think that we have all trifled
with him. I stood virtually pledged to him for your hand, on condition
that he won your love. That he must have felt he has done, or that you
have been sporting with him--and such an imputation must not lie on
you, nor must he think that I have deceived him."
"Do you know who he really is?" demanded Blanche, suddenly.
"Yes, Blanche, as well as you do," replied her brother. "He is your
cousin and mine, Henry Beauchamp, whom we have both played with on
that carpet in our childhood."
"It is useless, William--it is all useless!" replied Blanche with a
deep and painful sigh. "But there is my father's step in the hall--let
me go, William, if you love me--and oh, do not, for Heaven's sake,
increase his anxiety just now, by letting him know any thing of all
this! Let me go, my dear brother, I beseech you!" and struggling free,
she made her escape by the door opposite to that by which Sir Sidney
Delaware was just about to enter the library.
Captain Delaware had a painful task before him, in the necessity of
communicating to his father the result of the inquiries he had set out
in the morning to make, although he could not find in his heart to
tell him explicitly upon what doubtful chances his hope of receiving
the money, ere the next morning, was founded. He confined his
information, therefore, as much to general terms as possible; and
informed Sir Sidney that Mr. Tims had not yet indeed received the
money, which was to be furnished by a third party, but that he doubted
not it would be paid that night, or early the next morning, before
Lord Ashborough's lawyer could arrive.
These tidings stopped any further inquiries from Sir Sidney Delaware,
though they did not satisfy or quiet his mind; and he concluded that
his son had told him all he knew, although that all but served to
render him anxious and impatient. He remained restless and disturbed
through the whole of the day; raised a thousand aerial hypotheses in
regard to Mr. Tims's delay--drew a general picture of all misers,
lawyers, and usurers, which might have ornamented the scrap-book of
Eblis--and more than once threatened to visit the worthy proprietor of
Ryebury himself, from which feat he was with difficulty dissuaded by
his son, who, in fact, was but little less anxious than himself.
Perhaps, indeed, Captain Delaware's anxiety was the more keen and
corroding, because he forced himself to conceal it, and to appear
perfectly confident and careless. Blanche, on her part, avoided all
communication with her brother, except that, when they met at dinner
and at tea, her eyes besought him to spare her. The moments waned;
neither Mr. Tims nor Burrel, nor any messenger from either, appeared
during the evening; and, as night began to fall, Captain Delaware's
impatience gradually got the better of his self-command; and finding
himself in the situation of a shell, the fuse of which was rapidly
burning down to the powder, and which must consequently explode in a
short time, he thought it better to carry himself away, and let his
heat and disappointment wreak itself upon any other objects than his
friends and relations.
As the most natural vent for such feelings, he took his way toward
Ryebury; but when he returned, after about an hour's absence, he
appeared to the eyes of his sister--who strove to read his looks with
no small apprehension--more heated and irritable than before.
"Well, William, what does Mr. Tims say now?" demanded Sir Sidney
Delaware, whose own anxiety had at once told him whither his son had
turned his footsteps, although Captain Delaware had given no
intimation of his purpose.
"I have not seen him, sir," was the reply. "The old dotard would not
let me in. Afraid of _robbers_, I suppose. I rang till I was tired,
and then came away. But it is no matter; the money will be forthcoming
to-morrow, I have no doubt. The coach does not arrive till the
afternoon; and Lord Ashborough's solicitor did not come by it
to-night, for I inquired at the inn."
Things which, buoyed up on the life-preserver of a light heart, float
like feathers over all the waves of adversity that inundate this briny
world, sink the soul down to the bottom of despair the moment that the
life preserver, dashed against some sharp rock, or beaten by some more
violent surge, suffers the waters to flow in, and the fine elastic air
to escape. Not many weeks before, Blanche Delaware would have
wondered, in the happy contentedness of her own heart, at the anxiety
and disappointment of her brother and her father, and would have
looked upon the events which they seemed to regret so bitterly, but as
a very small and easily borne misfortune. But in the present
depression of her spirits, it overwhelmed her even more than it did
them. Her own grief was so deep, that she could not well bear any
more; and, soon after her brother's return, she retired to her chamber
to weep.
The night went by, and Blanche and her father descended to the
breakfast-table somewhat earlier than usual; for care makes light
sleepers.
"Is William out?" demanded Sir Sidney Delaware, as he met his
daughter. "I wished to have gone to Ryebury with him."
"I do not think he is down yet," she replied. "I have not seen him,
and yet it is odd he should be the last up to-day."
"Send up and see, my love," said her father; which was accordingly
done, and the result was, that Captain Delaware was found just
dressing. Blanche thought it very strange that on such an occasion her
brother should yield to a laziness he did not usually indulge; but
Captain Delaware seemed in no hurry to come down, and the breakfast
proceeded without him. Before it was concluded, however, and before he
had made his appearance, the sound of wheels coming up the avenue was
heard, and a hack post-chaise drove to the door. The whole proceedings
of its occupants were visible from the breakfast-parlor; and, as Sir
Sidney sat, he could perceive that the first person who got out was a
stout, unpleasant-looking man, in whom, although greatly changed since
last he saw him, he recognized Lord Ashborough's lawyer. The next that
followed was evidently a clerk, and he carried in his hand one of
those ominous-looking bags of green serge. Mr. Peter Tims, immediately
after the descent of the clerk, turned back to the chaise door, and
spoke a few words to some one who remained within, and then followed
the servant up the steps of the terrace.
Blanche looked at her father. He was very pale. "I wish you would call
William, my love," he said, with a faint effort to smile; "we may want
his presence in dealing with these gentlemen."
Blanche hastened to obey, and, almost as she left the room, Mr. Peter
Tims was announced. He entered with a low bow, but a face full of cool
effrontery, which gave the lie to his profound salutation. He
immediately informed Sir Sidney that he now had the pleasure of
waiting upon him to settle the little business between him and his
noble client, Lord Ashborough; and he ended by presenting the bill for
twenty-five thousand pounds, which had now been due nearly two days.
Sir Sidney Delaware begged him to be seated, and then, in an
embarrassed but gentlemanly manner, explained to him that the money
which he had expected to receive, had not yet been paid; but that he
trusted that it would be so in the course of the day.
The face of Mr. Peter Tims grew dark; not that he did not anticipate
the very words he heard, but that he thought fit to suit his looks to
his actions. "Ha! then," he cried, "my lord was right, sir!--my lord
was right, when he said he was sure that the annuity would never be
redeemed, and that the only object was to reduce the interest. But I
can tell you, Sir Sidney, that such conduct will not do with us!" and
he made a sign to his clerk, who instantly left the room. "We had
heard something of this yesterday, and that made me come as far
as ---- last night."
Sir Sidney Delaware's cheek grew red, and his lip quivered, but it was
with anger. "What is the meaning of this insolence, sir?" he demanded,
in a tone that changed Mr. Tims's manner at once from the voluble to
the dogged. "You seem to me to forget yourself somewhat strangely."
"Oh, no, sir, no!" replied the lawyer. "All I have to say is--This, I
think, is your bill--now more than due. Are you ready to take it up?
If not, I must proceed as the law directs."
"And pray, sir, what does the law direct you to do?" demanded Sir
Sidney Delaware, "when the payment of a sum of money is delayed for a
few hours, by some accidental circumstance?"
"It is all very well talking, Sir Sidney," said the man of law; and
was proceeding in the usual strain, when Captain Delaware entered the
room, and passing behind his father, whispered something in the
baronet's ear that made him start. Almost at the same moment, the
lawyer's clerk returned, followed by one of those ill-looking fellows,
who, as poor Colly Cibber declared, were "fitted by nature for doing
ugly work," and consequently, engaged by the sheriffs for that
purpose.
"Which is the gemman, Mr. Tims?" cried the bailiff; for such was the
personage now introduced. "Is't the ould un, or the young un? for we
must not be after mistaking."
"Stop a moment!" cried Captain Delaware. "Pray, who are these persons,
sir?" he continued, addressing Mr. Tims.
"Merely my clerk, sir, my clerk," replied Mr. Tims, who did not
particularly approve the flashing of Captain Delaware's eye. "Merely
my clerk, and an officer of the sheriff's court, instructed to execute
a writ upon the person of Sir Sidney Delaware, at the suit of my noble
lord, the Earl of Ashborough. You know, Captain Delaware," he added,
edging himself round the table to be out of reach of the young
officer's arm--"you know you yourself assured me that the money would
be ready before the time, and now two days have elapsed; so that it is
clear, sir--it is clear, I say, that all this is nothing but
trifling."
"Pray, Mr. Tims," said Captain Delaware, in a milder tone than the
other expected, "answer me one question, as you are a shrewd and
clever lawyer, and I want my mind set at rest."
"Certainly, sir, certainly!" replied Mr. Tims; "very happy to answer
any legal question, provided always, nevertheless, that it does not
affect the interests of my client."
"My question is merely this, sir," answered the young officer, whose
mind--both from what Burrel's servant had let fall, and from his own
observations--had come to the conclusion, that the Messieurs Tims,
uncle and nephew, had combined to prevent the payment of the money.
"My question is merely this--Suppose two or three men were to enter
into an agreement for the purpose of delaying the payment of a sum of
money, in order to arrest a person on a bill they had obtained from
him, would they not be subject to indictment for conspiracy?"
The countenance of Mr. Tims fell; but the moment after, it kindled
again with anger, and he replied, "I will answer that question in
another time and place; and, in the mean time, officer, do your duty!"
"Stand back, sir!" said Captain Delaware, sternly, as the man
advanced. "Mr. Tims, you shall answer that question in another time
and place, and that fully. In the mean time, as you say, be so good as
to present your bill. I shall only observe upon your conduct, that the
fact of your having obtained this very writ, before you had ever
presented the bill for payment, gives a strong presumption that you
had taken means to prevent the money being ready, and concluded that
those means had been successful."
Mr. Tims turned very pale; but he was not one of those unfortunate men
whose impudence abandons them at the moment of need, and he almost
instantly replied, "No, sir, so! It affords no presumption. The fact
is, we never thought the money would be paid. We always knew that the
whole business was an artifice--that you had no honest means of coming
by the money--and, after having allowed one whole day, and a part of
another to elapse, that there might be no excuse, we came prepared to
make the artifice fall upon the heads of those that planned it.
Officer, why do you not execute the writ?"
"Because the gemman demands you should present the bill!" replied the
man.
"The bill matters nothing--the debt has been sworn to," answered Mr.
Tims; "but that there may be no farther quibble--there--there, sir, is
a bill signed by Sir Sidney Delaware for the sum of twenty-five
thousand pounds, which came due the day before yesterday. Are you
ready to pay it? Can you take it up? Are you prepared to discharge
it?"
"We are, sir!" replied Captain Delaware; "and, when we have done so, I
shall take the liberty of caning you for the words you have had the
impudence to use, and the imputations you have been shameless enough
to utter, till you shall have as good an action for battery against
me, as I shall have an indictment for conspiracy against you."
"No, no, William!" said Sir Sidney Delaware. "There is not an
instrument of castigation in the house, from the dog-whip to the stick
with which the boy cudgels the jackass, that would not be disgraced by
touching the back of that man or his instigator."
"First, sir, let us see the money," cried Mr. Tims; "and then let any
man touch me if he dare. The money, sir! Where is the money, I say?"
"Here, sir!" replied Captain Delaware, drawing out a pocket-book.
"Here is the money that you require; and, therefore, before proceeding
to any thing else, we will terminate this business."
It would be difficult, in that confused gabble of a thousand depraved
dialects, which the reviews call "good manly English," to express the
horror and despair of Mr. Peter Tims, at finding that--notwithstanding
all the arts and artifices he had used, and which were a thousandfold
more in number than we have had space to put down--the money had been
obtained; and, therefore, that the patronage and business of Lord
Ashborough might be looked upon as lost to him forever.
Nothing, however, could be done; and he was obliged to sit down and
transact the receipt of the money, and all the other formal business
incident to the occasion, with a bitter heart and a gloomy
countenance. The notes, indeed, which Captain Delaware handed to him,
in discharge of his father's bill, he examined with scrupulous
attention; and had he been able to detect even a suspicious look about
any of them, would probably have made it a plea to delay the
acceptance of the payment; but all was fair and clear; and in half an
hour the bill was paid, and Sir Sidney Delaware's estate was delivered
from the burden which had kept his family in poverty for so many
years. Mr. Tims, indeed, took care to conduct himself with a degree of
irritating insolence, intended, beyond doubt, to tempt the young
officer to strike him as he had threatened, which would probably have
been the case, had not Sir Sidney Delaware pointed out to his son, in
a calm bitter tone, the real object of the lawyer, observing aloud,
that pettifogging attorneys often made considerable sums by carrying
actions of assault into a peculiar court, where the costs to the
offender were very severe.
This turned the scale; and, when the whole was concluded, the lawyer
was suffered to depart, loaded with nothing but disappointment and
contempt.