The Earl of Ashborough was a good deal disturbed, as the reader who
remembers all the transactions which had before occurred, may easily
imagine. His nephew's return had certainly been a very joyful event;
but it was not unaccompanied by many drawbacks. Thus there was the
probable overthrow of all his schemes against the Delawares, a
considerable loss of money, which was painful to the noble earl just
in proportion as his fortune was immense; and last, not least, there
was a chance--a strong chance--of certain unpleasant imputations
lighting on his character, and of certain disclosures being made in
regard to his plans, which he would rather have died to avoid than
live to see.
The hatred which had rooted itself so deeply in his heart against Sir
Sidney Delaware, had lost none of its freshness--the spirit of revenge
kindled long ago, and fed with a thousand slight circumstances through
a long lapse of years, had lost none of its intensity; but still, for
the time, the fear of shame and dishonor was paramount, and the earl
cursed the day in which he had been tempted to risk one rash step in
pursuit of vengeance.
He determined, however, to lay the whole blame upon Mr. Tims, and if
Beauchamp could prove the lawyer had reason to know that Captain
Delaware was innocent, to affect vast indignation at his conduct; and
to cast him off with all those signs of abhorrence and contempt which
would exculpate himself in the eyes of the world from any
participation in his evil designs. Of the pecuniary loss, too, which
he was likely to suffer by the whole affair, he resolved to make the
most, as a proof that he had been himself deceived and plundered; and
by exclaiming loudly against the perfidy of his agent, to cast a dark
shade of suspicion upon every assertion that Mr. Tims might make, as
springing from the mere malice of a discharged agent. There was one
subject of self-gratulation in Lord Ashborough's breast, which was
doubly sweet, as it flattered his ideas of his own wisdom, and
afforded the best point in his situation with regard to Mr. Tims. This
was the fact of never having committed himself on paper, in regard to
the family of Sir Sidney Delaware, or his purposes of revenge against
them, and he resolved to make the most of that also.
After long consideration of all these particulars, he believed that he
could luckily act toward his lawyer exactly as if he himself had been
perfectly pure and spotless in the whole transaction. He accordingly
sent off a note to Mr. Tims, requesting his presence at eleven o'clock
on the following day, having determined that, in the first instance,
he would give the attorney every sort of gentlemanly support in his
encounter with Beauchamp; but that, if he found Beauchamp's charge
could be made good against the lawyer, he would instantly throw him
off, dismiss him from his employment, and treat him with proud and
indignant contempt.
All these thoughts occupied him some time, and it was late before he
entered the drawing-room, where his nephew and niece were already
waiting; but the space thus employed had fully restored his
equanimity, and the dinner passed over with a degree of cheerfulness
and ease on his part, which Beauchamp had almost doubted that his
uncle would be able to maintain. The evening was equally tranquil; his
wandering nephew's adventures seemed to afford Lord Ashborough fully
as much matter of interest and amusement as it did to Miss Beauchamp,
and their party broke up late, after a pleasant and a tranquil night.
The next morning, the earl perhaps felt a little nervous; but he had
that most blessed quality, which was very probably the subject of the
Scotch pedlar's aspirations, when he added to his prayers, "God send
us a good conceit of ourselves;" and being very far from ever thinking
that he could, by any chance, have acted grossly amiss, he soon
recovered from his more serious apprehensions of the world's censure,
though he admitted that occasionally mankind did put a misconstruction
on the most virtuous conduct; but he trusted that his own character
was too well established to permit of such a result.
With this proud consciousness--we can not say of virtue--but at least
of an established reputation, which often does quite as well, the earl
proceeded after breakfast to his library, accompanied by his nephew,
and, ringing the bell, desired to know whether Mr. Tims had arrived.
The servant replied in the negative; and, after having ordered the
lawyer to be admitted when he did appear, he turned to Beauchamp,
observing that the fellow had grown somewhat negligent of late, since
he had succeeded to his uncle's fortune.
The earl had scarcely concluded his sentence, when Mr. Tims himself
appeared at the door, bowing low, with habitual reverence for Turkey
carpets and ormolu, even before he was completely in the room. On
seeing Beauchamp, which he did the very next moment--as that gentleman
had placed himself at the bay window, and turned round on hearing the
door open--Mr. Tims had nearly fallen prostrate on the floor; and
pale, pale, pale, did he become, with the exception of the red climax
to his nose, which remained of its own ruby hue, while all around
grew, white. His impudence, however, which was a very ph[oe]nix, and
was ever renewed from its own ashes, came instantly to his aid; and,
advancing with a smile of simpering joy, he exclaimed, "Goodness, Mr.
Beauchamp! I am surprised, sir, and delighted to see you. We all
thought you drowned!"
"Of your surprise, Mr. Tims," replied Beauchamp, "I have no doubt; of
your delight, I am not quite so sure; and as to my being drowned, I
know every one believed it, and no one more thoroughly than yourself,
Mr. Tims."
"I beg pardon, sir!--I beg pardon!--but you seem offended," said Mr.
Tims, assuming the aspect of injured innocence. "I meant no offense,
sir--my lord, have I said any thing offensive?"
"No, Mr. Tims! No!" replied Lord Ashborough. "Be so good as to take a
seat, sir; I am inclined to believe that my nephew misconceives you;
but he will explain himself, for it is on his business I sent for
you."
"Oh, is that the case!" exclaimed the lawyer, who began to feel
somewhat perplexed at his situation. "If your lordship had let me know
that such was your purpose, I might have come prepared."
"I acted, Mr. Tims, as I thought best," answered the peer, coldly;
"and I confess I do not see what need you could have for preparation."
"Why, I do think, sir, all things considered," replied the lawyer--"I
do think your lordship might have given me intimation, as the business
in which I am engaged on your lordship's account--"
"Has nothing on earth to do with my nephew, nor my nephew with it, Mr.
Tims!" replied Lord Ashborough, sternly. "We will keep to the point,
sir, if you please. Henry, you said you had some questions to ask this
person; you had better ask them."
"Person!" muttered Mr. Tims, fidgeting on his chair. "Person!" but he
had soon more serious matter to think of; for Beauchamp, approaching
the table, sat down at the side next the window, and taking out his
pocket-book, spoke in a calm, mild tone, which had grown infinitely
more moderate than at first, as he saw the terrible agitation under
which the unhappy man labored.
"Now, Mr. Tims," he said, "I neither want to puzzle you nor to annoy
you, by what I am going to ask; but there are certain matters on which
you must give a full explanation, both for my satisfaction and my
uncle's--"
"No, no, Henry, pardon me!" interrupted the earl; "the business is
yours alone--I am perfectly satisfied for my part--I have heard a
charge, but no proof; and, consequently, I should be doing injustice
to Mr. Tims were I to be dissatisfied."
"My lord, the business is certainly mine," replied Beauchamp; "but it
is also yours to the extent of at least ten thousand pounds, if not
more--but to the point. My first question is, Mr. Tims, how you came
to detain, upon the pretense that it had been stolen from your uncle,
the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds, paid by Sir Sidney Delaware to
you, as Lord Ashborough's agent, when, at the time you detained it
upon that pretext, you perfectly well knew that it had not been
stolen, and that it had been put in Captain Delaware's room by me?"
"But I never knew any such thing, sir!" replied Mr. Tims. "I believed,
as every body else believed, that Captain Delaware, when he murdered
my poor unhappy uncle, had stolen those notes; and permit me to say,
sir," he added, assuming a slight touch of bluster--"permit me to say,
I had better cause to believe such to be the case, than you have to
accuse me of actions I should despise, sir. What reason had I to
suppose you placed the money there?"
"Nay, nay, Mr. Tims," said Beauchamp, calmly, "do not lose your
temper; remember, sir, passion may throw you off your guard, and you
will yet have occasion for all your wit in your exculpation. You ask
what reason you had to suppose I placed the money in Captain
Delaware's room; I will tell you, Mr. Tims. First, because, among your
uncle's papers, you found an acquittance in my handwriting for the
sum of fifteen thousand pounds, received by him on my account from
Messrs. Steelyard and Wilkinson--"
"But, sir! But, sir!" cried Mr. Tims.
"Do not interrupt me, sir," said Beauchamp. "Next, I say, because you
found a note of hand signed by me for the sum of ten thousand pounds,
advanced to me by your uncle, and dated on the very day on which he
was murdered, poor man!"
"But listen to me, Henry," said Lord Ashborough. "All this does not
show that Mr. Tims knew that these several sums had been appropriated
by you in the somewhat Quixotical manner that, as it proves, they were
employed."
"It is, at least, a strong presumption that he might have known it if
he had liked," replied Beauchamp; adding, with a smile, "especially
when he knew me to be of a Quixotical disposition, and when William
Delaware himself pointed me out as the only person likely to have
placed them there--but you must remember, also, that the sum was
precisely the same, and that, knowing I had received it--"
"I must once more interrupt you, Mr. Beauchamp," said the lawyer, with
a dignified air; "but you are, and have been assuming as facts what
are not facts. I _did not_ know that you had received that sum--I
found no document--at least, I have as yet found no document among my
late uncle's papers, which refers to the sum of fifteen thousand
pounds received on your account, and handed over to you in due
course; and therefore, sir, the basis of your argument is erroneous,
although--as my noble patron declares, with his usual candor and
perspicuity--even were it all true--had I discovered by the papers of
which you speak, that my uncle had paid you the precise sum, still I
had no proof that there was any connection between that fact and the
payment made to me at Emberton Park."
"There was a strong presumption, at least, Mr. Tims," replied
Beauchamp, who had listened with the utmost calmness; "and I certainly
can not prove that you have found the document referring to the
fifteen thousand pounds, _as yet_. Allow me to compliment you on the
introduction of those two words--I certainly can not prove that you
have found my acquittance to your uncle."
"Well, then, Henry," said the earl, with a benign smile to Mr. Tims,
"I think your evidence halts."
"Your pardon, my lord," replied Beauchamp; "I am only disposing of one
part of the subject first--you may not have found it, Mr. Tims, _as
yet_; but let me tell you, sir, that you must find it, or account to
my solicitors for fifteen thousand pounds received by your late uncle
on my account."
Mr. Tims turned very red; for he saw that he was nearer to the horns
of that ugly beast, a dilemma, than he had imagined. Still, however,
he thought that he had triumphantly opposed Beauchamp's charge, and
therefore he replied, with a very tolerable degree of coolness, "I
will search for the papers, sir, and of course act according to the
best of my judgment afterward."
"And in the mean time, Mr. Tims," continued Beauchamp, "we will speak
of the ten thousand pounds which I received from your uncle. I think
you acknowledge, or at least tacitly admit, that you found my note of
hand for that amount among your uncle's papers--indeed, it was only
extraordinary that you should overlook the acquittance, which was
pinned to the note, and which you must have separated from it before
you got it stamped, and presented it to my solicitors, in payment of
the sum of ten thousand pounds due to me by Lord Ashborough, as the
balance of our guardianship account."
Mr. Tims's face grew red, and white, and yellow, and blue, by turns.
Never was there such a prismatic complexion as Beauchamp's last speech
produced.
Lord Ashborough watched them all, and then demanded. "Did you presume,
sir, to stop money which I commissioned you to pay, in the way to
which Mr. Beauchamp alludes?"
Mr. Tims was _aux abois_, and consequently he turned upon the weakest
of his pursuers. "I did, indeed, my lord," he said, in a significant
tone--"I did it for the best, both in accordance with your lordship's
views and interests, and my own poor judgment; and I am perfectly
ready to explain my motives either to your lordship alone, or in the
presence of your nephew."
Lord Ashborough changed color also; and bowing his head haughtily, he
said, "that is unnecessary, Mr. Tims, we will speak of all that
concerns myself hereafter."
"Oh, just as your lordship pleases!" said the lawyer--"I have nothing
to conceal."
"I am glad to hear it," said Beauchamp, willing to spare his uncle any
unpleasant discussion, "I am glad to hear it, sir; for now we come to
the most inexplicable part of the whole transaction. I say
inexplicable, because it is quite so to me, how a man of your sagacity
could commit such an oversight as, at the very time he was accusing an
innocent person of murder--at the very time he was retaining in his
hands twenty-five thousand pounds unjustly, on the plea that they had
been stolen--at the very time he was carrying on two ruinous suits at
law against an honorable man for money which had been already paid--I
say, that it is inexplicable to me, how, at the very time he was doing
all this, he should commit such an oversight as to present to my
solicitors this note of hand, on the back of which is written, in my
own writing, the numbers and dates of all the notes I received from
his uncle, and which are the numbers and dates of the very notes that
he was at that time attempting to show were stolen. Look at it, my
lord, and read:--'Numbers and dates of notes received from Mr. Tims of
Ryebury'--and conceive how avarice must have taken hold of a man, ere
he could commit such an egregious blunder. Why, Mr. Tims, could you
not wait a few days--a week, a fortnight, even a month--to make sure
that the fishes had me safe, before you presented this note? By
Heaven, I should have thought such a thing impossible, had I not
often, or rather always seen, that, by what would seem a law of
Providence, the most egregious rogues are always sure to leave some
door open to detection."
Mr. Tims had remained as one struck dumb--not that he had overlooked
the fact which Beauchamp now brought forward; for he had remarked it
from the first, and knew that it might speak strongly against him; but
the desire of retaining the ten thousand pounds had blinded his eyes
to one-half the consequences, and diminished his estimation of the
other--had made him confidently believe that Beauchamp was really
drowned, and that if he were not, he would never remember the
memorandum he had made on the night which gave birth to so many
events. The folly of his conduct, however, now appeared to him in the
most forcible manner, and for the moment completely overpowered him.
Quirks, quibbles, evasions, impudence itself, all deserted him, till,
by the most fortunate chance in the world, Beauchamp pronounced the
word rogue, which instantly called anger to his aid.
"Rogue, sir! Rogue!" he exclaimed, starting up, while the whiteness of
consternation was succeeded in his countenance by the rubicundity of
wrath, "Rogue, sir! The word is actionable! Did you call me a rogue!"
It was too much for human patience. "Yes, sir!" replied Beauchamp, "I
did! and I do! I call you a rogue, because I have proved you one! I
look upon you as a contemptible blackguard, as I have long done; and
if you stare in my face with that air one moment more, I will kick you
from that door into Grosvenor-square--and the passage is a long one!"
Mr. Tims instantly dropped his eyes to the ground, and Lord Ashborough
interfered. "You are too warm, Henry!" he said, seeing evidently that
Mr. Tims must be given up, said therefore that he might as well assume
the character of the dignified, unimpassioned judge. "You are too
warm! but you have made out your charge most completely. Mr. Tims, you
are no longer my solicitor. You must have known, sir, that this
Captain Delaware, whatever faults he may have, and whatever crimes he
may have committed, had not obtained the notes in question by robbing
your uncle--you must have known it, sir--you could not help knowing
it; and I conceive that your having deceived me into taking a great
many steps which might bring my character into disrepute, if it were
not, thank God pretty well established--I say, I conceive your having
done so, to be more base and criminal than even the sort of frauds you
have committed in regard to the different sums of money--which, depend
upon it, shall be strictly investigated."
Loud insolence not having proved at all successful, Mr. Tims now
resorted to dogged impudence. "Your lordship may find cause, upon a
little reflection," he said, moving gradually toward the door, "to
make your measures toward me somewhat more lenient than you propose. I
should be sorry to injure your lordship's well _established
character_; but, of course, if I am attacked, I must defend myself;
and I will take care that my defense shall be public enough. There are
two or three little transactions, which your lordship will think over,
and determine upon having laid open or not, as you please."
"Do you hear the fellow's insolence?" demanded the earl, turning with
a half-smile toward his nephew. "Mr. Tims," he added, "you are
scarcely worthy of contempt. I fear no true statement of any thing I
have done; and I shall take care, if you make any false one, that you
shall be severely punished. You have deceived me, sir, grossly; you
have represented people to me as criminal, who were really innocent;
and you have labored to stir up my indignation against them for your
own base purposes. Do not answer me, sir, but quit the room and the
house; and I shall take care that your accounts be called for, and
examined by one who will look into them thoroughly."
Thus saying, the earl, with a proud and dignified wave of the hand,
pointed to the door. Mr. Tims would fain have added a few words more;
but Lord Ashborough waved him forth again; and there was also a cloud
lowering upon Henry Beauchamp's brow, which boded no very pleasant
results from farther insolence; so that, upon second thoughts, Mr.
Tims judged it best to make his exit tranquilly. This he was suffered
to do; and the door closed upon him forever.