ACCUSATIONS AND EXPLANATIONS.
It was seven o'clock in the evening.
Count Alteroni was sipping his claret; the countess was reading a new
German novel; and the Signora Isabella was sitting in a pensive and
melancholy mood, apparently occupied with some embroidery or other
fancy-work, but in reality bent only upon her own painful reflections.
The air of this charming girl was languishing and sorrowful; and from
time to time a tear started into her large black eye. That crystal drop
upon the jet fringe of her eye-lid, seemed like the dew hanging on the
ebony frame of a window.
The delicate hue of the rose which usually coloured her cheeks, and
appeared as it were beneath the complexion of faint bistre which denoted
her Italian origin, had fled; and her sweet vermilion lips were no
longer wreathed in smiles.
"Isabel, my love," said the count, "you are thoughtful this evening.
What a silly girl you are to oppose that tyrannical little will of your
own to my anxious hopes and wishes for your welfare--especially as I
must know so much better than you what is for your good and what is
not."
"I think," answered Isabella, with a deep sigh, "that I oppose no
tyrannical will to your lordship's commands."
"Lordship's commands!" repeated the count, somewhat angrily. "Have I not
ordered our rank and station to be forgotten here--in England? And as
for commands, Bella," added the nobleman, softening, "I have merely
expressed my wish that you should give Mr. Greenwood an opportunity of
proving his disinterested affection and securing your esteem--especially
on the occasion of our approaching visit to our friends the Tremordyns."
"My dear papa," answered the signora, "I have faithfully promised you
that if Mr. Greenwood should gain my affections, he shall not sue in
vain for my hand."
"That is a species of compromise which I do not understand," exclaimed
the count. "Have you any particular aversion to him?"
"I have no aversion--but I certainly have no love," replied Isabella
firmly; "and where there is not love, dear father, you would not have me
wed?"
"Oh! as for love," said the count, evading a direct reply to this query,
"time invariably thaws away those stern resolves and objections which
young ladies sometimes choose to entertain, in opposition to the wishes
of their parents."
"My lord, I have no power over volition," exclaimed Isabella, with
difficulty restraining her tears.
"This is very provoking, Isabella--very!" said the count, drinking his
claret with rapidity. "This man is in every way worthy of you--rich,
genteel, and good-looking. As for his rank--it is true that he has no
title: but of what avail to us are rank and title--exiled as we are from
our native land--"
"Oh! my dear father!" cried Isabella, wiping her eyes; "do not fancy so
ill of me as to suppose that I languish for rank, or care for honour!
No--let me either possess that title which is a reflection of your own
when in Castelcicala;--or let me be plain Signora Isabella in a foreign
land. Pomp and banishment--pride and exile, are monstrous
incongruities!"
"That is spoken like my own dear daughter," exclaimed the count. "The
sorrows of my own lot are mitigated by the philosophy and firmness with
which you and your dear mother support our change of fortunes;--and,
alas! I see but little chance of another re-action in our favour. O my
dear country! shall I ever see thee more? Wilt thou one day recognise
those who really love thee?"
A profound silence ensued: neither of the ladies chose to interrupt the
meditations of the patriot; and he himself rose and paced the room with
agitated steps.
"And it is this despair when I contemplate my future prospects,"
continued the nobleman, after a long pause, "that induces me to wish to
see you speedily settled and provided for, my dearest Isabella. What
other motive can I have but your good?"
"Oh! I know it--I know it, my dear father," cried the charming girl;
"and it is that conviction which makes me wretched when I think how
reluctant I am to obey you in this instance. But do not grieve yourself,
my dear father--and do not be angry with me! I will be as civil and
friendly as I can to this Mr. Greenwood; and if--and if----"
The beautiful Italian could say no more: her heart was full--almost to
bursting; and throwing herself into her mother's arms, she wept
bitterly.
The count, who was passionately attached to his daughter, was deeply
affected and greatly shocked by this demonstration of her feelings. He
had flattered himself that her repugnance to Mr. Greenwood was far from
being deeply rooted, and was merely the result of a young girl's fears
and anxieties when she found that she was not romantically attached to
her suitor. But he little suspected that she cherished a sincere and
tender passion for another--a passion which she might essay in vain to
conquer.
"Bella, my darling," he exclaimed, "do not give way to grief: you cannot
think that I would sacrifice you to gold--mere gold? No--never, never!
Console yourself--you shall never be dragged a victim to the altar!"
"My dearest father," cried Isabella, turning towards the count and
embracing him fondly,--"God, who reads all my actions, knows that I
would make any sacrifice to please you--to spare you one pang--to
forward your views! Oh! believe me, I am too well aware of the deep
responsibility under which I exist towards my parents--too deeply imbued
with gratitude for all your kindness towards me, not to be prepared to
obey your wishes!"
"I will exact no sacrifice, dearest girl," said the count. "Compose
yourself--and do not weep!"
At that moment a loud double knock at the front door resounded through
the house; and scarcely had Isabella, recovered her self-possession,
when Mr. Greenwood was announced.
"Ladies, excuse this late visit," said the financier, sailing into the
room with his countenance wreathed into the blandest smiles; "but the
truth is, I had business in the neighbourhood, and I could not possibly
pass without stopping for a few moments at a mansion where there are
such attractions."
These last words were addressed pointedly to Isabella, who only replied
to the compliment by a cold bow.
"Count," said Mr. Greenwood, now turning towards the nobleman, "I have
not seen you since your adventure upon the highway! But I was delighted
to learn that you had received no injury."
"My only regret is that I did not shoot the villains," answered the
count. "Have you had another deed prepared, to replace the one stolen
from me on that occasion?"
"I have given my solicitors the necessary instructions," answered
Greenwood. "In a few days----"
"Every thing with you is in a few days, Greenwood," interrupted the
count, somewhat pointedly. "That deed would not occupy one day to
engross, now that the copy is at your attorney's office; and it would
have been a mark of goodwill on your part--"
"Pray do not blame me!" exclaimed the financier, smiling so as to
display his very white teeth, of which he seemed not a little proud. "I
believe that for a man who has so much business upon his hands, and the
interests of so many to watch and care for, I am as punctual to my
appointments as most people."
"I do not speak of want of punctuality in keeping appointments," said
the nobleman: "but I allude to the neglect of a matter which to you may
appear trivial, but which to me is of importance."
"Oh! my dear count--we will repair this little error the day after
to-morrow--or the next day," answered Mr. Greenwood: "I wish that every
body was as regular and as punctual with me, as I endeavour to be with
others; and that punctuality on my part, my dear sir, has been the
origin of my fortune. I do not like to speak of myself, ladies--I hate
egotism--but really," he added with another smile, "when one is
attacked, you know----"
At that moment a domestic entered the room, and handed a letter to the
countess, who immediately opened it, glanced towards the signature, and
exclaimed almost involuntarily, "From Richard Markham!"
"Richard Markham!" cried Mr. Greenwood: "I thought I understood you that
that gentleman had ceased to visit or correspond with you?"
"So I said--and so I shall maintain!" exclaimed the count. "My dear, we
will return that letter without reading it."
"But I have already commenced the perusal of it," said the countess,
without taking her eyes off the paper: "and----"
"Then read no more," cried the count, angrily.
"Excuse me--I shall read it all," answered the countess significantly:
"and so will you."
"What means this?" ejaculated the count. "Have I lost all authority in
my own house? Madam, I command you----"
"There--I have finished it, and I implore you to read it yourself. Its
contents are highly important, and do not in any way relate to certain
recent events. Indeed he has purposely avoided any thing which may
appear obtrusive, either in the shape of explanation or apology."
The count took the letter with a very ill grace, and requested Mr.
Greenwood's permission to read it. This was of course awarded; and the
nobleman commenced the perusal. He had not, however, read many lines,
before he gave a convulsive start, and looked mistrustfully upon Mr.
Greenwood (who noticed his emotion), and hastily ran his eye over the
remainder of the letter's contents.
He then folded up the letter, and appeared to be absorbed in deep
thought for several moments. Mr. Greenwood saw that the note bore some
allusion to himself, and prepared his mind for any explanation, or any
storm.
The countess sate, pale and unhappy, in deep meditation; and the eyes of
Isabella wandered anxiously from one to the other.
At length the count, in a tone which showed with how much difficulty he
suppressed an outbreak of his irritated feelings, turned abruptly
towards Mr. Greenwood, exclaiming, "Pray, sir, how long is it since you
were acquainted with one George Montague?"
Mr. Greenwood was not taken at all aback. This was a question to which
he was always liable, and for which he was constantly prepared. He
accordingly answered, with his usual smile of complaisance, in the
following manner:--
"Oh! my dear sir, I presume you are acquainted with the fact that my
name was once Montague, since you ask me that question. I may also
suppose that some one has communicated that circumstance to you with a
desire to prejudice me in your opinion; but I can assure you that I have
not changed my name for any sinister purpose. My only motive was the
request of an old lady, who left me a considerable property some time
ago, upon that condition."
"And you can also explain, perhaps, the nature of your dealings with a
certain Mr. Allen?" demanded the count, staggered at the assurance with
which Mr. Greenwood met an accusation that the nobleman imagined would
have overwhelmed him with confusion.
"My dear sir," replied the financier, very far from betraying any
embarrassment, whatever he might have felt, "I can explain that and
every other action of my life. I was myself misled--I was duped--I was
involved in an enterprise which entailed ruin upon myself and all
connected with me. I suffered along with the others, and gave up all to
the creditors. I have, however, been enabled to build up my fortunes
again by means of the property left to me, and a series of successful
operations. All people in commercial and financial affairs are liable to
disappointment and embarrassment: the most cautious may over-speculate
or miscalculate; and how can I be blamed more than another?"
"I will admit that a particular enterprise may fail," said the count:
"but the writer of this letter explained to me on one or two occasions,
enough to enable me to comprehend the whole machinery of fraud which you
put into motion to obtain money from the public; and though he never
mentioned any names until to-day, in his letter, I might----"
"Every man has his enemies," said Mr. Greenwood, calmly: "I cannot hope
to be without mine. They may assert what they choose: upright and
impartial men never listen to one-sided statements. But perhaps the
writer of that letter----"
"He is the Mr. Markham of whom I have often spoken to you, and
concerning whom you were always asking me questions. I could not
conceive," proceeded the count, "why you were so curious to pry into his
affairs, especially as when I mentioned you to him by the name of
Greenwood, he did not seem to know any thing about you. But I can now
well understand why _you_ should wish to know something of a man whom
you ruined!"
"I ruined!" cried Mr. Greenwood, now excited for the first time since
the commencement of this dialogue, and speaking with an air of unfeigned
astonishment. "There must be some mistake in this! I never had any
dealings with him in my life, which could either cause his ruin or
establish his prosperity."
"You took very good care, it would appear, not to do the latter," said
the count. "But probably Mr. Markham's letter will explain to you that
which you appear to have forgotten."
Count Alteroni handed the letter to Mr. Greenwood, who perused its
contents with intense interest and anxiety.
The count, the countess, and the signora watched his countenance as he
read it. Proficient in the art of duplicity as he was,--skilled in all
the wiles of hypocrisy and deceit, he could not conceal his emotions
now. There was something in that letter which chased the colour from his
cheeks, and convulsed his whole frame with extreme agony.
"This is indeed singular!" he murmured, turning the letter over and over
in his hand. "Who would have suspected that Allen was merely an agent?
who could have foreseen _where that blow was to strike_?
Strange--unaccountable concatenation of unfortunate circumstances!"
"Is the writer of that letter correct in his statement?" demanded the
count imperiously.
"The information given to you by Mr. Markham, relative to the losses
experienced by a certain Mr. Allen, is correct," returned Mr. Greenwood,
apparently labouring under considerable excitement. "But, I take my God
to witness, that, until this moment, I was unaware that either Mr.
Monroe or Mr. Markham were in the remotest way connected with that
affair; and I also solemnly protest that I would have given worlds
sooner than have been the means of injuring either of them!"
"You admit, then, that you defrauded the people who at that time placed
their funds in your hands?" said the count.
"I admit nothing of the kind," returned the financier, now recovering
his presence of mind: "I admit nothing so base as your insinuation
implies."
"Then wherefore were you so agitated when you perused that letter from
Mr. Richard Markham?"
"Count Alteroni, I am not aware that I owe you any explanation of my own
private feelings. It is true, I _was_ agitated--and I am still deeply
grieved, to think that my want of judgment and foresight in a certain
speculation should have involved in ruin those whom I wish well! But I
suffered as well as they--I lost as many thousands as they did,"
continued Mr. Greenwood, passing once more into that system of
plausible, specious, and deceptive reasoning, which lulled so many
suspicions, and closed the eyes of so many persons with regard to his
real character: "and although I have done nothing for which I can be
blamed by the world, I may still reproach myself when I find that others
whom I care for have suffered by my speculations."
The count was staggered at this expression and honourable manifestation
of feeling on the part of one whom he had a few minutes ago begun to
look upon as a selfish adventurer, callous to all humane emotions and
philanthropic sentiments.
Mr. Greenwood continued:--
"When that unfortunate speculation of mine took place, I was not so
experienced in the sinuosities of the commercial and financial worlds as
I am now.--I lost my all, and poverty stared me in the face."
Mr. Greenwood's voice faltered, although he was now once more uttering a
tissue of falsehoods.
"But by dint of some good fortune and much hard toil and unwearied
application to business, I retrieved my circumstances. Now, answer me
candidly, Count Alteroni; is there any thing dishonourable in my career?
Will you judge a man upon an _ex-parte_ statement? Is not one story very
good until another be told? Why, if all persons viewed their affairs
constantly in the same light, would there be any business for the civil
tribunals? Do not plaintiff and defendant invariably survey the point at
issue between them under discrepant aspects? If they did not, wherefore
do they go to law? You may allow Mr. Markham and Mr. Monroe to entertain
their views; you will also permit me to enjoy mine?"
"Mr. Greenwood," said the count, "I am afraid I have been too
severe--nay, even rude in my observations. You will forgive me?"
"My dear sir, say not another word," ejaculated the financier, chuckling
inwardly at the triumphant victory which he had thus gained over the
suspicions of the Italian nobleman.
At that moment a servant entered the room, and informed Count Alteroni
"that the Earl of Warrington was in the drawing-room, and requested an
interview, at which his lordship would not detain the count above ten
minutes."
The count, having desired Mr. Greenwood not to depart until his return,
and apologising for his temporary absence, proceeded to the
drawing-room, where the Earl of Warrington awaited him.
The earl rose when the count entered the apartment; and that proud,
wealthy, and high-born English peer wore an air of profound respect and
deference, as he returned the salutation of the Italian exile.
"Your lordship," said the earl, "will, I hope, pardon this intrusion at
so unseemly an hour----"
"The Earl of Warrington is always welcome," interrupted Count Alteroni;
"and if I cannot give him so princely a reception in England as I was
proud to do in Italy, it is my means and not my will, which is the
cause."
"My lord, I beseech you not to allude to any discrepancy in that
respect--a discrepancy which I can regret for your lordship only, and
not for myself," said the earl. "Indeed, I am so far selfish on the
present occasion, that I am come to ask a favour."
[Illustration]
"Name the matter in which my poor services can avail your lordship,"
returned the count, "and I pledge myself in advance to meet your
wishes."
"My lord," said the Earl of Warrington, "I must inform your lordship
that I am somewhat interested in a cousin of mine of the name of Eliza
Sydney. This lady loved a man who was unworthy of her--a wretch whose
pursuits are villany, and who enriches himself at the expense of the
unwary and confiding. The heartless scoundrel to whom I allude, and the
full measure of whose infamy was only exposed to me this day, has
endeavoured to possess himself of the person of Eliza in a manner the
most atrocious and cowardly. My lord, he employed a confederate to
administer soporific drugs to her; but Providence moved that
confederate's heart, and frustrated the damnable scheme."
"And can such conduct go unpunished in this land of excellent laws and
unerring justice?" inquired the count.
"Ah! my lord," replied the earl, "this man is possessed of great wealth,
and consequently of great influence; for, in England, _money_ is
_power_! Moreover, the complete chain of evidence is wanting; and then
exposure to the female in such a case is almost equal to a stigma and to
shame! To continue my brief tale, my lord--this man, with a demon heart,
is one who will persecute my cousin Eliza to the very death. A lady of
my acquaintance, who can also tell a tale of the unequalled villany of
this George Montague Greenwood----"
"What!" ejaculated the count; "do I hear aright? or do my ears deceive
me? What name did you give the miscreant who administered opiate drugs
to a woman with the foulest of motives?"
"George Montague Greenwood," repeated the earl.
"O God!" ejaculated the count, sinking back in his chair, and covering
his face with his hands; "I thank thee that thou hast intervened, ere it
was too late, to prevent that fearful sacrifice of my daughter!"
"Pardon me, my lord," exclaimed the earl, "if I have awakened any
disagreeable reminiscences, or produced impressions----"
"Your lordship has done me an infinite service, in fully opening my eyes
to the villany of a man whose damnable sophistry glosses over his crimes
with so deceptive a varnish, that the sight is dazzled when
contemplating his conduct."
As the count uttered these words he wrung the hands of the English peer
with the most friendly and grateful warmth.
"Another time, my lord," continued the Italian noble, "I will explain to
you the cause of my present emotions. You will then perceive how
confirmed a miscreant is this Greenwood. In the meantime tell me how I
can aid your lordship?"
"I was about to inform you, my lord," continued the Earl of Warrington,
"that Miss Sydney, alarmed and appalled at the persecution of this man,
who seems to spare neither expense nor crime to accomplish any purpose
upon which he has once set his mind, has determined to sojourn for a
time upon the Continent. Your lordship is aware that I possess a humble
villa in the suburbs of Montoni----"
"A beautiful residence, on the contrary," said the count; "and where,"
he added with a sigh, "in happier times I have partaken of your
hospitality."
"Yes, your lordship has honoured me with your society at that retreat,"
said the earl, with a low and deferential bow. "It is to that villa that
I now propose to despatch my cousin, in order that she may escape the
persecutions and the plots of this vile Greenwood. The object of my
present visit is to solicit your lordship for a few letters of
introduction for Miss Sydney to some of those families in Montoni with
whom she may experience the charms of profitable and intellectual
society."
"With much pleasure," answered the count. "When does Miss Sydney propose
to leave England?"
"The day after to-morrow, my lord."
"To-morrow evening your lordship shall receive the letters which Miss
Sydney requires. They will of course be unsealed--both in observance of
the rules of etiquette, and on account of the custom-house officers in
the continental states; but your lordship will take care that they be
not opened in England."
"I comprehend you, my lord. The incognito which your lordship chooses to
preserve in this country shall not be disturbed by any indiscretion on
the part of myself or of those connected with me."
The Earl of Warrington then took his leave.
The moment he had departed, the count rang the bell, and said to the
servant who answered the summons, "Request Mr. Greenwood to favour me
with his company in this room--_here_!"
In another minute the financier was introduced into the saloon which the
count was pacing with uneven and agitated steps.
"Mr. Greenwood," said the Italian nobleman, "I think you recollect the
subject of our conversation when I was called away by the visit of the
Earl of Warrington?"
"Perfectly," answered the financier, who perceived that there was again
something wrong. "I remember that you made many accusations against me,
all of which I most satisfactorily explained--insomuch that you very
handsomely apologised for the severity of your language."
"Then, sir," continued the count, with difficulty restraining his
impatience while Mr. Greenwood thus delivered himself, "if you be really
such an honourable and such an injured man as you would represent, and
if you be really grieved when you hear that a fellow-creature has been
ruined by the failure of your speculations, have the kindness to return
me the money which I have confided to you, and I shall be inclined to
think of you as you choose to think of yourself. To tell the truth, I am
already sick of the uncertainty of speculation; and would rather
withdraw from the enterprise altogether."
"Really, my dear sir," said Mr. Greenwood, "this demand is so very
irregular--so exceedingly unbusiness-like----"
"We will not place it upon the footing of _business_, sir," interrupted
the count emphatically; "we will place it upon the basis of _honour_."
"Honour and business with me, my dear sir, are synonymous," said the
financier with a smile.
"So much the better!" ejaculated the count: "I see that we shall not
dispute over this matter. The whole is summed up in a few words: return
me the money I have placed in your hands."
"These things cannot be done in a hurry, my dear sir," said Mr.
Greenwood, playing with a very handsome gold guard-chain which festooned
over his waistcoat.
"Either you have made away with my money, or you have it in your
possession still," exclaimed the count. "If you have it, give me a
cheque upon your banker for the amount: if you have placed it out at
interest, give me security.
"I must observe to you that the whole proceeding is most irregular,"
said Mr. Greenwood: "and the business requires mature reflection.
Moreover, all my funds are locked up for the moment."
"Then how would you carry out the enterprise for which I embarked my
capital?" demanded the count.
"You must be aware," replied the financier, "that capitalists--like
me--always lay out their cash to the greatest advantage, and make use of
bills and negotiable paper of various descriptions. Thus, I could build
a dozen steam-packets in a few weeks, and pay for them all without
actually encroaching upon my capital!"
"I understand you, sir," said the count: "and in order to meet your
convenience, I am ready to receive the securities you mention, payable
at early dates, instead of specie."
"Oh! well--that alters the question," cried Mr. Greenwood, an idea
apparently striking him at that moment. "I am acquainted with one of the
richest bankers in London--intimately acquainted with him: would you
have any objection for him to take my place in respect to you, and
become the holder of your capital--say for a period of six months?"
"Who is the banker?" asked the count.
"James Tomlinson," answered the financier.
"I know the name well. Are you serious in your proposal?"
"Call upon me to-morrow at twelve o'clock, and we will proceed together
to Mr. Tomlinson's banking house in the City. I will have the whole
affair arranged for you in the course of an hour after our arrival at
his establishment."
"I rely upon your word, Mr. Greenwood," returned the count.
The financier then took his departure.