_Coke Clifton to Guy Fairfax_
_London, Dover-Street_
So, Fairfax, you have suffered the lad to escape you; cautioned and
entreated as you were! You know, I suppose, by what means; and with
whom he is at present?--Well, well!--It is no matter--have quarrels
enough on hand, and enemies enough!--I would fain die in peace with
somebody!--I forgive you--I suppose you did your best.
It is exceedingly possible that this may be the last letter you will
ever receive from me. Remember me now and then. Should Henley and Anna
St. Ives survive me, let them know I was not so entirely blind to their
worth as they might perhaps suppose. Shew them my letters if you will:
I care not who sees them now! Let the truth be told! I shall be deaf
enough to censure.
I have just had a visit from the crazy count; a threatening one. A
challenge has passed, and we are to meet to-morrow.
So it is agreed; but I doubt whether I shall keep the appointment. If
there be one spark of resentment in the soul of Henley, it is possible
I may fail. I mean to give him the first chance. It is his by right;
and why should not I do right even to him, once in my life? This
farrago of folly, this pride of birth, and riches, and I know not what
else lumber, is very contemptible!
Fairfax, the present state of my thoughts force more than one truth
upon me. But what have I to do with truth, in a world from which I
learned so much error that it was impossible for me to exist in it?
These wise people should leave us fools to wrangle, be wretched, and
cut each other's throats as we list, without inter-meddling: 'tis
dangerous. But Truth is a zealot; Wisdom will be crying in the streets;
and Folly meeting her seldom fails to deal her blow.
My mind is made up: my affairs are settled, my lawyer has written out
my will, and it is signed. You will find yourself mentioned in it,
Fairfax. I have nominated my sister my executor, and Anna St. Ives my
heir. I have been reading Louisa's letter again: it is full of pathos.
She has more understanding than I have been willing to allow, and I
have relented. She is not forgotten in my will: I would not have her
think of me with everlasting hatred.
I know not how it is, Fairfax, but I feel more compunction, at
present, than I ever remember to have felt before. I am grown into
self-contempt; and the haughty notions, which were the support of my
high and sometimes arrogant conduct, are faded. I could think only of
Coke Clifton, and I now know Coke Clifton to be a very wicked dolt!
Be not deceived by my present tone: make no false predictions in favour
either of myself or Anna St. Ives. Despair and fate are not more fixed
than is my plan. My horse will presently be at the door. I shall mount
him the moment I have ended this letter, and shall proceed directly to
Anna. There, after all is ended, the enchantment too shall end, and the
misventurous lady and her imprisoned knight shall both be set free.
Should Henley, urged by despair to seek revenge, accept my defiance and
meet me in the field, the conflict must be fierce, and such as might
inspire terror.
To say the truth, were it not to prove myself his equal, perhaps his
master and vanquisher, I would not lift my hand against his life. It
would be some relief to my soul to fall by his arm. He is a noble
fellow, and I have done him wrong. Would he or Anna but charitably
strike, I would die blessing them, eased by the expiatory blow. Perhaps
they are the only two beings for whom I ever could have had the same
admiration; and, if what they tell me be true, admiration continued
always ripens into love. They shewed affection toward me, and would, I
believe, have loved me. But we did not understand each other, and the
mistake has been mutually fatal--Would I had never injured them!--But
it is vain!--The die is cast!--We are all fated!--Having accomplished
my revenge, and accomplish it I will, they cannot live and not be
miserable! They must curse my hated memory, and blaspheme against my
honour!--It cannot be otherwise--Let our grave therefore be glorious!
They are brave spirits, and will mock my power even to the last. I love
their high courage. Perhaps they shall find I have a kindred soul!--Oh
would they die forgiving me--!
I know not well whither my thoughts are wandering--They perhaps may
refuse to die--They may say it is their duty to live, even though
doomed to be wretched--I know them--What they think they will
act--Well, well!--Let destiny dispose of events--To me all chances
are welcome, all are alike.
As to this count, should Henley refuse vengeance, I owe him no mercy.
'Twas he who prompted me to the frantic act that first made me the
debtor of the man I have most injured. I almost contemn a foe so
insignificant--Not that he is deficient in bravery, or skill--But what
is he?--What are his wrongs?--'Tis lunacy, not anger rankling at his
heart!--Or if it were?--The hungry wolf-dog is no fit combatant for the
famished lion!