“Do you understand? He will try to trace you through me. If he
succeeds”--
“There is an end of both of us,” I said cheerfully.
“Well,” he answered, with admiration, “you are a game little partlet.
But remember, at least, that revenge which evokes retribution misses
the best half of itself. For that reason, if for no other, I must keep
away from you. This visit to-night, even--I only dared it after
infinite precautions. If you want me, write: I will risk some means to
see you. For the rest, live close as death, till some of this, at
least, is blown over. Your friend, the pretty simpleton, where is
she?”
“In bed and asleep.”
“Keep her there. Make a dormouse of her. My Lady Sophia is nosing for
her tracks, as my lord her brother for yours. Did you suppose she
would acquiesce quietly in the abduction of her handmaid? I tell you,
she has got wind of the truth; and there has been tempest in the house
of Herring. Keep her close. Above everything, cut all further
communication with the _World_--as you love yourself, and me a little,
perhaps, Diana.”
“As I love the truth,” I said; and went up and kissed him.
“Ah!” he sighed, “that is very pretty. But, believe me, the truth, as
represented by His Majesty, wishes your love at the devil before it
meddled in his family affairs.”
XXIV.
I FIND A FRIEND IN NEED
You know the truth, _mon ami_--that the face which looked in at my
door was the face of my father. O, heavens, the reunion, so wonderful,
so pathetic! and the sequel, so interesting! Truly, through our living
fidelities do the gods chastise our worldliness.
We had not been a day in the house when I ran across him in a passage.
He was, it appeared, one of two gentlemen who lodged below. He was
plainly, almost shabbily dressed; bloated a little; prematurely aged:
but I knew him instantly. Though eleven years had gone since my
childish eyes had last acknowledged and adored him, the instinct of
nature was too sure to be deceived. I gasped, I trembled, as he stood
ogling me; finally I threw myself into his arms.
“Papa!” I cried; “papa!”
“Hey!” he responded; “is that all?”
“Do you not remember your little Diana?” I implored, in an ecstasy of
emotion.
“Wait,” he said, and put a hand to his forehead. “It may be on my
notes. I’ve a damned bad memory.”
The door of a room hard by stood open. He led me in, closed it, and
seated himself officially at a table.
“Now,” he said, “what mother?”
The shock, my friend! I had remembered him so strong and
gallant--wicked, if you will; but then I had always pictured myself
the cherished pledge of his wickedness. And now, it appeared, I was
only one of a large family. Without a word, I turned my back upon him.
“Don’t go,” he said, disturbed at that. “What name did you say?”