highly probable I shall never know how Miss Valmont came by her
information till she herself shall be in my power to tell me; and
further that her knowledge of the affair will greatly tend to forward my
projects, for no longer a dependent but a prisoner she will be rejoiced
to free herself at any hazard from her uncle's galling tyranny.--Do you
not perceive, Walter, how much my prospects are amended by this
disaster? On the second part, I discovered that Mr. Valmont can have but
an obscure and imperfect idea of my being in the castle, from his
mention of a feigned name. I bore no name at all. Certainly my agents
would not betray me. And Valmont must have spoken at random as to the
means.
Out of the foregone conclusions arises the answer to the third part of
my problems.
It would be highly improper for either me or my father to challenge Mr.
Valmont.
What a blessing it is, Sir Knight, to find sympathy in our griefs!--From
the moment my father confided to me this important business, he seemed
to have forgotten its nature and my apparent concern therein.--He was
lighter than Gossamer.--And valiant too!--talked big and bluff about
honour,--and satisfaction--and could but just be prevailed on by my
intreaties only to write the following pacific answer, in which, were he
not a gentleman, the Earl of Elsings, and my honoured father, you or I
might be bold enough to say--He tells _a falsehood_, _an absolute
falsehood_.
TO GEORGE VALMONT ESQ.
Sir,
The charge you are pleased to make against me reflects infinitely more
disgrace on yourself by its injustice than on me. Such an imputation
deserves nothing but scorn, yet I will answer it so far as to say that
neither my son, nor any person breathing has received from me the
smallest intimation of Miss Valmont's fortune. My son never was in
Valmont castle under any other name than that of Lord Filmar, where his
behaviour kept pace with the dignity of his name, which will never
suffer him to intrude himself or his alliance where it will not be
rather courted than accepted.
I am quite as desirous as you, Sir, can be of dropping the acquaintance;
and till the time you mention I shall (as I have ever done) sacredly
guard my trust--wishing you may do the same, I remain, Sir,
Your humble servant,
ELSINGS
* * * * *
Didst thou never, dear Walter, see two curs pop unexpectedly on one
another within a yard and half of a bone?--Er-er-rar--says one, softly
setting down his lifted fore foot.--Er-er-rar, replies t'other; and each
clapping his cowardly tail between his legs slinks backward a little
way; then ventures to turn round, and scampers off like a hero.--If thou
has wit to find the moral, thou mayst also apply it.--As for me, having
reached the top round of my information, I beg leave to resign you to
your cogitations and am as I am.
FILMAR
_P.S._ She is a girl of spirit! And, on my soul, 'tis infamous she
should be thus treated!--Had the Earl a grain of kindness, he would
rescue her; but no; he asserts he cannot possibly think of interfering.
In two years, she will be of age; and then, if she should demand his
protection, it will be a different matter.--Ah!--but I won't say
what.--You are to know, Boyer, that Griffiths has accidentally met his
dear friend the butler. It was she herself spoke to her uncle of having
seen a stranger; and what she further told him (which the butler does
not know) irritated him to strike her.--Instantly, she rushed from his
presence into the park; but, finding herself pursued, changed her
direction which was toward her favourite wood, and flew to the other
side of the park, where the wall not being very perfect she climbed it
rapidly, and in sight of her pursuers threw herself headlong into the
moat. She was taken up unhurt; and is locked within her own apartments.
Either from disappointment, terror, or real indisposition, she confines
herself to her bed, and preserves a perfect silence whenever Andrew or
her female domestic approaches. Mr. Valmont has not seen her since. The
prevaricating confusion of some of the servants made Mr. Valmont suspect
them of being bribed to admit a stranger; but the butler, being _quite
positive no one living soul more than he knows of_ has been within the
walls, he and others think Miss Valmont has seen the spirit again and is
disordered in her intellects.
I am completely puzzled.--That hermit!--Miss Monckton has seen
Montgomery, and calls him a fine elegant fellow, who makes love to every
pretty woman he meets. If that's his forte, he would scarcely be content
to creep like a snail out of his shell for a few stolen moments at
midnight.--But what has set me to doubt and conjecture is, that
Griffiths has heard of a very handsome man who lodges at a farm hard by,
and wanders about the country night and day. The people say it is a pity
such a sweet gentleman should go mad for love. Yet is it possible any
one should know so well how to enter and escape, but those who had lived
in the secrets of the castle?--Psha!--
In ten hours after you receive this letter, I hope to sup in your new
lodgings.
LETTER VIII
FROM GEORGE VALMONT
TO
CLEMENT MONTGOMERY
What does this mean, Clement Montgomery? Sibella talks of a marriage
with you.--Have you dared, Sir, to form a marriage without my
concurrence? I should dispute the possibility; but I find, from the
avarice and ignorance of the wretches; in my household, people have been
admitted for one purpose, and perhaps others may have been admitted for
another purpose. I command you instantly to tell me how far you have
proceeded, Sir, against the obedience due to
G. VALMONT
LETTER IX
FROM CLEMENT MONTGOMERY
TO
GEORGE VALMONT
Dear Sir,
An attempt would be vain to express my astonishment at the contents of
your last favour, or my concern at your supposing me guilty of so
flagrant a commission of ingratitude to him, who has been my more than
father.
Miss Valmont's mode of expression is strong and vehement. She may call
the early union of our affections a marriage, for _I know of none
other_.--No, Sir; however my wishes might urge me forward, however
painful the struggle might be and was betwixt my love of her and my duty
to you, I sacrificed my hopes in my obedience.
I flatter myself you will rely on this assurance, and consider the
assertions of your lovely niece as romantic as they really are.
My time, Sir, had not probably been spent to as much advantage as it
might have been, but I dare venture to pronounce it not totally thrown
away. It is true, I have not yet attached myself to any particular
profession, although you may expect I should tell you of my progress
therein; but, without a guide or director, I feared rashly to engage
lest I should afterwards discover my abilities unfitted to the part I
had chosen. A general knowledge of the nature and professors of each,
previously gained according to your advice, I deemed might hereafter
save me the time at present expended. Thus have I been employed, Sir;
and thus I plead my excuse for not having written to you sooner.
May I not presume to expect a continuance of your favours whilst I
continue to deserve them?--I beg my dutiful respects to Mrs. Valmont;
and, as _my sister_, I hope I may offer my best wishes to Sibella.
To you, Sir, I shall ever remain the most grateful and respectful of
your servants.
CLEMENT MONTGOMERY
LETTER X
FROM CAROLINE ASHBURN
TO
ARTHUR MURDEN
Yes, rash and inconsiderate young man, I do accept your confidence, your
offered friendship; but remember I cannot profess myself the friend of
any one, to gloss over follies or vices. A friend, not blindly partial,
but active to amend you, is the friend you must at once receive or at
once reject in me.
I have heard myself called pedantic, inflexible, opinionated; I have
been told, by some gentler people, that I am severe, misjudging, giving
to those little foibles almost inseparable from human nature the name of
vice, and this may be true; for you call yourself a foolish man--I call
you vicious.--Nay start not, Murden; but lay your hand on your heart,
and tell me, if you have well employed your time and talents? If you
have done service to human kind, or if you have not in fraud and secresy
bubbled away your happiness? and if it is the part of a virtuous man to
sigh with black misanthropy in solitude a few passive years, and then
lie down in the grave unblessing and unblessed?
Yet I do pity you, for I have neither a hard nor a cold heart, nor a
heart that dare receive a sensation it will not for your example dare to
acknowledge.--Yes, I confess I have loved you! yet, because I could not
possess myself of the strong holds in your heart, shall I sink down and
die?--No! no!--I bade the vague hope begone.--I refused to be the worst
of slaves, the slave of self; and now, my friend, more worthy than ever
of your friendship, I am ready to do any thing in your behalf that
reason can approve.
That service is to gain Sibella for you. Again you retreat.--Your false
delicacy and false refinement fly to guard you with their sevenfold
shield from the attack.--But hear me, Murden:--I would not unite you as
you are to the Sibella Valmont whom you have loved with all the fervour
the most impassioned language can describe, the erring Sibella while she
sees neither spot nor stain in him with whom she has pledged herself in
union:--No! I would first subdue the fermentation of your senses, teach
you to esteem Sibella's worth, pity her errors, and love her with
infinite sincerity, but not so as to absorb your active virtues, to
transform you from a man into a baby.--You are but two beings in the
great brotherhood of mankind, and what right have you to separate your
benevolence from your fellow-creatures and make a world between you,
when you cannot separate your wants also?--You must be dependent for
your blessings on the great mass of mankind, as they in part also depend
on you.--When you can thus love, I would unite you to Sibella, who in
turn shall be roused from the present mistaken zeal of her affections.
Her soul will renounce the union her mistakes have formed, when she
knows Clement as unworthy of her as he really is. From a struggle
perhaps worse than death, she will rise dignified into superior
happiness:--Claim you as her friend, her monitor, her guide; and devote
her life, her love to your virtues!
O yes, I know it well!--your imagination teems with the rhapsodies of
passion!--I hear your high-wrought declamation, the dictates of a
fevered fancy. I do pity you, Murden, from my soul; and if I did not
believe you able to overcome all the misery you deplore I should not
pity you at all.
I can scarcely picture to myself a life more negative, less energetic,
notwithstanding your fervor, than that you would have led with Sibella
had fortune placed you in the situation Clement stood with her. Do not
let your burning brain consume you at the supposition; for, highly
gifted as you both are, mind cannot always feel in that extreme:--the
tight drawn wire must either snap or slacken.--Too happy, banished in
rapture, age would have come upon you without preparation for its
arrival, without proper nourishment for its abode. In vain you then turn
to each other for consolation.--The spell that guarded you from every
intruding care is broken: and you have lessons, wearisome tasks to
learn, which would only have been pleasant relaxations intermixed with
the abounding delights of youth.
You are both at present the victims of erroneous educations, but your
artificial refinements being so admirably checked in their growth, now I
know not two people upon earth so calculated, so fitted for each other
as Murden and Sibella.--My resolution envigorates with the prospect!--Be
ye but what ye may, and the first vaunted pair of paradise were not
more happy! I perceive not only the value of the work I undertake, but
the labour also; nor am I deterred by the firmness wherewith you hold
your resolutions, not by the tedious scarcely perceptible degrees with
which I must sap the foundation of Sibella's error.--Ah, Murden, I
suspect, had she possessed equal advantages with yourself, she would
have soared far beyond what you are as yet!
By her last letter, I find she discovers a deficiency in Clement's
conduct which she struggles to hide from her own penetration.--He is my
best auxiliary. I once thought him only a negative character, drawn this
way or that by a thread. Now, I see he has an incessant restlessness
after pomp and pleasure which nothing can subdue, and to which every
thing must yield: Sibella in her turn--indeed, half her hold at least is
gone already.--If he speaks of her now to me, she is not as before--his
adored--an angel--superior to every thing in heaven or on earth--but one
lady has an eye almost as intelligent as Sibella's--another, a bloom of
complexion scarcely less exquisite--and a third, in form in graces moves
a counterpart goddess!----As you say, there is a vehemency and energy in
his expressions, that, in the general apprehension, cloathe him with
attributes which never did and never can belong to him. It is but very
rarely that I partake of his effusions, for I am not to his taste. My
mother is his confidante; and she is quite fascinated with the
descriptions of his love. When he was first introduced to us, I thought
it necessary, for a reason you perhaps divine, to mention the mutual
attachment subsisting between Clement and Sibella.--Mrs. Ashburn
declared she would take his constancy under her protection: yes, she
would guard him from folly and temptation.
Alas, Murden, I am sick of the scenes that surround me! formerly, we
were moderate and retired to what we are now. Our house is the palace of
luxury. Every varying effort of novelty is exerted to fill the vacant
mind with pleasure. Useless are my remonstrances. Eastern magnificence
and eastern voluptuousness here hold their court, and my mother,
borrowing from her splendor every other pretension to charm, plunges
deeper and deeper in the vortex of vanity. Fain would I leave it all,
but I dare not proscribe my little power of doing good.----Come then, my
friends, you who have already taken your station in my heart!--Murden
and Sibella--live for each other--live that I may sometimes quit the
drudgery of dissipation to participate of happiness with you!
If it really was Mr. Valmont's design (which I very much doubt) to give
Clement up to a profession, nothing could be more unfortunate than his
introduction here--where, with his natural inclination to do the same,
he sees wealth lavished without check or restraint. So highly does he
stand in my mother's opinion for taste, and so animated are his bursts
of applause, that no overstrained variety is received or rejected
without his sanction.--To be the confidante of a heart is a novelty with
Mrs. Ashburn, who has had little concern in affairs of the heart; and
perhaps to preserve him from sacrificing in her presence to the vanity
of others may be her motive for encouraging him to speak of his passion
for Sibella.--I have watched him narrowly; and, if he has any lurking
wishes here, I am persuaded they fix on Mademoiselle Laundy.
I believe you never saw this companion of Mrs. Ashburn. She, or I
greatly mistake, has of all persons I know most command over herself.
I had almost forgotten to tell you that Clement read me a few concluding
lines of your last letter to him. What a decided melancholy have you
displayed therein!--No, my dear friend, you must not, shall not
die.--Clement was considerably affected by the representation of your
feelings; yet he said you had used him ill in the foregoing part, and he
believed he should never write to you again.--I find he has no
suspicions of you; and I leave you to tell him at your own time, and in
your own way.
Still I say nothing of Sibella's present distress, you cry. I have had
no information of it, except from yourself. I have written again to
Sibella, and look for an answer daily with respect to her fortune, I
think it probable that she should be her father's heir; but of that we
can judge better when we hear what her uncle says to the charge. Alas, I
know Mr. Valmont is vindictive, proud, and impatient of
contradiction.--She resolute, daring to do aught she dare approve.--He
might strike her.--As to suicide, I know her better: it would be as
remote from her thoughts, under any suffering, as light from darkness.
Oh, Murden, she is indeed a glorious girl! Mr. Valmont promised me an
unrestrained correspondence with Sibella; and, while he is satisfied in
the exercise of his own power over her person, he will as usual suffer
her to communicate to me the crowd of welcome and unwelcome strangers
passing to and fro in her mind.
I need scarcely assure you that, whatever intelligence I receive, you
shall share the communication.--Remain at Barlowe Hall; for, though your
uncle is very desirous that you should come to London, I am certain, in
your present frame of mind, you would find yourself still more removed
from ease in the society which Sir Thomas would provide for you than in
solitude.--I should be sorry to depend for my happiness on that heart
which could invite pleasure and gaiety to quell those griefs it could
not banish by reason and reflection. Nor have I, Murden, so supreme an
idea of your prudence, as not to foresee the birth of a new folly,
should Montgomery and you meet each other.
Farewel! and may the blessing you bestowed on me rest also with
yourself.
CAROLINE ASHBURN
LETTER XI
FROM LORD FILMAR
TO
JANETTA LAUNDY
In apartments opposite to Sir Walter Boyer's, there lives an Adonis.--A
Paris, rather, to whose wishes Venus sends a beauteous Helen. Janetta,
thou understandest me.--A chair--Twilight----. As tradition tells us
that the famed city was burned, and the famed family is I suppose
extinct, I want to know from what Troy this Paris came, and what Priam
was his father.
Thine, whilst I had love and money,
FILMAR
LETTER XII
ANSWER
My Lord,
Janetta does not understand you, and yet in another sense she
understands you but too well. Once I thought you all tenderness, and
generosity, but now you can both neglect and insult one whose love of
you was her undoing. I neither know Sir Walter Boyer, nor any one who
lives opposite to him, nor can in the least imagine what you would
insinuate by twilight and a chair. If your recollection of former
fondness does not incline you to treat me with more respect, at least
her sad change of situation might preserve from your contempt, the
unfortunate
JANETTA LAUNDY
LETTER XIII
FROM LORD FILMAR
TO
JANETTA LAUNDY
Undone! no charmer! Carry that face to the looking-glass, and ask if any
thing but age or small-pox could undo thee! If thy mirror does not say
enough to thy satisfaction, consult Montgomery.--Ha! have I caught thee?
It was no stroke of Machiavelian policy amidst all thy profundity of
practice, that the lodging opposite Sir Walter Boyer's should be so
suddenly vacated.
But child, I do hold all my former fondness in my mind's eye; and thou
art very ungrateful to refuse one little favour to him who has bestowed
on thee so many. Can I more evince my respect of thy situation than by
refraining to interrupt its harmony by my presence? What but respect,
thinkest thou, made me order the horses back to the stable, when I had
them ready harnessed to come and throw myself at thy feet for the little
boon of information thou hast refused my letter.
I applaud Helen's taste. The Paris of old was a Jew pedlar to the
present Paris of ---- street. Grace was in all her steps. Need I ask
information of my eyes when my throbbing heart could tell me?--Oh yes, I
should know my Helen's mien from a thousand.
I tell you, his name's Montgomery. Now you must tell me, if 'tis
Montgomery of Valmont castle. If it is, you are directly to introduce me
to him.--Remember, Janetta, in this I am serious;--remember also I
am--_an old acquaintance_--now I hope you understand me.
FILMAR
LETTER XIV
FROM JANETTA LAUNDY
TO
LORD FILMAR
My Lord,
I did suppose, on the receipt of your first letter, that you alluded to
my calling one evening on Mr. Montgomery; and had I not been withheld by
the unwillingness I felt to disclose the secrets of another person I
should certainly then have acknowledged that I paid a visit to Mr.
Montgomery. But, my Lord, you compel me notwithstanding my extreme
reluctance to make this confession; at the same time I must, to prevent
your surmises injurious to myself, own to you that I called on Mr.
Montgomery the evening you named by the order of Mrs. Ashburn whose very
particular friend he is. The commission, my Lord, respected some
business of a private nature; therefore you will perceive how necessary
it is that you should keep secret your knowledge of this transaction.
There is scarce any thing which Mrs. Ashburn would not sooner pardon in
me than this breach of confidence.
With respect to my introducing you, my Lord, to Mr. Montgomery, a
moment's consideration will convince you of its impropriety. In the
unhappy and dependent situation which the misfortunes heaped upon my
family have compelled me to seek, it is not the least of its afflicting
circumstances that I am obliged to shape all my actions to the will or
opinions of those by whom I am surrounded. That I should so suddenly
claim an intimacy with a person of Lord Filmar's youth, graces, and
accomplishments might appear suspicious to Mrs. Ashburn; beside, my
Lord, how do you suppose I am to conduct myself in your presence? for,
although you may have forgotten the time when you could not approach me
without trembling, I can neither cease to remember nor cease to feel.
It is not possible for me to divine why you should insist so vehemently
on my bringing you acquainted with Mr. Montgomery; nor is it easy to
decline any request however hazardous the grant, when it is urged by one
who has such claims, although now neglected, as you have, my Lord, on
me. I have studied in what way, with any probability of safety to
myself, I can gratify your wish; and find no other than your renewing
your acquaintance with the Dutchess de N----, who is also at this time
in London. Mr. Montgomery visits there frequently.
I think, my Lord, I need hardly remind you of the caution you ought to
use, if by any accident it appears that we are acquainted. Mr.
Montgomery was in Paris a short time after you left it. He was, like
you, intimate with my father; but he did not, gain the devoted heart of
the daughter. To wound my reputation now would be barbarity. Were you by
any hint or jest to create a surmise in the breast of Mr. Montgomery, it
would instantly be conveyed by him to Mrs. Ashburn; and my ruin would be
certain. I intreat you will think of this with attention; and you would
be well convinced of the attention it demands, could you know how
scrupulously observant Mrs. Ashburn is of my conduct.
JANETTA LAUNDY
LETTER XV
FROM LORD FILMAR
TO
JANETTA LAUNDY
Female friendship still so constant! What, if French folks did surmise
and say strange things of Janetta Laundy and the Duke de N----, the
Dutchess well understands the value of a certain old proverb, _Keep my
secret and I'll keep your's._ Amiable pair! Fear me not, Janetta. Filmar
will not breathe a whisper that shall disturb thy peace; for he
perfectly understands that Montgomery was in Paris after him.
Last night I supped with the Dutchess; Montgomery was there.
No wonder Mrs. Ashburn is _observant of your conduct_, Janetta; for she
glared upon us last night in the fullness of her blaze, and I perceived
in half an hour or less that she is tremblingly alive to every species
of decorum. Whenever this _scrupulous_ lady again chooses to _send_ her
pretty ambassadress on _private business_ to _Montgomery_, he will still
I doubt not continue to receive her with all the respect due to her
_commission_.
Do not be angry, Janetta, but encourage the dimpling smile that so well
becomes you. Montgomery dines with me; and I am, with him, to have the
felicity of basking in the sunshine of bright eyes at Mrs. Ashburn's
route this evening.
FILMAR
LETTER XVI
FROM CAROLINE ASHBURN
TO
ARTHUR MURDEN