Colonel Albert from this day became an object of increased and deeper
interest to Myra. His appearance and manners had always been attractive,
and the mystery connected with him was not calculated to diminish
curiosity in his conduct or fate. But when she discovered that he was
the unseen hero of her childhood, the being who had been kind to her
Endymion in what she had ever considered the severest trial of her
brother’s life, had been his protector from those who would have
oppressed him, and had cherished him in the desolate hour of his
delicate and tender boyhood, her heart was disturbed. How often had they
talked together of the Count of Otranto, and how often had they wondered
who he was! His memory had been a delightful mystery to them in their
Berkshire solitude, and Myra recalled with a secret smile the numberless
and ingenious inquiries by which she had endeavoured to elicit from her
brother some clue as to his friend, or to discover some detail which
might guide her to a conclusion. Endymion had known nothing, and was
clear always that the Count of Otranto must have been, and was, an
English boy. And now the Count of Otranto called himself Colonel Albert,
and though he persisted in speaking English, had admitted to Mrs.
Neuchatel that he was a foreigner.
Who was he? She resolved, when she had an opportunity, to speak to the
great banker on the subject.
“Do you know, Mr. Neuchatel,” she said, “that Endymion, my brother, was
at school with Colonel Albert?”
“Ah, ah!” said Mr. Neuchatel.
“But when he was at school he had another name,” said Myra.
“Oh, oh!” said Mr. Neuchatel.
“He was then called the Count of Otranto.”
“That is a very pretty name,” said Mr. Neuchatel.
“But why did he change it?” asked Myra.
“The great world often change their names,” said Mr. Neuchatel. “It is
only poor City men like myself who are always called Mr., and bear the
same name as their fathers.”
“But when a person is called a count when he is a boy, he is seldom
called only a colonel when he is a man,” said Myra. “There is a great
mystery in all this.”
“I should not be surprised,” said Mr. Neuchatel, “if he were to change
his name again before this time year.”
“Why?” asked Myra.
“Well, when I have read all his papers in Bishopsgate Street, perhaps I
shall be able to tell you,” said Mr. Neuchatel, and Myra felt that she
could pursue the theme no further.
She expected that Endymion would in time be able to obtain this
information, but it was not so. In their first private conversation
after their meeting in the forest, Endymion had informed Colonel Albert
that, though they had met now for the first time since his return, they
had been for some time lodgers in London under the same roof. Colonel
Albert smiled when Endymion told him this; then falling into thought,
he said; “I hope we may often meet, but for the moment it may be as well
that the past should be known only to ourselves. I wish my life for the
present to be as private as I can arrange it. There is no reason why we
should not be sometimes together--that is, when you have leisure. I had
the pleasure of making your acquaintance at my banker’s.”
Parliament had been dissolved through the demise of the crown in the
summer of this year (1837), and London society had been prematurely
broken up. Waldershare had left town early in July to secure his
election, in which he was successful, with no intention of settling
again in his old haunts till the meeting of the new House of Commons,
which was to be in November. The Rodneys were away at some Kentish
watering-place during August and September, exhibiting to an admiring
world their exquisitely made dresses, and enjoying themselves amazingly
at balls and assemblies at the public rooms. The resources of private
society also were not closed to them. Mr. and Mrs. Gamme were also there
and gave immense dinners, and the airy Mrs. Hooghley, who laughed a
little at the Gammes’ substantial gatherings and herself improvised
charming pic-nics. So there was really little embarrassment in the
social relations between Colonel Albert and Endymion. They resolved
themselves chiefly into arranging joint expeditions to Hainault.
Endymion had a perpetual invitation there, and it seemed that the
transactions between Mr. Neuchatel and the colonel required much
conference, for the banker always expected him, although it was well
known that they met not unfrequently in Bishopsgate Street in the course
of the week. Colonel Albert and Endymion always stayed at Hainault from
Saturday till Monday. It delighted the colonel to mount Endymion on one
of his choice steeds, and his former fag enjoyed all this amazingly.
Colonel Albert became domiciled at Hainault. The rooms which were
occupied by him when there were always reserved for him. He had a
general invitation, and might leave his luggage and books and papers
behind him. It was evident that the family pleased him. Between Mr.
Neuchatel and himself there were obviously affairs of great interest;
but it was equally clear that he liked the female members of the
family--all of them; and all liked him. And yet it cannot be said that
he was entertaining, but there are some silent people who are more
interesting than the best talkers. And when he did speak he always
said the right thing. His manners were tender and gentle; he had an
unobtrusive sympathy with all they said or did, except, indeed, and that
was not rarely, when he was lost in profound abstraction.
“I delight in your friend the colonel, Adrian,” said Mrs. Neuchatel,
“but I must say he is very absent.”
“He has a good deal to think about,” said Mr. Neuchatel.
“I wonder what it can be,” thought Myra.
“He has a claim to a great estate,” said Mr. Neuchatel, “and he has to
think of the best mode of establishing it; and he has been deprived of
great honours, and he believes unjustly, and he wishes to regain them.”
“No wonder, then, he is absent,” said Mrs. Neuchatel. “If he only knew
what a burthen great wealth is, I am sure he would not wish to possess
it, and as for honours I never could make out why having a title or a
ribbon could make any difference in a human being.”
“Nonsense, my dear Emily,” said Mr. Neuchatel. “Great wealth is a
blessing to a man who knows what to do with it, and as for honours, they
are inestimable to the honourable.”
“Well, I ardently hope Colonel Albert may succeed,” said Myra, “because
he was so kind to my brother at Eton. He must have a good heart.”
“They say he is the most unscrupulous of living men,” said Mr.
Neuchatel, with his peculiar smile.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Mrs. Neuchatel.
“How terrible!” said Adriana. “It cannot be true.”
“Perhaps he is the most determined,” said Myra. “Moral courage is the
rarest of qualities, and often maligned.”
“Well, he has got a champion,” said Mr. Neuchatel.
“I ardently wish him success,” said Myra, “in all his undertakings. I
only wish I knew what they were.”
“Has not he told your brother, Miss Ferrars?” asked Mr. Neuchatel, with
laughing eyes.
“He never speaks of himself to Endymion,” said Myra.
“He speaks a good deal of himself to me,” said Mr. Neuchatel; “and he is
going to bring a friend here to-morrow who knows more about his affairs
even than I do. So you will have a very good opportunity, Miss Ferrars,
of making yourself acquainted with them, particularly if you sit next to
him at dinner, and are very winning.”
The friend of Colonel Albert was Baron Sergius, the baron who used to
visit him in London at twilight in a dark brougham. Mrs. Neuchatel
was greatly taken by his appearance, by the calmness of his mien, his
unstudied politeness, and his measured voice. He conversed with her
entirely at dinner on German philosophy, of which he seemed a complete
master, explained to her the different schools, and probably the
successful ones, and imparted to her that precise knowledge which she
required on the subject, and which she had otherwise been unable
to obtain. It seemed, too, that he personally knew all the famous
professors, and he intimated their doctrines not only with profound
criticism, but described their persons and habits with vividness and
picturesque power, never, however, all this time, by any chance raising
his voice, the tones of which were ever distinct and a little precise.
“Is this the first visit of your friend to this country?” asked Myra of
Colonel Albert.
“Oh no; he has been here often--and everywhere,” added Colonel Albert.
“Everywhere! he must be a most interesting companion then.”
“I find him so: I never knew any one whom I thought equal to him. But
perhaps I am not an impartial judge, for I have known him so long and
so intimately. In fact, I had never been out of his sight till I was
brought over to this country to be placed at Eton. He is the counsellor
of our family, and we all of us have ever agreed that if his advice had
been always followed we should never have had a calamity.”
“Indeed, a gifted person! Is he a soldier?”
“No; Baron Sergius has not followed the profession of arms.”
“He looks a diplomatist.”
“Well, he is now nothing but my friend,” said the colonel. “He might
have been anything, but he is a peculiarly domestic character, and is
devoted to private life.”
“You are fortunate in such a friend.”
“Well, I am glad to be fortunate in something,” said Colonel Albert.
“And are you not fortunate in everything?”
“I have not that reputation; but I shall be more than fortunate if I
have your kind wishes.”
“Those you have,” said Myra, rather eagerly. “My brother taught me, even
as a child, to wish nothing but good for you. I wish I knew only what I
was to wish for.”
“Wish that my plans may succeed,” said Colonel Albert, looking round to
her with interest.
“I will more than wish,” said Myra; “I will believe that they will
succeed, because I think you have resolved to succeed.”
“I shall tell Endymion when I see him,” said Colonel Albert, “that his
sister is the only person who has read my character.”