“I know, sir, you are prejudiced against me,” said Prince Florestan,
bowing before Mr. Wilton with a sort of haughty humility, “and therefore
I the more appreciate your condescension in receiving me.”
“I have no wish to refer to the past,” said Mr. Wilton somewhat sternly.
“You mentioned in your letter that my co-operation was necessary with
reference to your private affairs, of which I once was a trustee, and
under those circumstances I felt it my duty to accede to your request. I
wish our communication to be limited to that business.”
“It shall be so strictly,” said the prince; “you may remember, sir, that
at the unhappy period when we were deprived of our throne, the name
of Queen Agrippina was inscribed on the great book of the state for a
considerable sum, for which the credit of the state was pledged to her.
It was strictly her private property, and had mainly accrued through
the sale of the estates of her ancestors. This sum was confiscated, and
several other amounts, which belonged to members of our house and to our
friends. It was an act of pure rapine, so gross, that as time revolved,
and the sense of justice gradually returned to the hearts of men,
restitution was made in every instance except my own, though I have
reason to believe that individual claim was the strongest. My bankers,
the house of Neuchatel, who have much interested themselves in this
matter, and have considerable influence with the government that
succeeded us, have brought things to this pass, that we have reason to
believe our claim would be conceded, if some of the foreign governments,
and especially the government of this country, would signify that the
settlement would not be disagreeable to them.” And the prince ceased,
and raising his eyes, which were downcast as he spoke, looked Mr. Wilton
straight in the face.
“Before such a proposal could even be considered by Her Majesty’s
Government,” said Mr. Wilton with a reddening cheek, “the intimation
must be made to them by authority. If the minister of your country has
such an intimation to make to ours, he should address himself to the
proper quarter, to Lord Roehampton.”
“I understand,” said Prince Florestan; “but governments, like
individuals, sometimes shrink from formality. The government of my
country will act on the intimation, but they do not care to make it an
affair of despatches.”
“There is only one way of transacting business,” said Mr. Wilton
frigidly, and as if, so far as he was concerned, the interview was
ended.
“I have been advised on high authority,” said Prince Florestan, speaking
very slowly, “that if any member of the present cabinet will mention in
conversation to the representative of my country here, that the act of
justice would not be disagreeable to the British Government, the affair
is finished.”
“I doubt whether any one of my colleagues would be prepared to undertake
a personal interference of that kind with a foreign government,” said
Mr. Wilton stiffly. “For my own part, I have had quite enough of such
interpositions never to venture on them again.”
“The expression of feeling desired would involve no sort of engagement,”
said the imperturbable prince.
“That depends on the conscience of the individual who interferes. No
man of honour would be justified in so interposing if he believed he was
thus furnishing arms against the very government of which he solicited
the favour.”
“But why should he believe this?” asked the prince with great calmness.
“I think upon reflection,” said Mr. Wilton, taking up at the same time
an opened letter which was before him, as if he wished to resume the
private business on which he had been previously engaged, “that your
royal highness might find very adequate reasons for the belief.”
“I would put this before you with great deference, sir,” said the
prince. “Take my own case; is it not more likely that I should lead that
life of refined retirement, which I really desire, were I in possession
of the means to maintain such a position with becoming dignity, than if
I were distressed, and harassed, and disgusted, every day, with sights
and incidents which alike outrage my taste and self-respect? It is not
prosperity, according to common belief, that makes conspirators.”
“You _were_ in a position, and a refined position,” rejoined Mr. Wilton
sharply; “you had means adequate to all that a gentleman could desire,
and might have been a person of great consideration, and you wantonly
destroyed all this.”
“It might be remembered that I was young.”
“Yes, you were young, very young, and your folly was condoned. You
might have begun life again, for to the world at least you were a man of
honour. You had not deceived the world, whatever you might have done to
others.”
“If I presume to make another remark,” said the prince calmly, but pale,
“it is only, believe me, sir, from the profound respect I feel for you.
Do not misunderstand these feelings, sir. They are not unbecoming the
past. Now that my mother has departed, there is no one to whom I am
attached except yourself. I have no feeling whatever towards any other
human being. All my thought and all my sentiment are engrossed by my
country. But pardon me, dear sir, for so let me call you, if I venture
to say that, in your decision on my conduct, you have never taken into
consideration the position which I inherited.”
“I do not follow you, sir.”
“You never will remember that I am the child of destiny,” said Prince
Florestan. “That destiny will again place me on the throne of my
fathers. That is as certain as I am now speaking to you. But destiny for
its fulfilment ordains action. Its decrees are inexorable, but they are
obscure, and the being whose career it directs is as a man travelling
in a dark night; he reaches his goal even without the aid of stars or
moon.”
“I really do not understand what destiny means,” said Mr. Wilton.
“I understand what conduct means, and I recognise that it should be
regulated by truth and honour. I think a man had better have nothing to
do with destiny, particularly if it is to make him forfeit his parole.”
“Ah! sir, I well know that on that head you entertain a great prejudice
in my respect. Believe me it is not just. Even lawyers acknowledge
that a contract which is impossible cannot be violated. My return from
America was inevitable. The aspirations of a great people and of many
communities required my presence in Europe. My return was the natural
development of the inevitable principle of historical necessity.”
“Well, that principle is not recognised by Her Majesty’s Ministers,”
said Mr. Wilton, and both himself and the prince seemed to rise at the
same time.
“I thank you, sir, for this interview,” said his royal highness. “You
will not help me, but what I require will happen by some other means. It
is necessary, and therefore it will occur.”
The prince remounted his horse, and rode off quickly till he reached
the Strand, where obstacles to rapid progress commenced, and though
impatient, it was some time before he reached Bishopsgate Street. He
entered the spacious courtyard of a noble mansion, and, giving his
horse to the groom, inquired for Mr. Neuchatel, to whom he was at
once ushered,--seated in a fine apartment at a table covered with many
papers.
“Well, my prince,” said Mr. Neuchatel with a smiling eye, “what brings
such a great man into the City to-day? Have you seen your great friend?”
And then Prince Florestan gave Mr. Neuchatel a succinct but sufficient
summary of his recent interview.
“Ah!” said Mr. Neuchatel, “so it is, so it is; I dare say if you
were received at St. James’, Mr. Sidney Wilton would not be so very
particular; but we must take things as we find them. If our fine friends
will not help us, you must try us poor business men in the City. We can
manage things here sometimes which puzzle them at the West End. I saw
you were disturbed when you came in. Put on a good countenance. Nobody
should ever look anxious except those who have no anxiety. I dare say
you would like to know how your account is. I will send for it. It is
not so bad as you think. I put a thousand pounds to it in the hope that
your fine friend would help us, but I shall not take it off again. My
Louis is going to-night to Paris, and he shall call upon the ministers
and see what can be done. In the meantime, good appetite, sir. I am
going to luncheon, and there is a place for you. And I will show you
my Gainsborough that I have just bought, from a family for whom it was
painted. The face is divine, very like our Miss Ferrars. I am going to
send the picture down to Hainault. I won’t tell you what I gave for it,
because perhaps you would tell my wife and she would be very angry. She
would want the money for an infant school. But I think she has schools
enough. Now to lunch.”
On the afternoon of this day there was a half-holiday at the office, and
Endymion had engaged to accompany Waldershare on some expedition. They
had been talking together in his room where Waldershare was finishing
his careless toilette, which however was never finished, and they had
just opened the house door and were sallying forth when Colonel Albert
rode up. He gave a kind nod to Endymion, but did not speak, and the
companions went on. “By the by, Ferrars,” said Waldershare, pressing his
arm and bubbling with excitement, “I have found out who your colonel is.
It is a wondrous tale, and I will tell it all to you as we go on.”