_Col. Lamb_. Hold, sir! not so fast; you can’t pass.
_Dr. Cant._ Who, sir, shall dare to stop me?
_Col. Lamb._ Within there! [Enter Tipstaff.
_Tipstaff_. Is your name Cantwell, sir?
_Dr. Cant_. What if it be, sir?
_Tipstaff_. Then, sir, I have my lord chief justice’s warrant against
you.
_Dr. Cant._ Against me?
_Tipstaff_. Yes, sir, for a cheat and impostor.
--Bickekstaff.
To-morrow brought with it to Lester Vane a long _tête-à-tête_ with Mr.
Wilton. Neither Flora nor Mark were visible to him, and Mr. Charlock had
gone to London.
During this interview he learned, to his dismay, the whole of Colonel
Mires’ proceedings, as Mark had that morning at his request detailed to
his father all that had occurred in reference to the abduction of Flora.
He learned the particulars of Chewkle’s murderous attempt, and that,
in both cases, Harry Vivian had been the hero who had saved father and
daughter.
It was information of a startling and a grave kind to him. He was quite
enough master of woman’s character to comprehend how securely such acts
would establish Vivian in Flora’s heart, and of human nature to know
that if Wilton’s stumbling-block--pride--could be removed, he would, in
all other respects, delight in Vivian as a son-in-law.
For, although angry and irritated with him for what he considered the
presumption of aspiring to his daughter’s hand, yet Wilton never failed
to speak of him in all respects as in a high degree worthy his regard
and esteem. Lester Vane, therefore, saw that Vivian was his great
obstruction, and that he must be cleared from his path before he could
himself make the least advance.
He determined, upon reflection, to speak in high terms of him to Wilton,
especially to Mark or Flora if he had the chance, and to congratulate
Hal himself if he happened to meet with him, though it cost him an
apology for his former insolence. He resolved, and wisely, to be
governed in all he did by the form circumstances might take, and,
without attempting to control them, to guide them into the direction he
wished them to pursue. Above all, with grating teeth, he resolved to
be effectually rid of his rival; not by the vulgar means of knife or
poison--there were other ways of destroying him than that. He hoped to
slay his moral character, and that he decided should be his first move
when the right moment came to set it in motion.
Old Wilton had to attend at the Town Hall of a neighbouring borough
to appear against Mr. Chewkle, and to give his evidence before the
magistrates respecting the murderous attack he had made upon him.
He was aware that he should have to meet there Mr. Henry Vivian. To
expatiate upon his timely interposition in his favour, to laud him for
his pursuit of Colonel Mires, and the rescue of his daughter. He felt as
he meditated on this that he ought to be grateful to him, and to display
it; but then the exhibition of a generous warmth on his part might raise
hopes he was most anxious to repress. So he was bewildered as to the
part he ought to play.
Then, too, he was feverish and petulant; he missed Lotte’s gentle
attentions.
Ah! in truth he sorely missed her.
From the moment she had quitted him nothing seemed to have gone right.
He missed her every-ready offices, always performed so exactly as he
wished them to be; he missed her soft voice, which had such power to
soothe and allay his peevish fretfulness; and he missed her gentle
smile, which had never failed to gladden his heart, and dispose it to a
generous sympathy with the world and all whom it contained.
Never since her absence had he missed her so much as on the morning he
had to face the fatigue of giving his evidence on the examination of
Chewkle. He was so sure he should have been prepared to undergo the
exertion by her admirable arrangements, and he was so convinced that she
would, by her presence, have sustained him throughout his meeting with
Vivian. But he had to do it all without her; for very obvious reasons
he declined Flora’s offer to accompany him. He felt assured there was no
advantage to be derived from giving her the opportunity of seeing young
Vivian, if she did not speak to him--she had, in fact, seen him too
often as it was.
So, accompanied by his son Mark and Lester Vane, he went to the Town
Hall.
But ere he departed from his library he formed a design respecting
Lotte--one he purposed keeping to himself until he could put it into
execution.
He made a firm resolve to be no more placed in the predicament in which
he felt himself to be that morning.
And so he reached the Town Hall, which was thronged with curious
spectators. The attempt on Wilton’s life had been noised all over the
county, and the gentry and farmers for miles round came to hear the
examination.
They came to see, too, Mr. Wilton. His history was well known, as
well as his understood successful claim to the Eglinton estates. Great
curiosity was evinced to see the rich landed proprietor who had lived
for years little better than a beggar in London.
Three was a somewhat anxious desire on the part of the fair sex, too,
to have a peep at the young gentleman who had saved Mr. Wilton’s life.
Report had declared him to be the very handsomest of fine young fellows;
that Miss Wilton had fallen passionately in love with him, and was to
be married to him in a month; that she had selected her _trousseau_, and
was looking up her bridesmaids.
There was a very general morbid curiosity also to gaze on Mr. Chewkle.
Mr. Chewkle, whose race was run--Mr. Chewkle, who had possessed such
faith in having the luck which was “all.” He possessed it no more: it
had deserted him now. He knew it, and looked into the future with a
vacant stare and blank despair.
When first made prisoner and incarcerated, he forwarded a letter to Mr.
Grahame, in which he briefly stated that events had proved untoward, and
called upon him to hasten to release him by some means from his dilemma.
No answer was returned to his epistle.
He wrote again, intimating that, unless his employer made his
appearance, revelations would be made.
Still no answer. Chewkle was devoured with sickening anxiety, and
dropped a line to his passionately attached friend Jukes, asking him to
call upon Mr. Grahame, and wake him up. He gave him a few hints to
use which would be likely to terrify the proud man, as coming from a
stranger, and he signed himself “Old Chewk.” But Jukes was a rat who
skulked from a sinking ship, so he burned the letter, and swore to
himself that he had never received it.
Chewkle grew desperate at being thus deserted, and he gave Mr. Grahame,
as he said, “one more chance;” in another and last epistle, he spoke out
very plainly. He alluded to incitement to murder, of the forgery they
had together committed, and he ended by informing Mr. Grahame that if he
did not proceed instanter to “do the thing that was right,” he should
make a clean breast of all. “And if I am lagged for life,” he said, “you
shall go with me, even if we should be in the same gang, and chained
together up to our buzzums in water, until one of us turns up his toes.”
This more expressive than elegant epistle met with no better fate than
the others.
Mr. Grahame was then where no missive or threat of Mr. Chewkle could
reach him. Mr. Chewkle hoped against hope until the last moment; then he
determined to give up Mr. Grahame’s name, and request of the authorities
that that gentleman might be taken into custody. He did so on the
morning of the examination, and was then informed that Mr. Grahame was
dead, and also that the contents of his notes had been carefully perused
before they had quitted the prison-doors.
Chewkle listened to this announcement with a spasm of agony. His future
was before him--penal servitude for life, without a hope of escape.
So, when he appeared at the dock with haggard face, bloodshot eyes,
shaggy brows, and stubbly beard, people in court shrunk back, and
believed him quite capable of the crime with which he was charged.
The examination extended to no great length. Mr. Wilton, who acted the
patrician with consummate art, gave his evidence in a somewhat
stately and rambling manner; but Vivian, whose looks realised all the
expectations of the fair owners of the many bright eyes turned upon him,
recounted his share in the transaction with a clear conciseness and a
modesty which elicited encomium from the counsel for the prosecution,
and a compliment from the magistrates. Other evidence was produced; and
Mr. Chewkle--who, under the advice of his solicitor, said nothing, and
nothing exculpatory had he to say--was fully committed for trial at the
next assizes, which, however, were not due for some two or three months
to come. Mr. Chewkle was, therefore, consigned to gaol to await that
period; and Mr. Wilton, attended by his son and Lester Vane, returned
back to Harleydale Hall.
They did not encounter Mr. Vivian. He was nowhere to be seen--though
Mark had looked for him, and Lester Vane too--until he was called upon
to give his evidence, then he suddenly rose up in the vicinity of the
witness-box, as if by magic, performed the duty required of him, and
retired, to be no more visible to the eyes which searched for him that
day.
All the way from Harleydale to the Town Hall, Mr. Wilton had been
mentally occupied by him. He considered himself slighted--he,
so wealthy, holding now such a position--he should be at least
deputy-lieutenant for his county before long--and for this Vivian, this
boy, not to appear before him and express---well, Mr. Wilton could not
define what sentiments Hal ought to have delivered himself of; he rested
with feelings irritated and annoyed at his absence.
He let his feelings at last betray themselves. Mark looked at him with
surprise.
“What, sir!” he said, curtly, “did you expect Mr. Vivian to hunt you out
to present himself to you, hat in hand, and thank you for the honour
of having been permitted to save your life, and Flora from worse than
death.”’
“Ahem! Mark, you presume!” rejoined his father, fiercely.
Mark made no reply; and the rest of the journey home was made in
silence.
Flora, sure that she should hear all that had transpired from Mark, kept
her room on the plea of indisposition--a just one; for she, too, was
feverish, excited, and certainly indisposed to meet Lester Vane, and to
bevexed by his incessant stare and his unpleasing attention.
Old Wilton, on reaching Harleydale, again missed the face of his little
pet-nurse. His house seemed a desert without her. His room seemed gloomy
without the sunshine of her eyes or the music of her voice. He said
nothing, but he speculated upon her condition.
“She is a young lady in reduced circumstances,” he thought. “I will make
this a home for her. Flora will be married and away from me. Mark, among
the splendid beauties of an elevated circle, will soon forget the artful
sempstress who inveigled herself into his affections--he does not speak
of her now, a good sign. He will marry, and have an establishment of
his own. Then, then, I will place my little pet to preside over my
household; I shall have all my wishes consulted, and all my requirements
attended to. I will make an excuse to go to London. Flora knows her
address, and I will go to her, and make short work of it. I am weary of
this loneliness.”
He, however, wanted not an excuse to go to London. He was electrified by
receiving a letter from his solicitor, who informed him that he had
been served with a notice from a new claimant to the estates of the late
Eglinton, and who was at once about to prosecute his claim, He advanced
his title as a lineal descendant from an elder branch of the family,
and, upon referring to the genealogical tree, the solicitor said he
feared his claim was only too well founded. He, however, begged Mr.
Wilton to come to London at once, and confer with him upon the course to
be adopted in this singular and unexpected turn of affairs.
Wilton read and re-read this letter a dozen times. What! was the cup of
grandeur to be dashed from his mouth while yet sparkling and bubbling on
his lips. New claimant of an elder branch of the family! the very notion
made him perspire; for he had at once a dim remembrance that Nathan
Gomer had mentioned that fact, but had suggested that the descent was
broken, or had disappeared, he could not now recollect, beyond that his
singular little friend had assured him there was no occasion to fear any
interposition from that quarter.
Yet here it was.
Upon an impulse, he swallowed humble pie, and wrote off to Nathan Gomer,
asking him to come down at once to Harleydale, for he much needed the
services of his well-tried and proved friend once more.
His letter was returned to him unopened.
What did this mean?
Who, after all, could Nathan Gomer be?
Another letter arrived from his solicitor, more urgent than before,
calling for his immediate presence in London, and he had no alternative
but to comply with its appeal.
He conferred with Mark, adopting a different manner and language
towards him to that which he had lately used, and his son announced his
intention to accompany him to London; as Flora could not well be left
behind, it was decided that she should go with them too.
Mr. Wilton was, perforce, obliged to inform Lester Vane of the change
in their arrangements; but he was warmly requested to make the house in
Regent’s Park his own, as it were, while they remained in town.
The change did not suit Vane; he had several private reasons which
rendered a return to London especially inconvenient; but he could only
submit to the alteration, and offer to journey with them to the great
metropolis, which offer Mr. Wilton accepted readily---it was one which
was not a little distasteful to Flora.
Once again their dwelling, adjoining Grahame’s, was tenanted by them,
and, with no small pleasure, by two of the family. By Flora, because
coming to London was to be where Hal dwelt--to breathe the same
atmosphere with him--to be within reach any moment of his presence--to
be within sound of his voice, within the beams from his eyes--to feel
that she was under the shadow of his protection, and that his glance
hovered over her path wheresoever she went--to preserve her from danger,
and guard her from insult.
To Mark, the change was delicious, for he was near to Lotte; near to
where he might, could, would, should, must see her again, to reason with
her, combat her prejudices, and make a lady of her whether she would or
no--do her principles a violence that he might, for so long as he should
live, prove to her how dearly and devotedly he loved her.
Mr. Wilton’s interviews with his legal adviser, successively taking
place day after day, were the reverse of satisfactory to him. He felt
the estates he had so much coveted, and the near possession of which had
so lifted him out of himself, slipping rapidly out of his fingers.
The new claimant, who seemed to be animated with a vindictive feeling
against Wilton, bore the name of Eglinton. He pushed on his claim with
all the speed of which the law would admit, and without omitting an
opportunity or advantage it gave him. So clear at last did his case
appear that Wilton’s own solicitor suggested an arrangement between
the parties, by which the enormous expense of going into Court might be
avoided.
At first, Mr. Eglinton refused any meeting, and insisted upon
prosecuting his full right to the whole of the property; but he deferred
the meeting for a fortnight--proceedings being, by mutual agreement,
suspended during that period.
In the meanwhile, Lester Vane was a constant guest at Wilton’s
residence. He came early in the morning, and seldom left until he could
with decency no longer stay.
As Vane was the guest of his father, Mark could not interfere; but he
gave that guest very little of his society, notwithstanding, the latter
exerted himself with all his cunning to establish himself on a better
footing with him. Nor did his well-dissembled conduct to Flora, his
quiet hints in favour of Vivian, his deference to her wish, and his
careful abstinence from even a show of love-making to her advance him
in her good opinion; while, strange enough, old Wilton began to tire of
him. He was so enwrapt in the disputed claims to the property he had so
fully believed to be his, that it became irksome to him to have to
keep up a conversation with Vane on subjects which possessed no kind of
interest for him.
One sunny morning, as Vane was seated with Mr Wilton in his library,
the servant of the latter brought in two cards upon a silver salver, and
handed them to him. He looked at them, and with a sudden flush mounting
to his cheeks, said--
“Show them in.”
Two gentlemen immediately afterwards entered the room, and Lester Vane
rose to bow to them, as he heard Mr. Wilton say--
“Mr. Riversdale, Mr. Vivian, the Honorable Lester Vane.”
Lester almost fell back in his seat--not that he cared to meet Hal, but
he had an instinctive dread of encountering Hugh Riversdale.
The latter had bidden him beware of their third encounter. It had now
come to pass; what would be its result?
He clenched his hands firmly, and set his teeth together, but sought to
make his face wear a cold, passionless expression.
Mr. Wilton motioned to his visitors to be seated. The eyes of both fell
glittering upon Lester Vane; but they made no remark. They took their
seats; and Mr. Wilton asked to what he had the honour of attributing the
visit of Mr. Riversdale. He added, with a somewhat gracious manner--
“I rather anticipated the pleasure of seeing Mr. Vivian before this.
I should have called upon or written to him, but I had not his new
address.”
Vivian bowed, but made no reply.
“Mr. Wilton,” said Mr. Riversdale, “you are well acquainted, as a matter
of course, with the unhappy circumstances connected with Mr. Grahame’s
family; I need not, therefore, allude to them. I have sought you, sir,
with a twofold purpose; firstly, to inform you that, as the husband of
the late Mr. Grahame’s eldest daughter, I have taken upon myself the
task of arranging her father’s affairs. I am aware that all his property
is deeply mortgaged, and that he was largely indebted to a gentleman
named Gomer, who still holds in possession the next house, and all it
contains. Mr. Gomer is, I believe, the mortgagee, and I wish to ask a
favour of you”----
At this instant, Lester Vane rose to leave the room, as though the
business, being evidently private, it became him not to remain and
listen.
Hugh Riversdale rose up too, and, with a stern look and voice, said----
“Be seated, sir. You are one of the objects of my visit here, and I
cannot permit you to depart until I have stated it.”
Lester Vane shrugged his shoulders, and reseated himself with an air of
_nonchalance_ that he was far from feeling.
What was coming?
Hugh Riversdale continued speaking to Mr. Wilton.
“I am given to understand, sir, that you possess considerable
influence with Mr. Gomer!” he said, “and I am here to ask you to bury
whatever feeling of animosity you may have entertained for the deceased
Mr. Grahame, and to prevail upon Mr. Gomer to meet me, with a view of so
arranging his claim that something may be rescued out of the wreck for
his son, and for his youngest daughter, Evangeline. In granting me this
favour, you will be exhibiting that nobleness of spirit and disposition
which distinguishes a Christian gentleman, and which I, on good
authority, believe finds a home in your breast.”
Mr. Wilton gave a gulp.
The want of nobleness of spirit had lost him the friendship and
countenance of Gomer.
Clearing his throat, he said--
“I sympathise most deeply with the misfortunes of Mr. Grahame’s family.
Unhappily between us both a deadly feud existed, and Mr. Grahame fell in
the struggle. If I can in any way repair or alleviate the evil which has
fallen like a destroying thunderbolt upon his house, command me; but,
I grieve to say, I now possess no influence over Mr. Gomer, if I ever
did--in truth--I--a--there is a difference between us just now and we
do not meet. I am sorry, therefore, I cannot help you in the quarter you
wish; in any other I shall only be too happy.”
Hugh Riversdale thanked him warmly, and said--
“I may yet require your services, and I shall avail myself of them
without fear.”
“Or favour,” added Wilton.
Making a suitable acknowledgment, Hugh then fixed upon Lester Vane a
fierce glance of hatred, and addressing Mr. Wilton, while he pointed to
the former, said--
“I now, sir, come to the second purpose of my visit. It identifies itself
with that person seated by your side.”
Wilton turned with surprise, and looked first at Vane and then at
Riversdale.
The face of Lester Vane was blanched, otherwise it exhibited no emotion
whatever. A slight smile of defiance only curled his upper lip.
“He is a suitor for your daughter’s hand, and under your promise of its
bestowal upon him?” commenced Hugh.
Wilton, with elevated eyebrows, assented.
“Sir, he is the son of a lord. Granted. But it is fit you should know
that his father has for years lived abroad.”
“I am aware of that,” exclaimed Wilton, sharply.
“Are you also aware that it is because he cannot show his face to his
creditors here in England; are you aware that your intended son-in-law
is worse than a beggar; that he is far beyond his depth in debt, that he
has already raised money upon your daughter’s expected dowry?”
Lester Vane’s face grew whiter, and his lips trembled. Hugh--keeping his
bright eye fastened upon him--went on--
“Are you conscious, Mr. Wilton, that the Honorable Lester Vane is
a blackleg, a sharper, with cards and false dice--a debauchee--a
scoundrel--who, while he was professing the warmest attachment to Miss
Wilton, strove, by the most infamous proposals, to ruin the daughter
of the man at whose house he had been received with cordial
hospitality--that he is a wretch so contemptible that words fail to
express his true character? Are you aware, sir, that such is the man you
have honoured with a place beneath your roof, and to whom you are eager
to entrust the future happiness of your child?”
Mr. Wilton placed his hands to his forehead, bewildered.
He turned to Lester, and in a choking, gasping voice, he said--
“What--what have you to answer to these tremendous charges?”
“That they are, from first to last, false!” answered Vane, striving by
a mighty effort to retain a cool self-possession; “wholly, abominably,
maliciously false! The truth of the matter is, Mr. Wilton, some
time--long before I saw your sweet daughter--the lady, now the wife of
that fellow, betrayed a preference for me, which is the secret of”----
“Scoundrel! dare to breathe one word respecting that lady through your
foul lips, and, notwithstanding Mr. Wilton’s presence, I will fling you
through yon window down to the place beneath.”
“Mere vaunting braggadocio!” returned Vane, with a tremendous effort
to appear cool. “Mr. Wilton, I shall commence an action of libel
against this infernal slanderer; that will be my best answer to his
lying-assertions.”
“There--there should be some proofs adduced to support such terrible
charges,” observed Mr. Wilton to Hugh Riversdale, who was labouring
under the most painful excitement.
“I am prepared to substantiate many of them by the very clearest
evidence!” exclaimed Hal, producing a small packet of papers.
“A disinterested witness, truly!” exclaimed Vane forcing a laugh. “A
concocted scheme, as you may perceive, Mr. Wilton; surely you are not
prepared to condemn me upon such an infamous machination as this?”
The door at this moment opened, and Nathan Gomer entered, followed by a
sturdy looking man.
He pointed to Lester Vane.
“There is your man, officer!” he exclaimed.
Lester Vane uttered an exclamation of fright; he darted from his chair
and made for the open window. The height was something, but he paused
not to think of it, and leaped out to the ground below.
“Villain! you shall not thus escape my rightful vengeance!” shouted Hugh
Riversdale, and dashed after him.
The officer, however, sprang upon him, and seizing him by the collar,
detained him.
“Hold, sir!” he cried; “there is a man below to prevent his escape.
Besides, he must have broken his limbs, if he has not his head.”
Gomer stood watching excitedly the movements of Vane and Hugh, at
the elbow of Wilton. The latter, with a sudden faintness, clutched at
Gomer’s arm.
“Support me, or I shall swoon!” he exclaimed.
“No!” said Gomer, brusquely.
He pushed Hal towards him, adding--
“Here is the proper person.”
Mr. Wilton, almost insensible, sank on to the breast of Harry Vivian.