A BRANCH IS LOPPED FROM THE FAMILY TREE.
THE letter in which Dr. Massenger acquainted Mr. Manwaring with his
son’s delinquency was a very matter-of-fact document, and stated the
points which had come to his knowledge with minute and relentless
exactness. It plainly expressed the writer’s deliberate conviction that
Wilfred was a thief, and hinted at his regret that he had not been more
particular before he had admitted him to the companionship of gentlemen
of noble birth.
The reception of this letter was, as may be supposed, a great blow
to the Squire. But it filled him with rage rather than with grief;
and after two or three hours’ consideration, he determined on the
immediate and condign punishment of the offender who had brought
disgrace upon the Family. A son of _his_ not a fit companion for
_anyone_! Here was the sting. A member of the ancient Family of
Manwaring not fit to associate with the son of a _parvenu_ like
Lord Guttleborough! Here was the disgrace! In his self-conceit, so
convinced was he that no one would venture to attempt to deceive him,
that it never even entered into his head to weigh the evidence of the
alleged crime; nor in all that he did, and in all that he determined to
do, did the father once think of the moral wickedness of the act which
he believed his own son to have committed. All he thought of, and all
he thought of punishing him for, was, not the sin committed against
God and man, but the offence committed against the House of Manwaring.
Pride of ancestry, which, kept within due bounds and rightly regulated,
might to some be an incentive to good and to noble action--_Noblesse
oblige_--became, in the case of the Squire of Holmcastle, the parent
of evil in its effects, as well as a positive crime in itself. The
desire of retribution made the old man blind. In his rage and wounded
pride, he forgot what he had once forgotten before, that the acres of
his much-loved Holmcastle were entailed upon the son he was about to
cast out like a dog upon the world, and that if his son Lionel should
die without issue, the castaway, should he survive, would come to reign
in his own stead at the Manor.
Poor Evelyn learned from her father the outline of the story of her
beloved brother’s crime and disgrace, and finding her own urgent
entreaties of no avail, she hastily despatched a letter to the Rectory,
to entreat Mr. Elthorne to visit her father, and try to dissuade him
from any rash course. The Rector, in great distress of mind--for he
loved and valued the boy--came at once, but he altogether failed to
dissuade the Squire from the course on which he had already determined.
Mr. Manwaring was in many respects a weak man, but, like most weak
men, he was as obstinate as a mule. If it was long before he could
come to any definite decision at all, yet, when he had once formed
it, he deemed that it was as irreversible as the laws of the Medes
and Persians, and it was next to impossible to turn him from it. So
it proved on the present occasion. Mr. Elthorne found the Squire as
hard as adamant. As the old and trusted friend of the family, and as
the Parish Priest, he tried to shake his determination, but he tried
in vain. In vain he pointed out the injustice of precipitation. In
vain he prayed the Squire to adopt mild measures towards his son,
who, after all, might not be guilty, and who, even _if_ guilty,
might, by kindness and love, be won back to repentance and virtue.
In vain he set before the Squire the duty of keeping a place in the
fold for the strayed sheep; a seat by the old familiar home-hearth for
the returning prodigal, if such he were. In vain he pointed out that
that “Gospel within a Gospel,” the Parable of the Prodigal Son, had a
double application, and held up to view, for the imitation of his chief
parishioner, the Majestic Figure of the Father running forward with the
outstretched arms of Divine Mercy to embrace him who, lost in the mazes
of sin, had resolved to arise and return to his home. In vain, in vain;
for that tender parable had, for that wretched father, been spoken to
no purpose! At length Mr. Elthorne was stirred to strong indignation,
and sternly rebuked the obstinate old man. “I warn you,” he said, as
he took his leave, “that you are about to commit a sin against God and
against your own son. You are resolved to sacrifice the living to the
dead. Who are you, that you dare to withhold forgiveness from another,
and _that_ one your own flesh and blood? ‘Vengeance is Mine,’
saith God; ‘I will repay.’ And know this, proud man, that if it were
to please God to strike you down in this revengeful frame of mind, my
hands would refuse to administer to you the Blessed Sacrament to soothe
your dying hours!” And so Mr. Elthorne left the house, after a short
interview with Evelyn, in which he assured her of his entire belief in
Wilfred’s innocence.
As soon as the Rector had departed, Mr. Manwaring unlocked his black
oak escritoire, and drew thence the lengthy parchment which contained
the emblazoned pedigree of his Family. He then rang the bell, and when
the old butler entered the room, he said, “Pinfold, I have called
you to witness my act,” and then with penknife and sandpaper he
deliberately erased his younger son’s name from the parchment. This
done, he added, “When he who was my son arrives, show him to his room,
and let him sup there; he leaves for London to-morrow, never to return.
Tell the servants and people never to mention his name in my presence
again. You will make the necessary preparations for his departure by
the first train. In an hour’s time I shall have a letter ready, which
you will put into his hands on his arrival. There, that will do; I
will ring when the letter is ready.”
So Pinfold retired, and the old man was left alone to write and to sign
what, little as he knew it, was in veriest truth his own death-warrant.