St. Ronan's Well Page 38

  CHAPTER XIV.

  DISAPPOINTMENT.

  On the lee-beam lies the land, boys, See all clear to reef each course; Let the fore-sheet go, don't mind, boys, Though the weather should be worse.

  _The Storm._

  "It darkens round me like a tempest," thought Lord Etherington, as, withslow step, folded arms, and his white hat slouched over his brows, hetraversed the short interval of space betwixt his own apartments andthose of the Lady Penelope. In a buck of the old school, one ofCongreve's men of wit and pleasure about town, this would have been adeparture from character; but the present fine man does not derogatefrom his quality, even by exhibiting all the moody and gentlemanlikesolemnity of Master Stephen.[II-C] So, Lord Etherington was at liberty tocarry on his reflections, without attracting observation.--"I have put astopper into the mouth of that old vinegar-cruet of quality, but theacidity of her temper will soon dissolve the charm--And what to do?"

  As he looked round him, he saw his trusty valet Solmes, who, touchinghis hat with due respect, said, as he passed him, "Your lordship'sletters are in your private dispatch-box."

  Simple as these words were, and indifferent the tone in which they werespoken, their import made Lord Etherington's heart bound as if his fatehad depended on the accents. He intimated no farther interest in thecommunication, however, than to desire Solmes to be below, in case heshould ring; and with these words entered his apartment, and barred andbolted the door, even before he looked on the table where hisdispatch-box was placed.

  Lord Etherington had, as is usual, one key to the box which held hisletters, his confidential servant being intrusted with the other; sothat, under the protection of a patent lock, his dispatches escaped allrisk of being tampered with,--a precaution not altogether unnecessary onthe part of those who frequent hotels and lodging-houses.

  "By your leave, Mr. Bramah," said the Earl, as he applied the key,jesting, as it were, with his own agitation, as he would have done withthat of a third party. The lid was raised, and displayed the packet, theappearance and superscription of which had attracted his observation buta short while before in the post-office. _Then_ he would have given muchto be possessed of the opportunity which was now in his power; but manypause on the brink of a crime, who have contemplated it at a distancewithout scruple. Lord Etherington's first impulse had led him to pokethe fire; and he held in his hand the letter which he was more than halftempted to commit, without even breaking the seal, to the fiery element.But, though sufficiently familiarized with guilt, he was not as yetacquainted with it in its basest shapes--he had not yet acted withmeanness, or at least with what the world terms such. He had been aduellist, the manners of the age authorized it--a libertine, the worldexcused it to his youth and condition--a bold and successful gambler,for that quality he was admired and envied; and a thousand otherinaccuracies, to which these practices and habits lead, were easilyslurred over in a man of quality, with fortune and spirit to support hisrank. But his present meditated act was of a different kind. Tell it notin Bond Street, whisper it not on St. James's pavement!--it amounted toan act of petty larceny, for which the code of honour would admit of nocomposition.

  Lord Etherington, under the influence of these recollections, stood fora few minutes suspended--But the devil always finds logic to convincehis followers. He recollected the wrong done to his mother, and tohimself, her offspring, to whom his father had, in the face of the wholeworld, imparted the hereditary rights, of which he was now, by aposthumous deed, endeavouring to deprive the memory of the one and theexpectations of the other. Surely, the right being his own, he had afull title, by the most effectual means, whatever such means might be,to repel all attacks on that right, and even destroy, if necessary, thedocuments by which his enemies were prosecuting their unjust plansagainst his honour and interest.

  This reasoning prevailed, and Lord Etherington again held the devotedpacket above the flames; when it occurred to him, that, his resolutionbeing taken, he ought to carry it into execution as effectually aspossible; and to do so, it was necessary to know, that the packetactually contained the papers which he was desirous to destroy.

  Never did a doubt arise in juster time; for no sooner had the sealburst, and the envelope rustled under his fingers, than he perceived, tohis utter consternation, that he held in his hand only the copies ofthe deeds for which Francis Tyrrel had written, the originals of whichhe had too sanguinely concluded would be forwarded according to hisrequisition. A letter from a partner of the house with which they weredeposited, stated, that they had not felt themselves at liberty, in theabsence of the head of their firm, to whom these papers had beencommitted, to part with them even to Mr. Tyrrel, though they hadproceeded so far as to open the parcel, and now transmitted to himformal copies of the papers contained in it, which, they presumed, wouldserve Mr. Tyrrel's purpose for consulting counsel, or the like. Theythemselves, in a case of so much delicacy, and in the absence of theirprincipal partner, were determined to retain the originals, unlesscalled to produce them in a court of justice.

  With a solemn imprecation on the formality and absurdity of the writer,Lord Etherington let the letter of advice drop from his hand into thefire, and throwing himself into a chair, passed his hand across hiseyes, as if their very power of sight had been blighted by what he hadread. His title, and his paternal fortune, which he thought but aninstant before might be rendered unchallengeable by a single movement ofhis hand, seemed now on the verge of being lost for ever. His rapidrecollection failed not to remind him of what was less known to theworld, that his early and profuse expenditure had greatly dilapidatedhis maternal fortune; and that the estate of Nettlewood, which fiveminutes ago he only coveted as a wealthy man desires increase of hisstore, must now be acquired, if he would avoid being a poor andembarrassed spendthrift. To impede his possessing himself of thisproperty, fate had restored to the scene the penitent of the morning,who, as he had too much reason to believe, was returned to thisneighbourhood, to do justice to Clara Mowbray, and who was not unlikelyto put the whole story of the marriage on its right footing. She,however, might be got rid of; and it might still be possible to hurryMiss Mowbray, by working on her fears, or through the agency of herbrother, into a union with him while he still preserved the title ofLord Etherington. This, therefore, he resolved to secure, if effort orif intrigue could carry the point; nor was it the least consideration,that, should he succeed, he would obtain over Tyrrel, his successfulrival, such a triumph, as would be sufficient to embitter thetranquillity of his whole life.

  In a few minutes, his rapid and contriving invention had formed a planfor securing the sole advantage which seemed to remain open for him; andconscious that he had no time to lose, he entered immediately upon theexecution.

  The bell summoned Solmes to his lordship's apartment, when the Earl, ascoolly as if he had hoped to dupe his experienced valet by such anassertion, said, "You have brought me a packet designed for some man atthe Aultoun--let it be sent to him--Stay,--I will re-seal it first."

  He accordingly re-sealed the packet, containing all the writings,excepting the letter of advice, (which he had burnt,) and gave it to thevalet, with the caution, "I wish you would not make such blunders infuture."

  "I beg your lordship's pardon--I will take better care again--thought itwas addressed to your lordship."

  So answered Solmes, too knowing to give the least look of intelligence,far less to remind the Earl that his own directions had occasioned themistake of which he complained.

  "Solmes," continued the Earl, "you need not mention your blunder at thepost-office; it would only occasion tattle in this idle place--but besure that the gentleman has his letter.--And, Solmes, I see Mr. Mowbraywalk across--ask him to dine with me to-day at five. I have a headache,and cannot face the clamour of the savages who feed at the publictable.--And let me see--make my compliments to Lady PenelopePenfeather--I will certainly have the honour of waiting on her ladyshipthis evening to tea, agreeably to her very boring invitationreceive
d--write her a proper card, and word it your own way. Bespeakdinner for two, and see you have some of that batch of Burgundy." Theservant was retiring, when his master added, "Stay a moment--I have amore important business than I have yet mentioned.--Solmes, you havemanaged devilish ill about the woman Irwin!"

  "I, my lord?" answered Solmes.

  "Yes, you, sir--did you not tell me she had gone to the West Indies witha friend of yours, and did not I give them a couple of hundred poundsfor passage-money?"

  "Yes, my lord," replied the valet.

  "Ay, but now it proves _no_, my lord," said Lord Etherington; "for shehas found her way back to this country in miserable plight--half-starved,and, no doubt, willing to do or say any thing for a livelihood--How hasthis happened?"

  "Biddulph must have taken her cash, and turned her loose, my lord,"answered Solmes, as if he had been speaking of the most commonplacetransaction in the world; "but I know the woman's nature so well, and amso much master of her history, that I can carry her off the country intwenty-four hours, and place her where she will never think ofreturning, provided your lordship can spare me so long."

  "About it directly--but I can tell you, that you will find the woman ina very penitential humour, and very ill in health to boot."

  "I am sure of my game," answered Solmes; "with submission to yourlordship, I think if death and her good angel had hold of one of thatwoman's arms, the devil and I could make a shift to lead her away by theother."

  "Away and about it, then," said Etherington. "But, hark ye, Solmes, bekind to her, and see all her wants relieved. I have done her mischiefenough--though nature and the devil had done half the work to my hand."

  Solmes at length was permitted to withdraw to execute his variouscommissions, with an assurance that his services would not be wanted forthe next twenty-four hours.

  "Soh!" said the Earl, as his agent withdrew, "there is a spring put inmotion, which, well oiled, will move the whole machine--And here, inlucky time, comes Harry Jekyl--I hear his whistle on the stairs.--Thereis a silly lightness of heart about that fellow, which I envy, while Idespise it; but he is welcome now, for I want him."

  Jekyl entered accordingly, and broke out with "I am glad to see one ofyour fellows laying a cloth for two in your parlour, Etherington--I wasafraid you were going down among these confounded bores again to-day."

  "_You_ are not to be one of the two, Hal," answered Lord Etherington.

  "No?--then I may be a third, I hope, if not second?"

  "Neither first, second, nor third, Captain.--The truth is, I want atete-a-tete with Mr. Mowbray of St. Ronan's," replied the Earl; "and,besides, I have to beg the very particular favour of you to go again tothat fellow Martigny. It is time that he should produce his papers, ifhe has any--of which, for one, I do not believe a word. He has had ampletime to hear from London; and I think I have delayed long enough in animportant matter upon his bare assertion."

  "I cannot blame your impatience," said Jekyl, "and I will go on yourerrand instantly. As you waited on my advice, I am bound to find an endto your suspense.--At the same time, if the man is not possessed of suchpapers as he spoke of, I must own he is happy in a command of consummateassurance, which might set up the whole roll of attorneys."

  "You will be soon able to judge of that," said Lord Etherington; "andnow, off with you--Why do you look at me so anxiously?"

  "I cannot tell--I have strange forebodings about this tete-a-tete withMowbray. You should spare him, Etherington--he is not your match--wantsboth judgment and temper."

  "Tell him so, Jekyl," answered the Earl, "and his proud Scotch stomachwill be up in an instant, and he will pay you with a shot for yourpains.--Why, he thinks himself cock of the walk, this strutting bantam,notwithstanding the lesson I gave him before--And what do you think?--Hehas the impudence to talk about my attentions to Lady Binks asinconsistent with the prosecution of my suit to his sister! Yes,Hal--this awkward Scotch laird, that has scarce tact enough to make loveto a ewe-milker, or, at best, to some daggletailed soubrette, has theassurance to start himself as my rival!"

  "Then, good-night to St. Ronan's!--this will be a fatal dinner tohim.--Etherington, I know by that laugh you are bent on mischief--I havea great mind to give him a hint."

  "I wish you would," answered the Earl; "it would all turn to myaccount."

  "Do you defy me?--Well, if I meet him, I will put him on his guard."

  The friends parted; and it was not long ere Jekyl encountered Mowbray onone of the public walks.

  "You dine with Etherington to-day?" said the Captain--"Forgive me, Mr.Mowbray, if I say one single word--Beware."

  "Of what should I beware, Captain Jekyl," answered Mowbray, "when I dinewith a friend of your own, and a man of honour?"

  "Certainly Lord Etherington is both, Mr. Mowbray; but he loves play, andis too hard for most people."

  "I thank you for your hint, Captain Jekyl--I am a raw Scotchman, it istrue; but yet I know a thing or two. Fair play is always presumedamongst gentlemen; and that taken for granted, I have the vanity tothink I need no one's caution on the subject, not even Captain Jekyl's,though his experience must needs be so much superior to mine."

  "In that case, sir," said Jekyl, bowing coldly, "I have no more to say,and I hope there is no harm done.--Conceited coxcomb!" he added,mentally, as they parted, "how truly did Etherington judge of him, andwhat an ass was I to intermeddle!--I hope Etherington will strip him ofevery feather!"

  He pursued his walk in quest of Tyrrel, and Mowbray proceeded to theapartments of the Earl, in a temper of mind well suited to the purposesof the latter, who judged of his disposition accurately when hepermitted Jekyl to give his well-meant warning. To be supposed, by a manof acknowledged fashion, so decidedly inferior to his antagonist--to beconsidered as an object of compassion, and made the subject of agood-boy warning, was gall and bitterness to his proud spirit, which,the more that he felt a conscious inferiority in the arts which they allcultivated, struggled the more to preserve the footing of at leastapparent equality.

  Since the first memorable party at piquet, Mowbray had never hazardedhis luck with Lord Etherington, except for trifling stakes; but hisconceit led him to suppose that he now fully understood his play, and,agreeably to the practice of those who have habituated themselves togambling, he had every now and then felt a yearning to try for hisrevenge. He wished also to be out of Lord Etherington's debt, feelinggalled under a sense of pecuniary obligation, which hindered hisspeaking his mind to him fully upon the subject of his flirtation withLady Binks, which he justly considered as an insult to his family,considering the footing on which the Earl seemed desirous to stand withClara Mowbray. From these obligations a favourable evening might freehim, and Mowbray was, in fact, indulging in a waking dream to thispurpose, when Jekyl interrupted him. His untimely warning only excited aspirit of contradiction, and a determination to show the adviser howlittle he was qualified to judge of his talents; and in this humour,his ruin, which was the consequence of that afternoon, was far fromseeming to be the premeditated, or even the voluntary work of the Earlof Etherington.

  On the contrary, the victim himself was the first to propose play--deepplay--double stakes; while Lord Etherington, on the other hand, oftenproposed to diminish their game, or to break off entirely; but it wasalways with an affectation of superiority which only stimulated Mowbrayto farther and more desperate risks; and, at last, when Mowbray becamehis debtor to an overwhelming amount, (his circumstances considered,)the Earl threw down the cards, and declared he should be too late forLady Penelope's tea-party, to which he was positively engaged.

  "Will you not give me my revenge?" said Mowbray, taking up the cards,and shuffling them with fierce anxiety.

  "Not now, Mowbray; we have played too long already--you have lost toomuch--more than perhaps is convenient for you to pay."

  Mowbray gnashed his teeth, in spite of his resolution to maintain anexterior, at least, of firmness.

  "You can take your time, you know," said the Ea
rl; "a note of hand willsuit me as well as the money."

  "No, by G--!" answered Mowbray, "I will not be so taken in a secondtime--I had better have sold myself to the devil than to yourlordship--I have never been my own man since."

  "These are not very kind expressions, Mowbray," said the Earl; "you_would_ play, and they that will play must expect sometimes to lose"----

  "And they who win will expect to be paid," said Mowbray, breaking in. "Iknow that as well as you, my lord, and you shall be paid--I will payyou--I will pay you, by G--! Do you make any doubt that I will pay you,my lord?"

  "You look as if you thought of paying me in sharp coin," said LordEtherington; "and I think that would scarce be consistent with the termswe stand upon towards each other."

  "By my soul, my lord," said Mowbray, "I cannot tell what these termsare; and to be at my wit's end at once, I should be glad to know. Youset out upon paying addresses to my sister, and with your visits andopportunities at Shaws-Castle, I cannot find the matter makes the leastprogress--it keeps moving without advancing, like a child'srocking-horse. Perhaps you think that you have curbed me up so tightly,that I dare not stir in the matter; but you will find itotherwise.--Your lordship may keep a haram if you will, but my sistershall not enter it."

  "You are angry, and therefore you are unjust," said Etherington; "youknow well enough it is your sister's fault that there is any delay. I ammost willing--most desirous--to call her Lady Etherington--nothing buther unlucky prejudices against me have retarded a union which I have somany reasons for desiring."

  "Well," replied Mowbray, "that shall be my business. I know no reasonshe can pretend to decline a marriage so honourable to her house, andwhich is approved of by me, that house's head. That matter shall bearranged in twenty-four hours."

  "It will do me the most sensible pleasure," said Lord Etherington; "youshall soon see how sincerely I desire your alliance; and as for thetrifle you have lost"----

  "It is no trifle to me, my lord--it is my ruin--but it shall bepaid--and let me tell your lordship, you may thank your good luck for itmore than your good play."

  "We will say no more of it at present, if you please," said LordEtherington, "to-morrow is a new day; and if you will take my advice,you will not be too harsh with your sister. A little firmness is seldomamiss with young women, but severity"----

  "I will pray your lordship to spare me your advice on this subject.However valuable it may be in other respects, I can, I take it, speak tomy own sister in my own way."

  "Since you are so caustically-disposed, Mowbray," answered the Earl, "Ipresume you will not honour her ladyship's tea-table to-night, though Ibelieve it will be the last of the season?"

  "And why should you think so, my lord?" answered Mowbray, whose losseshad rendered him testy and contradictory upon every subject that wasstarted. "Why should not I pay my respects to Lady Penelope, or anyother tabby of quality? I have no title, indeed; but I suppose that myfamily"----

  "Entitles you to become a canon of Strasburgh[II-D] doubtless--But you donot seem in a very Christian mood for taking orders. All I meant to saywas, that you and Lady Pen were not used to be on such a good footing."

  "Well, she sent me a card for her blow-out," said Mowbray; "and so I amresolved to go. When I have been there half an hour, I will ride up toShaws-Castle, and you shall hear of my speed in wooing for you to-morrowmorning."