"Oh, Uncle William!" exclaimed Miss Weston, now at length raising her head from her hands.
"Hold your peace, madam," said he. "When called upon to speak, you will find your words with difficulty enough. Sir, I am waiting for an answer from you."
"But, uncle, he is nothing to me;--the gentleman is nothing to me!"
"By the heavens above us, he shall be something, or I will know the reason why! What! he has gone off with you; he has travelled through the country with you, hiding you from your only natural friend; he has been your companion for weeks--"
"Six days, sir," said I.
"Sir!" said the baronet, again giving me the lie. "And now," he continued, addressing his niece, "you tell me that he is nothing to you. He shall give me his promise that he will make you his wife at the consulate at Alexandria, or I will destroy him. I know who he is."
"If you know who I am," said I, "you must know--"
But he would not listen to me. "And as for you, madam, unless he makes me that promise--" And then he paused in his threat, and, turning round, looked me in the face. I saw that she also was looking at me, though not openly as he did; and some flattering devil that was at work round my heart, would have persuaded that she also would have heard a certain answer given without dismay,--would even have received comfort in her agony from such an answer. But the reader knows how completely that answer was out of my power.
"I have not the slightest ground for supposing," said I, "that the lady would accede to such an arrangement,--if it were possible. My acquaintance with her has been altogether confined to--. To tell the truth, I have not been in Miss Weston"s confidence, and have only taken her for that which she has seemed to be."
"Sir!" said the baronet, again looking at me as though he would wither me on the spot for my falsehood.
"It is true!" said Julia, getting up from her seat, and appealing with clasped hands to her uncle--"as true as Heaven."
"Madam!" said he, "do you both take me for a fool?"
"That you should take me for one," said I, "would be very natural.
The facts are as we state to you. Miss Weston,--as I now learn that she is,--did me the honour of calling at my hotel, having heard--"
And then it seemed to me as though I were attempting to screen myself by telling the story against her, so I was again silent.
Never in my life had I been in a position of such extraordinary difficulty. The duty which I owed to Julia as a woman, and to Sir William as a guardian, and to myself as the father of a family, all clashed with each other. I was anxious to be generous, honest, and prudent, but it was impossible; so I made up my mind to say nothing further.
"Mr. Jones," said the baronet, "I have explained to you the only arrangement which under the present circ.u.mstances I can permit to pa.s.s without open exposure and condign punishment. That you are a gentleman by birth, education, and position I am aware,"--whereupon I raised my hat, and then he continued: "That lady has three hundred a year of her own--"
"And attractions, personal and mental, which are worth ten times the money," said I, and I bowed to my fair friend, who looked at me the while with sad beseeching eyes. I confess that the mistress of my bosom, had she known my thoughts at that one moment, might have had cause for anger.
"Very well," continued he. "Then the proposal which I name, cannot, I imagine, but be satisfactory. If you will make to her and to me the only amends which it is in your power as a gentleman to afford, I will forgive all. Tell me that you will make her your wife on your arrival in Egypt."
I would have given anything not to have looked at Miss Weston at this moment, but I could not help it. I did turn my face half round to her before I answered, and then felt that I had been cruel in doing so. "Sir William," said I, "I have at home already a wife and family of my own."
"It is not true!" said he, retreating a step, and staring at me with amazement.
"There is something, sir," I replied, "in the unprecedented circ.u.mstances of this meeting, and in your position with regard to that lady, which, joined to your advanced age, will enable me to regard that useless insult as unspoken. I am a married man. There is the signature of my wife"s last letter," and I handed him one which I had received as I was leaving Jerusalem.
But the coa.r.s.e violent contradiction which Sir William had given me was nothing compared with the reproach conveyed in Miss Weston"s countenance. She looked at me as though all her anger were now turned against me. And yet, methought, there was more of sorrow than of resentment in her countenance. But what cause was there for either? Why should I be reproached, even by her look? She did not remember at the moment that when I answered her chance question as to my domestic affairs, I had answered it as to a man who was a stranger to me, and not as to a beautiful woman, with whom I was about to pa.s.s certain days in close and intimate society. To her, at the moment, it seemed as though I had cruelly deceived her. In truth, the one person really deceived had been myself.
And here I must explain, on behalf of the lady, that when she first joined me she had no other view than that of seeing the banks of the Jordan in that guise which she had chosen to a.s.sume, in order to escape from the solemnity and austerity of a disagreeable relative.
She had been very foolish, and that was all. I take it that she had first left her uncle at Constantinople, but on this point I never got certain information. Afterwards, while we were travelling together, the idea had come upon her, that she might go on as far as Alexandria with me. And then I know nothing further of the lady"s intentions, but I am certain that her wishes were good and pure.
Her uncle had been intolerable to her, and she had fled from him.
Such had been her offence, and no more.
"Then, sir," said the baronet, giving me back my letter, "you must be a double-dyed villain."
"And you, sir," said I -. But here Julia Weston interrupted me.
"Uncle, you altogether wrong this gentleman," she said. "He has been kind to me beyond my power of words to express; but, till told by you, he knew nothing of my secret. Nor would he have known it,"
she added, looking down upon the ground. As to that latter a.s.sertion, I was at liberty to believe as much as I pleased.
The Pole now came to the door, informing us that any who wished to start by the packet must go on board, and therefore, as the unreasonable old gentleman perceived, it was necessary that we should all make our arrangements. I cannot say that they were such as enable me to look back on them with satisfaction. He did seem now at last to believe that I had been an unconscious agent in his niece"s stratagem, but he hardly on that account became civil to me.
"It was absolutely necessary," he said, "that he and that unfortunate young woman," as he would call her, "should depart at once,--by this ship now going." To this proposition of course I made no opposition. "And you, Mr. Jones," he continued, "will at once perceive that you, as a gentleman, should allow us to proceed on our journey without the honour of your company."
This was very dreadful, but what could I say; or, indeed, what could I do? My most earnest desire in the matter was to save Miss Weston from annoyance; and under existing circ.u.mstances my presence on board could not but be a burden to her. And then, if I went,--if I did go, in opposition to the wishes of the baronet, could I trust my own prudence? It was better for all parties that I should remain.
"Sir William," said I, after a minute"s consideration, "if you will apologise to me for the gross insults you have offered me, it shall be as you say."
"Mr. Jones," said Sir William, "I do apologise for the words which I used to you while I was labouring under a very natural misconception of the circ.u.mstances." I do not know that I was much the better for the apology, but at the moment I regarded it sufficient.
Their things were then hurried down to the strand, and I accompanied them to the ruined quay. I took off my hat to Sir William as he was first let down into the boat. He descended first, so that he might receive his niece,--for all Jaffa now knew that it was a lady,--and then I gave her my hand for the last time. "G.o.d bless you, Miss Weston," I said, pressing it closely. "G.o.d bless you, Mr. Jones,"
she replied. And from that day to this I have neither spoken to her nor seen her.
I waited a fortnight at Jaffa for the French boat, eating cutlets of goat"s flesh, and wandering among the orange groves. I certainly look back on that fortnight as the most miserable period of my life.
I had been deceived, and had failed to discover the deceit, even though the deceiver had perhaps wished that I should do so. For that blindness I have never forgiven myself.