"True, I did," replied Jaspar, with a whining sullenness. "What would you have of me now?"
"Only that you fulfil the stipulations of the bargain."
"Can I fulfil them? Can I marry you, even if the girl were willing?"
"You can give your commands. Will she not obey them?"
"Fool if she does!" muttered Jaspar, in a low tone.
"She will be so glad to be restored to her home, I fancy she will not think the terms are hard."
"I don"t know," said Jaspar, eying the attorney from head to foot. "I consent to the marriage. I can do no more."
"Perhaps you will be willing to use a little gentle force, to save your own neck," said the attorney, with something like a sneer.
"Anything, anything, that will silence your d.a.m.ning tongue, and rid me of your teasing!"
"Now, sir, you are reasonable."
"Summon the girl," said Jaspar, impatiently. "I will say all I have to say in a few words. But, if she foils you, it is not my fault."
"True sir; but Miss Dumont, at this critical juncture of her affairs, will have respect for your counsels;" and the attorney withdrew to call her.
Emily entered the abode of her early years, and the memories of the past came crowding thick upon her. She seemed to realize that her sorrows were near an end, but the hope which such a pleasant thought inspired could not entirely overcome the gloom which the scene around her was calculated to produce. It was here she had often rambled with her father, and a thousand trivial incidents presented themselves to remind her of him.
As she entered the house, she clung to the arm of Vernon, as though she was entering the abode of evil spirits; for, with all the memories of the past, she could not forget that the home of her childhood was inhabited by her inhuman uncle.
She had been but a short time seated in the old, familiar drawing-room, like a stranger now, when De Guy entered, to request her presence in the library. She rose, and looked at Vernon, who, understanding the glance, approached, as if to bear her company.
"This gentleman had better remain here," suggested De Guy.
"I prefer that he should attend me," said Emily, firmly, even while her heart rose to her throat, at the thought of meeting her uncle.
"But really, madam, his presence would embarra.s.s the business of the interview."
"He is a friend," stammered Emily, "and is acquainted with all the circ.u.mstances of this affair."
"I will attend her, sir," said Vernon, who had before remained silent.
"Pardon me," said the attorney, looking sharply at Vernon, "but it will be impossible to transact any business in presence of others."
"Lead on," said Vernon, sternly; "I will attend the lady, in spite of all objections."
"Sir, you are insolent!" said the attorney, tartly, though without the loss of his self-possession.
"The gentleman will not in the least r.e.t.a.r.d the business. Pray pa.s.s on,"
interposed Emily, fearful of a collision between the parties.
"It is impossible, madam. I must insist that he remain here. Such is Mr.
Dumont"s express order."
"Will you say to Mr. Dumont that the lady demands my attendance? Perhaps he will yield the point," answered Vernon.
"I will see him, but it is useless. I know his views;" and De Guy left the room.
"Do not hesitate to go with him, Miss Dumont; I will be close at hand; but no violence will be offered you. I see my father and Captain Carroll coming up the road," said Vernon, looking out the window. "Yield, if necessary, and fear nothing."
"Mr. Dumont persists in his purpose of meeting the lady alone," said De Guy, as he reentered the drawing-room.
"The lady, in your absence, has concluded to dispense with my attendance," replied Vernon.
"This way, madam,"--and the attorney, with punctilious politeness, led the way.
Vernon threw himself upon a sofa, as they were leaving; but no sooner had the door closed, than he rose in haste, and left the apartment.
Reaching the veranda of the house, he met Dr. Vaudelier and Henry Carroll, who followed him back to the drawing-room.
"This way, silently, if you please," said he, and then closed the door.
A moment sufficed to inform the new comers of the position of affairs; then Vernon left the room, and went to the library door, which he found, by Henry"s direction. Stationing himself in a recess behind some coats, he waited till his presence should be needed.
The meeting between Emily and her uncle was not embarra.s.sed by any formal greetings. Jaspar did not even raise his eyes from the floor, as she entered. He heard the door close, and being aware by the silence of the parties--for De Guy had judged an announcement unnecessary--that they were ready to hear him, he said, in a gentle tone,
"Emily, I have sent for you to receive a proposition, which will finally terminate the unfortunate circ.u.mstances that have shrouded our family in hostility and misery."
"Indeed, uncle, I have no feeling of hostility towards you. G.o.d forbid!"
replied Emily, upon whose agitated senses Jaspar"s mild words had fallen like promises of peace.
Jaspar was astonished. He had lost much of the severity of his disposition in the miseries which had overtaken him. He was humiliated, his spirit broken, and he could not understand why his victim did not upbraid him, as he expected, for the wrongs he had inflicted. A momentary hope of reconciliation on better terms crossed his mind; but there stood the attorney, who would permit no other compromise.
"I restore your fortune," said Jaspar, with a shudder, as he raised his head for the first time from the floor to look upon his niece,--"I restore it, on one condition."
"Name not the fortune, uncle; your peace and happiness are far dearer to me than all the wealth of the world. You have wronged me, but I freely forgive you; and Heaven will also forgive you, if you sin no more. O, uncle, I beseech you dismiss this evil man, and let me be to you as a daughter!"
"Let us attend to business, if you please, Mr. Dumont," said the attorney, in a whining tone; for, it must be confessed, the conversation had a.s.sumed a different turn from what he had antic.i.p.ated.
"I must state the business for which I requested your presence," said Jaspar, not a little moved by the words of Emily. Human nature is a strange compound of inconsistencies. This man, whose life had been stained with crime, was now disposed to regard the past with contrition.
We have seen him scorning even an allusion to the higher life of the soul,--but success was then within the reach of his crime-stained hand!
Now, failure on every hand awaited him, and all those bravadoes with which he had kept down his better nature deserted him. Not one scornful thought came to banish the good angel from his presence. But the feeling was of short duration. It was but a momentary contrition, which a selfish hope or a burst of pa.s.sion could dissipate.
"I will restore your fortune, on one condition," said he. "You can accept or reject it, at your option."
"I beg your pardon," suggested the attorney, "these were not exactly the terms of our contract."
"Name the condition, uncle," added Emily, indifferently; for she was anxious to have the business, whatever it might be, finished, so that she could again plead with Jaspar for his personal reformation, for she was a little encouraged by the appearance of humiliation he had manifested.
"I restore your fortune, on condition that you give your hand to this gentleman in marriage;"--and Jaspar again fixed his eyes on the floor, as if he dreaded the outbreak of a storm.
"This gentleman!" exclaimed Emily, indignantly. "This gentleman!"--and she gazed upon him with a proud look of contempt, from which the attorney would fain have hid his head. Her surprise was equal to her indignation. Vernon had told her that _Maxwell_ was to be the suppliant for her hand, and she could not see why his menial had the presumption to claim her.
"This gentleman!" repeated Emily. "I had rather die a thousand deaths!"