It will now be well to explain the cause of Mr. Beaufort"s heightened spirits, and the motives of his conduct with respect to his daughter"s suitor.
This, perhaps, can be best done by laying before the reader the following letters that pa.s.sed between Mr. Beaufort and Lord Lilburne.
From LORD LILBURNE to ROBERT BEAUFORT, ESQ., M.P.
"DEAR BEAUFORT,--I think I have settled, pretty satisfactorily, your affair with your unwelcome visitor. The first thing it seemed to me necessary to do, was to learn exactly what and who he was, and with what parties that could annoy you he held intercourse. I sent for Sharp, the Bow Street officer, and placed him in the hall to mark, and afterwards to dog and keep watch on your new friend. The moment the latter entered I saw at once, from his dress and his address, that he was a "scamp;"
and thought it highly inexpedient to place you in his power by any money transactions. While talking with him, Sharp sent in a billet containing his recognition of our gentleman as a transported convict.
"I acted accordingly; soon saw, from the fellow"s manner, that he had returned before his time; and sent him away with a promise, which you may be sure he believes will be kept, that if he molest you farther, he shall return to the colonies, and that if his lawsuit proceed, his witness or witnesses shall be indicted for conspiracy and perjury. Make your mind easy so far. For the rest, I own to you that I think what he says probable enough: but my object in setting Sharp to watch him is to learn what other parties he sees. And if there be really anything formidable in his proofs or witnesses, it is with those other parties I advise you to deal. Never transact business with the go between, if you can with the princ.i.p.al. Remember, the two young men are the persons to arrange with after all. They must be poor, and therefore easily dealt with. For, if poor, they will think a bird in the hand worth two in the bush of a lawsuit.
"If, through Mr. Spencer, you can learn anything of either of the young men, do so; and try and open some channel, through which you can always establish a communication with them, if necessary. Perhaps, by learning their early history, you may learn something to put them into your power.
"I have had a twinge of the gout this morning, and am likely, I fear, to be laid up for some weeks.
"Yours truly,
"LILBURNE.
"P.S.--Sharp has just been here. He followed the man who calls himself "Captain Smith" to a house in Lambeth, where he lodges, and from which he did not stir till midnight, when Sharp ceased his watch. On renewing it this morning, he found that the captain had gone off, to what place Sharp has not yet discovered.
"Burn this immediately."
From ROBERT BEAUFORT, ESQ., M.P., to the LORD LILBURNE.
"DEAR, LILBURNE,--Accept my warmest thanks for your kindness; you have done admirably, and I do not see that I have anything further to apprehend. I suspect that it was an entire fabrication on that man"s part, and your firmness has foiled his wicked designs. Only think, I have discovered--I am sure of it--one of the Mortons; and he, too, though the younger, yet, in all probability, the sole pretender the fellow could set up. You remember that the child Sidney had disappeared mysteriously,--you remember also, how much that Mr. Spencer had interested himself in finding out the same Sidney. Well,--this gentleman at the Lakes is, as we suspected, the identical Mr. Spencer, and his soi-disant nephew, Camilla"s suitor, is a.s.suredly no other than the lost Sidney. The moment I saw the young man I recognised him, for he is very little altered, and has a great look of his mother into the bargain.
Concealing my more than suspicions, I, however, took care to sound Mr.
Spencer (a very poor soul), and his manner was so embarra.s.sed as to leave no doubt of the matter; but in asking him what he had heard of the brothers, I had the satisfaction of learning that, in all human probability, the elder is dead: of this Mr. Spencer seems convinced.
I also a.s.sured myself that neither Spencer nor the young man had the remotest connection with our Captain Smith, nor any idea of litigation.
This is very satisfactory, you will allow. And now, I hope you will approve of what I have done. I find that young Morton, or Spencer, as he is called, is desperately enamoured of Camilla; he seems a meek, well-conditioned, amiable young man; writes poetry;--in short, rather weak than otherwise. I have demanded a year"s delay, to allow mutual trial and reflection. This gives us the channel for constant information which you advise me to establish, and I shall have the opportunity to learn if the impostor makes any communication to them, or if there be any news of the brother. If by any trick or chicanery (for I will never believe that there was a marriage) a lawsuit that might be critical or hazardous can be cooked up, I can, I am sure, make such terms with Sidney, through his love for my daughter, as would effectively and permanently secure me from all further trouble and machinations in regard to my property. And if, during the year, we convince ourselves that, after all, there is not a leg of law for any claimant to stand on, I may be guided by other circ.u.mstances how far I shall finally accept or reject the suit. That must depend on any other views we may then form for Camilla; and I shall not allow a hint of such an engagement to get abroad. At the worst, as Mr. Spencer"s heir, it is not so very bad a match, seeing that they dispense with all marriage portion, &c.--a proof how easily they can be managed. I have not let Mr. Spencer see that I have discovered his secret--I can do that or not, according to circ.u.mstances hereafter; neither have I said anything of my discovery to Mrs. B., or Camilla. At present, "Least said soonest mended." I heard from Arthur to-day. He is on his road home, and we hasten to town, sooner than we expected, to meet him. He complains still of his health.
We shall all go down to Beaufort Court. I write this at night, the pretended uncle and sham nephew having just gone. But though we start to-morrow, you will get this a day or two before we arrive, as Mrs.
Beaufort"s health renders short stages necessary. I really do hope that Arthur, also, will not be an invalid, poor fellow! one in a family is quite enough; and I find Mrs. Beaufort"s delicacy very inconvenient, especially in moving about and in keeping up one"s county connexions. A young man"s health, however, is soon restored. I am very sorry to hear of your gout, except that it carries off all other complaints. I am very well, thank Heaven; indeed, my health has been much better of late years: Beaufort Court agrees with me so well! The more I reflect, the more I am astonished at the monstrous and wicked impudence of that fellow--to defraud a man out of his own property! You are quite right,--certainly a conspiracy.
"Yours truly, "R. B."
"P. S.--I shall keep a constant eye on the Spencers.
"Burn this immediately."
After he had written and sealed this letter, Mr. Beaufort went to bed and slept soundly.
And the next day that place was desolate, and the board on the lawn announced that it was again to be let. But thither daily, in rain or sunshine, came the solitary lover, as a bird that seeks its young in the deserted nest:--Again and again he haunted the spot where he had strayed with the lost one,--and again and again murmured his pa.s.sionate vows beneath the fast-fading limes. Are those vows destined to be ratified or annulled? Will the absent forget, or the lingerer be consoled? Had the characters of that young romance been lightly stamped on the fancy where once obliterated they are erased for ever,--or were they graven deep in those tablets where the writing, even when invisible, exists still, and revives, sweet letter by letter, when the light and the warmth borrowed from the One Bright Presence are applied to the faithful record? There is but one Wizard to disclose that secret, as all others,--the old Grave-digger, whose Churchyard is the Earth,--whose trade is to find burial-places for Pa.s.sions that seemed immortal,--disinterring the ashes of some long-crumbling Memory--to hollow out the dark bed of some new-perished Hope:--He who determines all things, and prophesies none,--for his oracles are uncomprehended till the doom is sealed--He who in the bloom of the fairest affection detects the hectic that consumes it, and while the hymn rings at the altar, marks with his joyless eye the grave for the bridal vow.--Wherever is the sepulchre, there is thy temple, O melancholy Time!
BOOK V.
CHAPTER I.
"Per ambages et ministeria deorum."--PETRONTUS.
[Through the mysteries and ministerings of the G.o.ds.]
Mr. Roger Morton was behind his counter one drizzling, melancholy day.
Mr. Roger Morton, alderman, and twice mayor of his native town, was a thriving man. He had grown portly and corpulent. The nightly potations of brandy and water, continued year after year with mechanical perseverance, had deepened the roses on his cheek. Mr. Roger Morton was never intoxicated--he "only made himself comfortable." His const.i.tution was strong; but, somehow or other, his digestion was not as good as it might be. He was certain that something or other disagreed with him.
He left off the joint one day--the pudding another. Now he avoided vegetables as poison--and now he submitted with a sigh to the doctor"s interdict of his cigar. Mr. Roger Morton never thought of leaving off the brandy and water: and he would have resented as the height of impertinent insinuation any hint upon that score to a man of so sober and respectable a character.
Mr. Roger Morton was seated--for the last four years, ever since his second mayoralty, he had arrogated to himself the dignity of a chair. He received rather than served his customers. The latter task was left to two of his sons. For Tom, after much cogitation, the profession of an apothecary had been selected. Mrs. Morton observed, that it was a genteel business, and Tom had always been a likely lad. And Mr. Roger considered that it would be a great comfort and a great saving to have his medical adviser in his own son.
The other two sons and the various attendants of the shop were plying the profitable trade, as customer after customer, with umbrellas and in pattens, dropped into the tempting shelter--when a man, meanly dressed, and who was somewhat past middle age, with a careworn, hungry face, entered timidly. He waited in patience by the crowded counter, elbowed by sharp-boned and eager spinsters--and how sharp the elbows of spinsters are, no man can tell who has not forced his unwelcome way through the agitated groups in a linendraper"s shop!--the man, I say, waited patiently and sadly, till the smallest of the s...o...b..ys turned from a lady, who, after much sorting and shading, had finally decided on two yards of lilac-coloured penny riband, and asked, in an insinuating professional tone,--
"What shall I show you, sir?"
"I wish to speak to Mr. Morton. Which is he?"
"Mr. Morton is engaged, sir. I can give you what you want."
"No--it is a matter of business--important business." The boy eyed the napless and dripping hat, the gloveless hands, and the rusty neckcloth of the speaker; and said, as he pa.s.sed his fingers through a profusion of light curls "Mr. Morton don"t attend much to business himself now; but that"s he. Any cravats, sir?"
The man made no answer, but moved where, near the window, and chatting with the banker of the town (as the banker tried on a pair of beaver gloves), sat still--after due apology for sitting--Mr. Roger Morton.
The alderman lowered his spectacles as he glanced grimly at the lean apparition that shaded the spruce banker, and said,--
"Do you want me, friend?"
"Yes, sir, if you please;" and the man took off his shabby hat, and bowed low.
"Well, speak out. No begging pet.i.tion, I hope?"
"No, sir! Your nephews--"
The banker turned round, and in his turn eyed the newcomer. The linendraper started back.
"Nephews!" he repeated, with a bewildered look. "What does the man mean?
Wait a bit."
"Oh, I"ve done!" said the banker, smiling. "I am glad to find we agree so well upon this question: I knew we should. Our member will never suit us if he goes on in this way. Trade must take care of itself. Good day to You!"
"Nephews!" repeated Mr. Morton, rising, and beckoning to the man to follow him into the back parlour, where Mrs. Morton sat casting up the washing bills.
"Now," said the husband, closing the door, "what do you mean, my good fellow?"
"Sir, what I wish to ask you is-if you can tell me what has become of--of the young Beau--, that is, of your sister"s sons. I understand there were two--and I am told that--that they are both dead. Is it so?"