"Where I shall meet with much the same degree of honesty, virtue, wisdom, and all that, as is to be found in certain other a.s.semblies."
CHAPTER VIII
_Bad company painful, as well as dangerous: A short note, exciting much expectation: A question that shocks and surprises: Clarke and Olivia, or the overflowing of a full and friendly heart: Various mistakes rectified: The reading of the letter and the emotions it produces: Resolutions worthy of virtuous love_
I left the tavern in no very pleasant temper of mind: impatient that I should be unable to convince, and reform, a man of such extraordinary acuteness as Belmont: vexed that he, on the contrary, should persuade himself that he was my master; and should actually irritate me to a dangerous excess of vanity: and disgusted that vice and virtue should be so confused, in the minds of men, as to render their boundaries almost undiscoverable.
Such I mean was the impression that Belmont had left upon my mind, by repeating the stale but dangerous maxim that--men are vicious by nature; and, therefore, that to profit by their vices is no more than just.
When I arrived at my lodgings, which were now in Albemarle-street, for I had changed them, I found the following note from Miss Wilmot.
"Come to me immediately. I have something to tell you which you little expect."
Belmont and my chagrin were forgotten in an instant; and away I hurried, brim full of agitation, conjecture, and impatience.
I found Miss Wilmot alone; and her first words were--"Oh, Mr. Trevor!
you are a happy man!"
I stood panting, or rather gasping, with hope; and made no reply. She thus continued.
"Miss Mowbray has been here."
"Good heavens!"
"She has acted like herself. I know not how I shall tell you the story, so as to do her justice."
"For the love of G.o.d, proceed!"
"As nearly as I can recollect her words, she began in this manner.
""I cannot tell, my dear friend," addressing herself to me, "what you will think of my conduct. At one moment I suspect it to be wrong; and at the next blame myself for not having taken my present step sooner.
I have surely been grossly misled. This indeed I have long suspected; and it cannot but be my duty to enquire. Have you lately seen Mr.
Trevor?"
""I never fail to see him every day. I have a letter from him, for you; which he has disdained to take any clandestine means of conveying to you. Here it is."
""Before I date think about his letter, answer me one question. Is he a murderer?"
""A murderer! In the name of G.o.d! what can induce you to make such an enquiry?"
""I have been a.s.sured that he has caused the death of two men: one of whom he killed himself."
""Where? When? How?"
""At Bath. By delivering one over to the fury of the mob; and by afterward provoking, insulting, and fighting with the other."
""Heavens and earth! It is false! wickedly false!"
""Nay but do you know his story?"
""Perfectly. I have heard it, not only from himself, but, from the man whom I suppose you have been told he has murdered."
""What man?"
""Nay you shall hear and see. You shall have the whole history from the person"s own mouth."
""Is he alive? Is he in London?"
""I will send for him. He will be here in a few minutes. You will then hear what this man has to say. He almost adores Mr. Trevor."
"I immediately dispatched Mary for Mr. Clarke, who works not far off, as I suppose you know, and who came running the moment he heard that the lady you are in love with enquired for him.
"Mary informs me that his heart leaped to his eyes (it was her own phrase) when he was told she wanted to question him concerning you; that he sprang up, clapped his hands, and exclaimed--"I am glad of it!
I am glad of it! The time is come! All shall be known! He shall be righted! I will take care of that! He shall be righted!"
"He entered the room breathless; and, the moment he saw Miss Mowbray, he could not forbear to gaze at her: though bashfulness made him continually turn his eyes away.
"She addressed him, with that mildness of manner which is so winning in her, and said--"I have taken the liberty, sir, to send for you; to ask a few questions."
"He replied, with a burst of zeal--"I am glad of it, madam! I am glad of it, from my heart and soul! I wish you knew all I could tell you about Mr. Trevor: but it is quite _un_possible that I should remember it one half. Only this I will say, and dare the best man in England to deny it, there is not such another brave and kind-hearted gentleman walks the earth. I have had proof enough of it. He knows, for all he is a gentleman, ay and a true gentleman too, for he has parts, and learning, and a Christian soul, which does not teach him to scorn and make a scoff of the poor: he knows that a man is a man; even though he should only happen to be a poor carpenter, like myself. G.o.d in heaven bless him! say I."
"The enthusiasm of your generous humble friend overpowered Miss Mowbray; she burst into tears, and hid her face. Her pa.s.sion was catching, and I followed her example. Clarke continued.
""On that night that he had the good hap to save your life, and the life of that old cankered lady, which as I find from all that pa.s.sed she must be, though he talks of her too kindly by half, why the stopping of the frightened horses, just do you see in the jaws of destruction, and propping the coach was all his doing. He knew better what he was about than the coachman himself. And then, if you had seen him, as I did, after all was over! I thought I had loved my Sally dearly. And so I do! But what am I? I thought too I durst have stood up to the boldest man that ever stood on shoe leather! And perhaps I durst: but I find I am nothing in any case to _he_. For which he never despises me: but insists upon it that I am as good a man as he, in any way. And as for you, madam, he would jump into burning lakes rather than a hair of your head should be singed. I know it: for I have seen it."
""I know it too," said Miss Mowbray; sobbing. Then, with an effort to quell her pa.s.sion, she asked in a firmer tone: "Pray, sir, tell me: did not you work at Bath?"
""Yes, madam: the greatest part of my life."
""You appear to know of a battle, that Mr. Trevor fought?"
""Yes, yes, madam. I know it pretty well. I shall remember it as long as I live, for more reasons than one."
""Was there a man killed?"
""No, madam: G.o.d be praised! I should have died in my sins, unprepared and wicked as I was: being possessed with pa.s.sion. He, G.o.d bless him!
for all he is a gentleman, begged my pardon like a man; and held out his hand, and prayed over and over that I would forget and forgive.
But, as I tell you, I was possessed. I could be nothing else: because, in the way of hard fighting, I despised a gentleman. But he gave me to know better, as obstinate as I was: for, even after he had beaten me once, why, he begged and prayed, as he had done at first, to make it all up. But, as I said before, the Evil One had taken hold of me; and I refused to give in, till I was carried as dead as a stock off of the place."
""Then it was you that was reported to have been killed?"
""Why, yes, madam: because it could be n.o.body else."
""Nay, but was not there a poor man ducked to death?"