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+Project Gutenberg EBook, Night and Morning by E. B. Lytton, Vol. 4
+#193 in our series by Edward Bulwer Lytton
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+Title: Night and Morning, Volume 4
+
+Author: Edward Bulwer Lytton
+
+Release Date: January 2006  [EBook #9753]
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+                           THE WORKS
+
+                              OF
+
+                     EDWARD BULWER LYTTON
+
+                         (LORD LYTTON)
+
+
+                       NIGHT AND MORNING
+
+                            Book IV
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+          "O that sweet gleam of sunshine on the lake!"
+          WILSON'S _City of the Plague_
+
+If, reader, you have ever looked through a solar microscope at the
+monsters in a drop of water, perhaps you have wondered to yourself how
+things so terrible have been hitherto unknown to you--you have felt a
+loathing at the limpid element you hitherto deemed so pure--you have half
+fancied that you would cease to be a water-drinker; yet, the next day you
+have forgotten the grim life that started before you, with its countless
+shapes, in that teeming globule; and, if so tempted by your thirst, you
+have not shrunk from the lying crystal, although myriads of the horrible
+Unseen are mangling, devouring, gorging each other in the liquid you so
+tranquilly imbibe; so is it with that ancestral and master element called
+Life.  Lapped in your sleek comforts, and lolling on the sofa of your
+patent conscience--when, perhaps for the first time, you look through the
+glass of science upon one ghastly globule in the waters that heave
+around, that fill up, with their succulence, the pores of earth, that
+moisten every atom subject to your eyes or handled by your touch--you are
+startled and dismayed; you say, mentally, "Can such things be?  I never
+dreamed of this before!  I thought what was invisible to me was non-
+existent in itself--I will remember this dread experiment."  The next day
+the experiment is forgotten.--The Chemist may purify the Globule--can
+Science make pure the World?
+
+Turn we now to the pleasant surface, seen in the whole, broad and fair to
+the common eye.  Who would judge well of God's great designs, if he could
+look on no drop pendent from the rose-tree, or sparkling in the sun,
+without the help of his solar microscope?
+
+It is ten years after the night on which William Gawtrey perished:--I
+transport you, reader, to the fairest scenes in England,--scenes
+consecrated by the only true pastoral poetry we have known to
+Contemplation and Repose.
+
+Autumn had begun to tinge the foliage on the banks of Winandermere.  It
+had been a summer of unusual warmth and beauty; and if that year you had
+visited the English lakes, you might, from time to time, amidst the
+groups of happy idlers you encountered, have singled out two persons for
+interest, or, perhaps, for envy.  Two who might have seemed to you in
+peculiar harmony with those serene and soft retreats, both young--both
+beautiful.  Lovers you would have guessed them to be; but such lovers as
+Fletcher might have placed under the care of his "Holy Shepherdess"--
+forms that might have reclined by
+
+          "The virtuous well, about whose flowery banks
+          The nimble-footed fairies dance their rounds
+          By the pale moonshine."
+
+For in the love of those persons there seemed a purity and innocence that
+suited well their youth and the character of their beauty.  Perhaps,
+indeed, on the girl's side, love sprung rather from those affections
+which the spring of life throws upward to the surface, as the spring of
+earth does its flowers, than from that concentrated and deep absorption
+of self in self, which alone promises endurance and devotion, and of
+which first love, or rather the first fancy, is often less susceptible
+than that which grows out of the more thoughtful fondness of maturer
+years.  Yet he, the lover, was of so rare and singular a beauty, that he
+might well seem calculated to awake, to the utmost, the love which wins
+the heart through the eyes.
+
+But to begin at the beginning.  A lady of fashion had, in the autumn
+previous to the year in which our narrative re-opens, taken, with her
+daughter, a girl then of about eighteen, the tour of the English lakes.
+Charmed by the beauty of Winandermere, and finding one of the most
+commodious villas on its banks to be let, they had remained there all the
+winter.  In the early spring a severe illness had seized the elder lady,
+and finding herself, as she slowly recovered, unfit for the gaieties of a
+London season, nor unwilling, perhaps,--for she had been a beauty in her
+day--to postpone for another year the debut of her daughter, she had
+continued her sojourn, with short intervals of absence, for a whole year.
+Her husband, a busy man of the world, with occupation in London, and fine
+estates in the country, joined them only occasionally, glad to escape the
+still beauty of landscapes which brought him no rental, and therefore
+afforded no charm to his eye.
+
+In the first month of their arrival at Winandermere, the mother and
+daughter had made an eventful acquaintance in the following manner.
+
+One evening, as they were walking on their lawn, which sloped to the
+lake, they heard the sound of a flute, played with a skill so exquisite
+as to draw them, surprised and spellbound, to the banks.  The musician
+was a young man, in a boat, which he had moored beneath the trees of
+their demesne.  He was alone, or, rather, he had one companion, in a
+large Newfoundland dog, that sat watchful at the helm of the boat, and
+appeared to enjoy the music as much as his master.  As the ladies
+approached the spot, the dog growled, and the young man ceased, though
+without seeing the fair causes of his companion's displeasure.  The sun,
+then setting, shone full on his countenance as he looked round; and that
+countenance was one that might have haunted the nymphs of Delos; the face
+of Apollo, not as the hero, but the shepherd--not of the bow, but of the
+lute--not the Python-slayer, but the young dreamer by shady places--he
+whom the sculptor has portrayed leaning idly against the tree--the boy-
+god whose home is yet on earth, and to whom the Oracle and the Spheres
+are still unknown.
+
+At that moment the dog leaped from the boat, and the elder lady uttered a
+faint cry of alarm, which, directing the attention of the musician,
+brought him also ashore.  He called off his dog, and apologised, with a
+not ungraceful mixture of diffidence and ease, for his intrusion.  He was
+not aware the place was inhabited--it was a favourite haunt of his--he
+lived near.  The elder lady was pleased with his address, and struck with
+his appearance.  There was, indeed, in his manner that indefinable charm,
+which is more attractive than mere personal appearance, and which can
+never be imitated or acquired.  They parted, however, without
+establishing any formal acquaintance.  A few days after, they met at
+dinner at a neighbouring house, and were introduced by name.  That of the
+young man seemed strange to the ladies; not so theirs to him.  He turned
+pale when he heard it, and remained silent and aloof the rest of the
+evening.  They met again and often; and for some weeks--nay, even for
+months--he appeared to avoid, as much as possible, the acquaintance so
+auspiciously begun; but, by little and little, the beauty of the younger
+lady seemed to gain ground on his diffidence or repugnance.  Excursions
+among the neighbouring mountains threw them together, and at last he
+fairly surrendered himself to the charm he had at first determined to
+resist.
+
+This young man lived on the opposite side of the lake, in a quiet
+household, of which he was the idol.  His life had been one of almost
+monastic purity and repose; his tastes were accomplished, his character
+seemed soft and gentle; but beneath that calm exterior, flashes of
+passion--the nature of the poet, ardent and sensitive--would break forth
+at times.  He had scarcely ever, since his earliest childhood, quitted
+those retreats; he knew nothing of the world, except in books--books of
+poetry and romance.  Those with whom he lived--his relations, an old
+bachelor, and the cold bachelor's sisters, old maids--seemed equally
+innocent and inexperienced.  It was a family whom the rich respected and
+the poor loved--inoffensive, charitable, and well off.  To whatever their
+easy fortune might be, he appeared the heir.  The name of this young man
+was Charles Spencer; the ladies were Mrs. Beaufort, and Camilla her
+daughter.
+
+Mrs. Beaufort, though a shrewd woman, did not at first perceive any
+danger in the growing intimacy between Camilla and the younger Spencer.
+Her daughter was not her favourite--not the object of her one thought or
+ambition.  Her whole heart and soul were wrapped in her son Arthur, who
+lived principally abroad.  Clever enough to be considered capable, when
+he pleased, of achieving distinction, good-looking enough to be thought
+handsome by all who were on the _qui vive_ for an advantageous match,
+good-natured enough to be popular with the society in which he lived,
+scattering to and fro money without limit,--Arthur Beaufort, at the age
+of thirty, had established one of those brilliant and evanescent
+reputations, which, for a few years, reward the ambition of the fine
+gentleman.  It was precisely the reputation that the mother could
+appreciate, and which even the more saving father secretly admired,
+while, ever respectable in phrase, Mr. Robert Beaufort seemed openly to
+regret it.  This son was, I say, everything to them; they cared little,
+in comparison, for their daughter.  How could a daughter keep up the
+proud name of Beaufort?  However well she might marry, it was another
+house, not theirs, which her graces and beauty would adorn.  Moreover,
+the better she might marry the greater her dowry would naturally be,--the
+dowry, to go out of the family!  And Arthur, poor fellow!  was so
+extravagant, that really he would want every sixpence.  Such was the
+reasoning of the father.  The mother reasoned less upon the matter.  Mrs.
+Beaufort, faded and meagre, in blonde and cashmere, was jealous of the
+charms of her daughter; and she herself, growing sentimental and
+lachrymose as she advanced in life, as silly women often do, had
+convinced herself that Camilla was a girl of no feeling.
+
+Miss Beaufort was, indeed, of a character singularly calm and placid; it
+was the character that charms men in proportion, perhaps, to their own
+strength and passion.  She had been rigidly brought up--her affections
+had been very early chilled and subdued; they moved, therefore, now, with
+ease, in the serene path of her duties.  She held her parents, especially
+her father, in reverential fear, and never dreamed of the possibility of
+resisting one of their wishes, much less their commands.  Pious, kind,
+gentle, of a fine and never-ruffled temper, Camilla, an admirable
+daughter, was likely to make no less admirable a wife; you might depend
+on her principles, if ever you could doubt her affection.  Few girls were
+more calculated to inspire love.  You would scarcely wonder at any folly,
+any madness, which even a wise man might commit for her sake.  This did
+not depend on her beauty alone, though she was extremely lovely rather
+than handsome, and of that style of loveliness which is universally
+fascinating: the figure, especially as to the arms, throat, and bust, was
+exquisite; the mouth dimpled; the teeth dazzling; the eyes of that velvet
+softness which to look on is to love.  But her charm was in a certain
+prettiness of manner, an exceeding innocence, mixed with the most
+captivating, because unconscious, coquetry.  With all this, there was a
+freshness, a joy, a virgin and bewitching candour in her voice, her
+laugh--you might almost say in her very movements.  Such was Camilla
+Beaufort at that age.  Such she seemed to others.  To her parents she was
+only a great girl rather in the way.  To Mrs. Beaufort a rival, to Mr.
+Beaufort an encumbrance on the property.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+          *  *  *  "The moon
+          Saddening the solemn night, yet with that sadness
+          Mingling the breath of undisturbed Peace."
+                               WILSON: _City of the Plague_
+
+          *  *  *  "Tell me his fate.
+          Say that he lives, or say that he is dead
+          But tell me--tell me!
+          * * * * * *
+          I see him not--some cloud envelopes him."--Ibid.
+
+One day (nearly a year after their first introduction) as with a party of
+friends Camilla and Charles Spencer were riding through those wild and
+romantic scenes which lie between the sunny Winandermere and the dark and
+sullen Wastwater, their conversation fell on topics more personal than it
+had hitherto done, for as yet, if they felt love, they had never spoken
+of it.
+
+The narrowness of the path allowed only two to ride abreast, and the two
+to whom I confine my description were the last of the little band.
+
+"How I wish Arthur were here!"  said Camilla; "I am sure you would like
+him."
+
+"Are you?  He lives much in the world--the world of which I know nothing.
+Are we then characters to suit each other?"
+
+"He is the kindest--the best of human beings!"  said Camilla, rather
+evasively, but with more warmth than usually dwelt in her soft and low
+voice.
+
+"Is he so kind?"  returned Spencer, musingly.  "Well, it may be so.  And
+who would not be kind to you?  Ah! it is a beautiful connexion that of
+brother and sister--I never had a sister!"
+
+"Have you then a brother?"  asked Camilla, in some surprise, and turning
+her ingenuous eyes full on her companion.
+
+Spencer's colour rose--rose to his temples: his voice trembled as he
+answered, "No;--no brother!"  then, speaking in a rapid and hurried tone,
+he continued, "My life has been a strange and lonely one.  I am an
+orphan.  I have mixed with few of my own age: my boyhood and youth have
+been spent in these scenes; my education such as Nature and books could
+bestow, with scarcely any guide or tutor save my guardian--the dear old
+man!  Thus the world, the stir of cities, ambition, enterprise,--all seem
+to me as things belonging to a distant land to which I shall never
+wander.  Yet I have had my dreams, Miss Beaufort; dreams of which these
+solitudes still form a part--but solitudes not unshared.  And lately I
+have thought that those dreams might be prophetic.  And you--do you love
+the world?"
+
+"I, like you, have scarcely tried it," said Camilla, with a sweet laugh.
+"but I love the country better,--oh! far better than what little I have
+seen of towns.  But for you," she continued with a charming hesitation,
+"a man is so different from us,--for you to shrink from the world--you,
+so young and with talents too--nay, it is true!--it seems to me strange."
+
+"It may be so, but I cannot tell you what feelings of dread--what vague
+forebodings of terror seize me if I carry my thoughts beyond these
+retreats.  Perhaps my good guardian--"
+
+"Your uncle?"  interrupted Camilla.
+
+"Ay, my uncle--may have contributed to engender feelings, as you say,
+strange at my age; but still--"
+
+"Still what!"
+
+"My earlier childhood," continued Spencer, breathing hard and turning
+pale, "was not spent in the happy home I have now; it was passed in a
+premature ordeal of suffering and pain.  Its recollections have left a
+dark shadow on my mind, and under that shadow lies every thought that
+points towards the troublous and labouring career of other men.  But," he
+resumed after a pause, and in a deep, earnest, almost solemn voice,--"
+but after all, is this cowardice or wisdom?  I find no monotony--no
+tedium in this quiet life.  Is there not a certain morality--a certain
+religion in the spirit of a secluded and country existence?  In it we do
+not know the evil passions which ambition and strife are said to arouse.
+I never feel jealous or envious of other men; I never know what it is to
+hate; my boat, my horse, our garden, music, books, and, if I may dare to
+say so, the solemn gladness that comes from the hopes of another life,--
+these fill up every hour with thoughts and pursuits, peaceful, happy, and
+without a cloud, till of late, when--when--"
+
+"When what?" said Camilla, innocently.
+
+"When I have longed, but did not dare to ask another, if to share such a
+lot would content her!"
+
+He bent, as he spoke, his soft blue eyes full upon the blushing face of
+her whom he addressed, and Camilla half smiled and half sighed:
+
+"Our companions are far before us," said she, turning away her face, "and
+see, the road is now smooth."  She quickened her horse's pace as she said
+this; and Spencer, too new to women to interpret favourably her evasion
+of his words and looks, fell into a profound silence which lasted during
+the rest of their excursion.
+
+As towards the decline of day he bent his solitary way home, emotions and
+passions to which his life had hitherto been a stranger, and which, alas!
+he had vainly imagined a life so tranquil would everlastingly restrain,
+swelled his heart.
+
+"She does not love me," he muttered, half aloud; "she will leave me, and
+what then will all the beauty of the landscape seem in my eyes?  And how
+dare I look up to her?  Even if her cold, vain mother--her father, the
+man, they say, of forms and scruples, were to consent, would they not
+question closely of my true birth and origin?  And if the one blot were
+overlooked, is there no other?  His early habits and vices, his?--a
+brother's--his unknown career terminating at any day, perhaps, in shame,
+in crime, in exposure, in the gibbet,--will they overlook this?"  As he
+spoke, he groaned aloud, and, as if impatient to escape himself, spurred
+on his horse and rested not till he reached the belt of trim and sober
+evergreens that surrounded his hitherto happy home.
+
+Leaving his horse to find its way to the stables, the young man passed
+through rooms, which he found deserted, to the lawn on the other side,
+which sloped to the smooth waters of the lake.
+
+Here, seated under the one large tree that formed the pride of the lawn,
+over which it cast its shadow broad and far, he perceived his guardian
+poring idly over an oft-read book, one of those books of which literary
+dreamers are apt to grow fanatically fond--books by the old English
+writers, full of phrases and conceits half quaint and half sublime,
+interspersed with praises of the country, imbued with a poetical rather
+than orthodox religion, and adorned with a strange mixture of monastic
+learning and aphorisms collected from the weary experience of actual
+life.
+
+To the left, by a greenhouse, built between the house and the lake, might
+be seen the white dress and lean form of the eldest spinster sister, to
+whom the care of the flowers--for she had been early crossed in love--was
+consigned; at a little distance from her, the other two were seated at
+work, and conversing in whispers, not to disturb their studious brother,
+no doubt upon the nephew, who was their all in all.  It was the calmest
+hour of eve, and the quiet of the several forms, their simple and
+harmless occupations--if occupations they might be called--the breathless
+foliage rich in the depth of summer; behind, the old-fashioned house,
+unpretending, not mean, its open doors and windows giving glimpses of the
+comfortable repose within; before, the lake, without a ripple and
+catching the gleam of the sunset clouds,--all made a picture of that
+complete tranquillity and stillness, which sometimes soothes and
+sometimes saddens us, according as we are in the temper to woo CONTENT.
+
+The young man glided to his guardian and touched his shoulder,--"Sir, may
+I speak to you?--Hush! they need not see us now! it is only you I would
+speak with."
+
+The elder Spencer rose; and, with his book still in his hand, moved side
+by side with his nephew under the shadow of the tree and towards a walk
+to the right, which led for a short distance along the margin of the
+lake, backed by the interlaced boughs of a thick copse.
+
+"Sir!" said the young man, speaking first, and with a visible effort,
+"your cautions have been in vain!  I love this girl--this daughter of the
+haughty Beauforts!  I love her--better than life I love her!"
+
+"My poor boy," said the uncle tenderly, and with a simple fondness
+passing his arm over the speaker's shoulder, "do not think I can chide
+you--I know what it is to love in vain!"
+
+"In vain!--but why in vain?"  exclaimed the younger Spencer, with a
+vehemence that had in it something of both agony and fierceness.  "She
+may love me--she shall love me!" and almost for the first time in his
+life, the proud consciousness of his rare gifts of person spoke in his
+kindled eye and dilated stature.  "Do they not say that Nature has been
+favourable to me?--What rival have I here?--Is she not young?--And
+(sinking his voice till it almost breathed like music) is not love
+contagious?"
+
+"I do not doubt that she may love you--who would not?--but--but--the
+parents, will they ever consent?"  "Nay!" answered the lover, as with
+that inconsistency common to passion, he now argued stubbornly against
+those fears in another to which he had just before yielded in himself,--
+"Nay!--after all, am I not of their own blood?--Do I not come from the
+elder branch?--Was I not reared in equal luxury and with higher hopes?--
+And my mother--my poor mother--did she not to the last maintain our
+birthright--her own honour?--Has not accident or law unjustly stripped us
+of our true station?--Is it not for us to forgive spoliation?--Am I not,
+in fact, the person who descends, who forgets the wrongs of the dead--the
+heritage of the living?"
+
+The young man had never yet assumed this tone--had never yet shown that
+he looked back to the history connected with his birth with the feelings
+of resentment and the remembrance of wrong.  It was a tone contrary to
+his habitual calm and contentment--it struck forcibly on his listener--
+and the elder Spencer was silent for some moments before he replied, "If
+you feel thus (and it is natural), you have yet stronger reason to
+struggle against this unhappy affection."
+
+"I have been conscious of that, sir," replied the young man, mournfully.
+"I have struggled!--and I say again it is in vain!  I turn, then, to face
+the obstacles!  My birth--let us suppose that the Beauforts overlook it.
+Did you not tell me that Mr. Beaufort wrote to inform you of the abrupt
+and intemperate visit of my brother--of his determination never to
+forgive it?  I think I remember something of this years ago."
+
+"It is true!" said the guardian; "and the conduct of that brother is, in
+fact, the true cause why you never ought to reassume your proper name!--
+never to divulge it, even to the family with whom you connect yourself by
+marriage; but, above all, to the Beauforts, who for that cause, if that
+cause alone, would reject your suit."
+
+The young man groaned--placed one hand before his eyes, and with the
+other grasped his guardian's arm convulsively, as if to check him from
+proceeding farther; but the good man, not divining his meaning, and
+absorbed in his subject, went on, irritating the wound he had touched.
+
+"Reflect!--your brother in boyhood--in the dying hours of his mother,
+scarcely saved from the crime of a thief, flying from a friendly pursuit
+with a notorious reprobate; afterwards implicated in some discreditable
+transaction about a horse, rejecting all--every hand that could save him,
+clinging by choice to the lowest companions and the meanest-habits,
+disappearing from the country, and last seen, ten years ago--the beard
+not yet on his chin--with that same reprobate of whom I have spoken, in
+Paris; a day or so only before his companion, a coiner--a murderer--fell
+by the hands of the police!  You remember that when, in your seventeenth
+year, you evinced some desire to retake your name--nay, even to re-find
+that guilty brother--I placed before you, as a, sad, and terrible duty,
+the newspaper that contained the particulars of the death and the former
+adventures of that wretched accomplice, the notorious Gawtrey.  And,--
+telling you that Mr. Beaufort had long since written to inform me that
+his own son and Lord Lilburne had seen your brother in company with the
+miscreant just before his fate--nay, was, in all probability, the very
+youth described in the account as found in his chamber and escaping the
+pursuit--I asked you if you would now venture to leave that disguise--
+that shelter under which you would for ever be safe from the opprobrium
+of the world--from the shame that, sooner or later, your brother must
+bring upon your name!"
+
+"It is true--it is true!"  said the pretended nephew, in a tone of great
+anguish, and with trembling lips which the blood had forsaken.  "Horrible
+to look either to his past or his future!  But--but--we have heard of him
+no more--no one ever has learned his fate.  Perhaps--perhaps" (and he
+seemed to breathe more freely)--"my brother is no more!"
+
+And poor Catherine--and poor Philip---had it come to this?  Did the one
+brother feel a sentiment of release, of joy, in conjecturing the death--
+perhaps the death of violence and shame--of his fellow-orphan?  Mr.
+Spencer shook his head doubtingly, but made no reply.  The young man
+sighed heavily, and strode on for several paces in advance of his
+protector, then, turning back, he laid his hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Sir," he said in a low voice and with downcast eyes, you are right: this
+disguise--this false name--must be for ever borne!  Why need the
+Beauforts, then, ever know who and what I am?  Why not as your nephew--
+nephew to one so respected and exemplary--proffer my claims and plead my
+cause?"
+
+"They are proud--so it is said--and worldly;--you know my family was in
+trade--still--but--" and here Mr. Spencer broke off from a tone of doubt
+into that of despondency, "but, recollect, though Mrs. Beaufort may not
+remember the circumstance, both her husband and her son have seen me--
+have known my name.  Will they not suspect, when once introduced to you,
+the stratagem that has been adopted?--Nay, has it not been from that very
+fear that you have wished me to shun the acquaintance of the family?
+Both Mr. Beaufort and Arthur saw you in childhood, and their suspicion
+once aroused, they may recognise you at once; your features are
+developed, but not altogether changed.  Come, come!--my adopted, my dear
+son, shake off this fantasy betimes: let us change the scene: I will
+travel with you--read with you--go where--"
+
+"Sir--sir!" exclaimed the lover, smiting his breast, "you are ever kind,
+compassionate, generous; but do not--do not rob me of hope.  I have
+never--thanks to you--felt, save in a momentary dejection, the curse of
+my birth.  Now how heavily it falls!  Where shall I look for comfort?"
+
+As he spoke, the sound of a bell broke over the translucent air and the
+slumbering lake: it was the bell that every eve and morn summoned that
+innocent and pious family to prayer.  The old man's face changed as he
+heard it--changed from its customary indolent, absent, listless aspect,
+into an expression of dignity, even of animation.
+
+"Hark!" he said, pointing upwards; "Hark! it chides you.  Who shall say,
+'Where shall I look for comfort' while God is in the heavens?"
+
+The young man, habituated to the faith and observance of religion, till
+they had pervaded his whole nature, bowed his head in rebuke; a few tears
+stole from his eyes.
+
+"You are right, father--," he said tenderly, giving emphasis to the
+deserved and endearing name.  "I am comforted already!"
+
+So, side by side, silently and noiselessly, the young and the old man
+glided back to the house.  When they gained the quiet room in which the
+family usually assembled, the sisters and servants were already gathered
+round the table.  They knelt as the loiterers entered.  It was the wonted
+duty of the younger Spencer to read the prayers; and, as he now did so,
+his graceful countenance more hushed, his sweet voice more earnest than
+usual, in its accents: who that heard could have deemed the heart within
+convulsed by such stormy passions?  Or was it not in that hour--that
+solemn commune--soothed from its woe?  O beneficent Creator!  thou who
+inspirest all the tribes of earth with the desire to pray, hast Thou not,
+in that divinest instinct, bestowed on us the happiest of Thy gifts?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+     "Bertram.  I mean the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of
+     it hereafter.
+
+     "1st Soldier.  Do you know this Captain Dumain?"
+                                        _All's Well that Ends Well_.
+
+One evening, some weeks after the date of the last chapter, Mr. Robert
+Beaufort sat alone in his house in Berkeley Square.  He had arrived that
+morning from Beaufort Court, on his way to Winandermere, to which he was
+summoned by a letter from his wife.  That year was an agitated and
+eventful epoch in England; and Mr. Beaufort had recently gone through the
+bustle of an election--not, indeed, contested; for his popularity and his
+property defied all rivalry in his own county.
+
+The rich man had just dined, and was seated in lazy enjoyment by the side
+of the fire, which he had had lighted, less for the warmth--though it was
+then September--than for the companionship;--engaged in finishing his
+madeira, and, with half-closed eyes, munching his devilled biscuits.
+"I am sure," he soliloquised while thus employed, "I don't know exactly
+what to do,--my wife ought to decide matters where the girl is concerned;
+a son is another affair--that's the use of a wife.  Humph!"
+
+"Sir," said a fat servant, opening the door, "a gentleman wishes to see
+you upon very particular business."
+
+"Business at this hour!  Tell him to go to Mr. Blackwell."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Stay! perhaps he is a constituent, Simmons.  Ask him if he belongs to
+the county."
+
+"Yes, Sir."
+
+"A great estate is a great plague," muttered Mr. Beaufort; "so is a great
+constituency.  It is pleasanter, after all, to be in the House of Lords.
+I suppose I could if I wished; but then one must rat--that's a bore.  I
+will consult Lilburne.  Humph!"
+
+The servant re-appeared.  "Sir, he says he does belong to the county."
+
+"Show him in!--What sort of a person?"
+
+"A sort of gentleman, sir; that is," continued the butler, mindful of
+five shillings just slipped within his palm by the stranger, "quite the
+gentleman."
+
+"More wine, then-stir up the fire."
+
+In a few moments the visitor was ushered into the apartment.  He was a
+man between fifty and sixty, but still aiming at the appearance of youth.
+His dress evinced military pretensions; consisting of a blue coat,
+buttoned up to the chin, a black stock, loose trousers of the fashion
+called Cossacks, and brass spurs.  He wore a wig, of great luxuriance in
+curl and rich auburn in hue; with large whiskers of the same colour
+slightly tinged with grey at the roots.  By the imperfect light of the
+room it was not perceptible that the clothes were somewhat threadbare,
+and that the boots, cracked at the side, admitted glimpses of no very
+white hosiery within.  Mr. Beaufort, reluctantly rising from his repose
+and gladly sinking back to it, motioned to a chair, and put on a doleful
+and doubtful semi-smile of welcome.  The servant placed the wine and
+glasses before the stranger;--the host and visitor were alone.
+
+"So, sir," said Mr. Beaufort, languidly, "you are from ------shire; I
+suppose about the canal,--may I offer you a glass of wine?"
+
+"Most hauppy, sir--your health!"  and the stranger, with evident
+satisfaction, tossed off a bumper to so complimentary a toast.
+
+"About the canal?" repeated Mr. Beaufort.
+
+"No, sir, no!  You parliament gentlemen must hauve a vaust deal of
+trouble on your haunds--very foine property I understaund yours is, sir.
+Sir, allow me to drink the health of your good lady!"
+
+"I thank you, Mr.--, Mr.--, what did you say your name was?--I beg you a
+thousand pardons."
+
+"No offaunce in the least, sir; no ceremony with me--this is perticler
+good madeira!"
+
+"May I ask how I can serve you?"  said Mr. Beaufort, struggling between
+the sense of annoyance and the fear to be uncivil.  "And pray, had I the
+honour of your vote in the last election!"
+
+"No, sir, no!  It's mauny years since I have been in your part of the
+world, though I was born there."
+
+"Then I don't exactly see--" began Mr. Beaufort, and stopped with
+dignity.
+
+"Why I call on you," put in the stranger, tapping his boots with his
+cane; and then recognising the rents, he thrust both feet under the
+table.
+
+"I don't say that; but at this hour I am seldom at leisure--not but what
+I am always at the service of a constituent, that is, a voter!  Mr.--, I
+beg your pardon, I did not catch your name."
+
+"Sir," said the stranger, helping himself to a third glass of wine;
+"here's a health to your young folk!  And now to business."  Here the
+visitor, drawing his chair nearer to his host, assuming a more grave
+aspect, and dropping something of his stilted pronunciation, continued,
+"You had a brother?"
+
+"Well, sir," said Mr. Beaufort, with a very changed countenance.
+
+"And that brother had a wife!"
+
+Had a cannon gone off in the ear of Mr. Robert Beaufort, it could not
+have shocked or stunned him more than that simple word with which his
+companion closed his sentence.  He fell back in his chair--his lips
+apart, his eyes fixed on the stranger.  He sought to speak, but his
+tongue clove to his mouth.
+
+"That wife had two sons, born in wedlock!"
+
+"It is false!" cried Mr. Beaufort, finding a voice at length, and
+springing to his feet.  "And who are you, sir?  and what do you mean
+by--"
+
+"Hush!" said the stranger, perfectly unconcerned, and regaining the
+dignity of his haw-haw enunciation, "better not let the servants hear
+aunything.  For my pawt, I think servants hauve the longest pair of ears
+of auny persons, not excepting jauckasses; their ears stretch from the
+pauntry to the parlour.  Hush, sir!--perticler  good  madeira, this!"
+
+"Sir!"  said Mr. Beaufort, struggling to preserve, or rather recover, his
+temper, "your conduct is exceedingly strange; but allow me to say that
+you are wholly misinformed.  My brother never did marry; and if you have
+anything to say on behalf of those young men--his natural sons--I refer
+you to my solicitor, Mr. Blackwell, of Lincoln's Inn.  I wish you a good
+evening."
+
+"Sir!--the same to you--I won't trouble you auny farther; it was only out
+of koindness I called--I am not used to be treated so--sir, I am in his
+maujesty's service--sir, you will foind that the witness of the marriage
+is forthcoming; you will think of me then, and, perhaps, be sorry.  But
+I've done, 'Your most obedient humble, sir!'"  And the stranger, with a
+flourish of his hand, turned to the door.  At the sight of this
+determination on the part of his strange guest, a cold, uneasy, vague
+presentiment seized Mr. Beaufort.  There, not flashed, but rather froze,
+across him the recollection of his brother's emphatic but disbelieved
+assurances--of Catherine's obstinate assertion of her son's alleged
+rights--rights which her lawsuit, undertaken on her own behalf, had not
+compromised;--a fresh lawsuit might be instituted by the son, and the
+evidence which had been wanting in the former suit might be found at
+last.  With this remembrance and these reflections came a horrible train
+of shadowy fears,--witnesses, verdict, surrender, spoliation--arrears--
+ruin!
+
+The man, who had gained the door, turned back and looked at him with a
+complacent, half-triumphant leer upon his impudent, reckless face.
+
+"Sir," then said Mr. Beaufort, mildly, "I repeat that you had better see
+Mr. Blackwell."
+
+The tempter saw his triumph.  "I have a secret to communicate which it is
+best for you to keep snug.  How mauny people do you wish me to see about
+it?  Come, sir, there is no need of a lawyer; or, if you think so, tell
+him yourself.  Now or never, Mr. Beaufort."
+
+"I can have no objection to hear anything you have to say, sir," said the
+rich man, yet more mildly than before; and then added, with a forced
+smile, "though my rights are already too confirmed to admit of a doubt."
+
+Without heeding the last assertion, the stranger coolly walked back,
+resumed his seat, and, placing both arms on the table and looking Mr.
+Beaufort full in the face, thus proceeded,--
+
+"Sir, of the marriage between Philip Beaufort and Catherine Morton there
+were two witnesses: the one is dead, the other went abroad--the last is
+alive still!"
+
+"If so," said Mr. Beaufort, who, not naturally deficient in cunning and
+sense, felt every faculty now prodigiously sharpened, and was resolved to
+know the precise grounds for alarm,--"if so, why did not the man--it was
+a servant, sir, a man-servant, whom Mrs. Morton pretended to rely on--
+appear on the trial?"
+
+"Because, I say, he was abroad and could not be found; or, the search
+after him miscaurried, from clumsy management and a lack of the rhino."
+
+"Hum!" said Mr. Beaufort--"one witness--one witness, observe, there _is_
+only one!--does not alarm me much.  It is not what a man deposes, it is
+what a jury believe, sir!  Moreover, what has become of the young men?
+They have never been heard of for years.  They are probably dead; if so,
+I am heir-at-law!"
+
+"I know where one of them is to be found at all events."
+
+"The elder?--Philip?" asked Mr. Beaufort anxiously, and with a fearful
+remembrance of the energetic and vehement character prematurely exhibited
+by his nephew.
+
+"Pawdon me! I need not aunswer that question."
+
+"Sir! a lawsuit of this nature, against one in possession, is very
+doubtful, and," added the rich man, drawing himself up--"and, perhaps
+very expensive!"
+
+"The young man I speak of does not want friends, who will not grudge the
+money."
+
+"Sir!" said Mr. Beaufort, rising and placing his back to the fire--"sir!
+what is your object in this communication?  Do you come, on the part of
+the young man, to propose a compromise?  If so, be plain!"
+
+"I come on my own pawt.  It rests with you to say if the young men shall
+never know it!"
+
+"And what do you want?"
+
+"Five hundred a year as long as the secret is kept."
+
+"And how can you prove that there is a secret, after all?"
+
+"By producing the witness if you wish."
+
+"Will he go halves in the L500. a year?"  asked Mr. Beaufort artfully.
+
+"That is moy affair, sir," replied the stranger.
+
+"What you say," resumed Mr. Beaufort, "is so extraordinary--so
+unexpected, and still, to me, seems so improbable, that I must have time
+to consider.  If you will call on me in a week, and produce your facts, I
+will give you my answer.  I am not the man, sir, to wish to keep any one
+out of his true rights, but I will not yield, on the other hand, to
+imposture."
+
+"If you don't want to keep them out of their rights, I'd best go and tell
+my young gentlemen," said the stranger, with cool impudence.
+
+"I tell you I must have time," repeated Beaufort, disconcerted.
+"Besides, I have not myself alone to look to, sir," he added, with
+dignified emphasis--"I am a father!"
+
+"This day week I will call on you again.  Good evening, Mr. Beaufort!"
+
+And the man stretched out his hand with an air of amicable condescension.
+The respectable Mr. Beaufort changed colour, hesitated, and finally
+suffered two fingers to be enticed into the grasp of the visitor, whom he
+ardently wished at that bourne whence no visitor returns.
+
+The stranger smiled, stalked to the door, laid his finger on his lip,
+winked knowingly, and vanished, leaving Mr. Beaufort a prey to such
+feelings of uneasiness, dread, and terror, as may be experienced by a man
+whom, on some inch or two of slippery rock, the tides have suddenly
+surrounded.
+
+He remained perfectly still for some moments, and then glancing round the
+dim and spacious room, his eyes took in all the evidences of luxury and
+wealth which it betrayed.  Above the huge sideboard, that on festive days
+groaned beneath the hoarded weight of the silver heirlooms of the
+Beauforts, hung, in its gilded frame, a large picture of the family seat,
+with the stately porticoes--the noble park--the groups of deer; and
+around the wall, interspersed here and there with ancestral portraits of
+knight and dame, long since gathered to their rest, were placed
+masterpieces of the Italian and Flemish art, which generation after
+generation had slowly accumulated, till the Beaufort Collection had
+become the theme of connoisseurs and the study of young genius.
+
+The still room, the dumb pictures--even the heavy sideboard seemed to
+gain voice, and speak to him audibly.  He thrust his hand into the folds
+of his waistcoat, and griped his own flesh convulsively; then, striding
+to and fro the apartment, he endeavoured to re-collect his thoughts.
+
+"I dare not consult Mrs. Beaufort," he muttered; "no--no,--she is a fool!
+Besides, she's not in the way.  No time to lose--I will go to Lilburne."
+
+Scarce had that thought crossed him than he hastened to put it into
+execution.  He rang for his hat and gloves and sallied out on foot to
+Lord Lilburne's house in Park Lane,--the distance was short, and
+impatience has long strides.
+
+He knew Lord Lilburne was in town, for that personage loved London for
+its own sake; and even in September he would have said with the old Duke
+of Queensberry, when some one observed that London was very empty--"Yes;
+but it is fuller than the country."
+
+Mr. Beaufort found Lord Lilburne reclined on a sofa, by the open window
+of his drawing-room, beyond which the early stars shone upon the
+glimmering trees and silver turf of the deserted park.  Unlike the simple
+dessert of his respectable brother-in-law, the costliest fruits, the
+richest wines of France, graced the small table placed beside his sofa;
+and as the starch man of forms and method entered the room at one door, a
+rustling silk, that vanished through the aperture of another, seemed to
+betray tokens of a _tete-a-tete_, probably more agreeable to Lilburne
+than the one with which only our narrative is concerned.
+
+It would have been a curious study for such men as love to gaze upon the
+dark and wily features of human character, to have watched the contrast
+between the reciter and the listener, as Beaufort, with much
+circumlocution, much affected disdain and real anxiety, narrated the
+singular and ominous conversation between himself and his visitor.
+
+The servant, in introducing Mr. Beaufort, had added to the light of the
+room; and the candles shone full on the face and form of Mr. Beaufort.
+All about that gentleman was so completely in unison with the world's
+forms and seemings, that there was something moral in the very sight of
+him!  Since his accession of fortune he had grown less pale and less
+thin; the angles in his figure were filled up.  On his brow there was no
+trace of younger passion.  No able vice had ever sharpened the
+expression--no exhausting vice ever deepened the lines.  He was the beau-
+ideal of a county member,--so sleek, so staid, so business-like; yet so
+clean, so neat, so much the gentleman.  And now there was a kind of
+pathos in his grey hairs, his nervous smile, his agitated hands, his
+quick and uneasy transition of posture, the tremble of his voice.  He
+would have appeared to those who saw, but heard not, The Good Man in
+trouble.  Cold, motionless, speechless, seemingly apathetic, but in truth
+observant, still reclined on the sofa, his head thrown back, but one eye
+fixed on his companion, his hands clasped before him, Lord Lilburne
+listened; and in that repose, about his face, even about his person,
+might be read the history of how different a life and character!  What
+native acuteness in the stealthy eye!  What hardened resolve in the full
+nostril and firm lips!  What sardonic contempt for all things in the
+intricate lines about the mouth.  What animal enjoyment of all things so
+despised in that delicate nervous system, which, combined with original
+vigour of constitution, yet betrayed itself in the veins on the hands and
+temples, the occasional quiver of the upper lip!  His was the frame above
+all others the most alive to pleasure--deep-chested, compact, sinewy, but
+thin to leanness--delicate in its texture and extremities, almost to
+effeminacy.  The indifference of the posture, the very habit of the dress
+--not slovenly, indeed, but easy, loose, careless--seemed to speak of the
+man's manner of thought and life--his profound disdain of externals.
+
+Not till Beaufort had concluded did Lord Lilburne change his position or
+open his lips; and then, turning to his brother-in-law his calm face, he
+said drily,--
+
+"I always thought your brother had married that woman; he was the sort of
+man to do it.  Besides, why should she have gone to law without a vestige
+of proof, unless she was convinced of her rights?  Imposture never
+proceeds without some evidence.  Innocence, like a fool as it is, fancies
+it has only to speak to be believed.  But there is no cause for alarm."
+
+"No cause!--And yet you think there was a marriage."
+
+"It is quite clear," continued Lilburne, without heeding this
+interruption; "that the man, whatever his evidence, has not got
+sufficient proofs.  If he had, he would go to the young men rather than
+you: it is evident that they would promise infinitely larger rewards than
+he could expect from yourself.  Men are always more generous with what
+they expect than with what they have.  All rogues know this.  'Tis the
+way Jews and usurers thrive upon heirs rather than possessors; 'tis the
+philosophy of post-obits.  I dare say the man has found out the real
+witness of the marriage, but ascertained, also, that the testimony of
+that witness would not suffice to dispossess you.  He might be
+discredited--rich men have a way sometimes of discrediting poor
+witnesses.  Mind, he says nothing of the lost copy of the register--
+whatever may be the value of that document, which I am not lawyer enough
+to say--of any letters of your brother avowing the marriage.  Consider,
+the register itself is destroyed--the clergyman dead.  Pooh! make
+yourself easy."
+
+"True," said Mr. Beaufort, much comforted; "what a memory you have!"
+
+"Naturally.  Your wife is my sister--I hate poor relations--and I was
+therefore much interested in your accession and your lawsuit.  No--you
+may feel--at rest on this matter, so far as a successful lawsuit is
+concerned.  The next question is, Will you have a lawsuit at all?  and is
+it worth while buying this fellow?  That I can't say unless I see him
+myself."
+
+"I wish to Heaven you would!"
+
+"Very willingly: 'tis a sort of thing I like--I'm fond of dealing with
+rogues--it amuses me.  This day week?  I'll be at your house--your proxy;
+I shall do better than Black well.  And since you say you are wanted at
+the Lakes, go down, and leave all to me."
+
+"A thousand thanks.  I can't say how grateful I am.  You certainly are
+the kindest and cleverest person in the world."
+
+"You can't think worse of the world's cleverness and kindness than I do,"
+was Lilburne's rather ambiguous answer to the compliment.  "But why does
+my sister want to see you?"
+
+"Oh, I forgot!--here is her letter.  I was going to ask your advice in
+this too."
+
+Lord Lilburne took the letter, and glanced over it with the rapid eye of
+a man accustomed to seize in everything the main gist and pith.
+
+"An offer to my pretty niece--Mr. Spencer--requires no fortune--his uncle
+will settle all his own--(poor silly old man!)  All!  Why that's only
+L1000. a year.  You don't think much of this, eh?  How my sister can even
+ask you about it puzzles me."
+
+"Why, you see, Lilburne," said Mr. Beaufort, rather embarrassed, "there
+is no question of fortune--nothing to go out of the family; and, really,
+Arthur is so expensive, and, if she were to marry well, I could not give
+her less than fifteen or twenty thousand pounds."
+
+"Aha!--I see--every man to his taste: here a daughter--there a dowry.
+You are devilish fond of money, Beaufort.  Any pleasure in avarice,--eh?"
+
+Mr. Beaufort coloured very much at the remark and the question, and,
+forcing a smile, said,--
+
+"You are severe.  But you don't know what it is to be father to a young
+man."
+
+"Then a great many young women have told me sad fibs!  But you are right
+in your sense of the phrase.  No, I never had an heir apparent, thank
+Heaven!  No children imposed upon me by law--natural enemies, to count
+the years between the bells that ring for their majority, and those that
+will toll for my decease.  It is enough for me that I have a brother and
+a sister--that my brother's son will inherit my estates--and that, in the
+meantime, he grudges me every tick in that clock.  What then?  If he had
+been my uncle, I had done the same.  Meanwhile, I see as little of him as
+good breeding will permit.  On the face of a rich man's heir is written
+the rich man's _memento mori_!  But _revenons a nos moutons_.  Yes, if
+you give your daughter no fortune, your death will be so much the more
+profitable to Arthur!"
+
+"Really, you take such a very odd view of the matter," said Mr. Beaufort,
+exceedingly shocked.  "But I see you don't like the marriage; perhaps you
+are right."
+
+"Indeed, I have no choice in the matter; I never interfere between father
+and children.  If I had children myself, I will, however, tell you, for
+your comfort, that they might marry exactly as they pleased--I would
+never thwart them.  I should be too happy to get them out of my way.  If
+they married well, one would have all the credit; if ill, one would have
+an excuse to disown them.  As I said before, I dislike poor relations.
+Though if Camilla lives at the Lakes when she is married, it is but a
+letter now and then; and that's your wife's trouble, not yours.  But,
+Spencer--what Spencer!--what family?  Was there not a Mr. Spencer who
+lived at Winandermere--who----"
+
+"Who went with us in search of these boys, to be sure.  Very likely the
+same--nay, he must be so.  I thought so at the first."
+
+"Go down to the Lakes to-morrow.  You may hear something about your
+nephews;" at that word Mr. Beaufort winced.
+
+"'Tis well to be forearmed."
+
+"Many thanks for all your counsel," said Beaufort, rising, and glad to
+escape; for though both he and his wife held the advice of Lord Lilburne
+in the highest reverence, they always smarted beneath the quiet and
+careless stings which accompanied the honey.  Lord Lilburne was singular
+in this,--he would give to any one who asked it, but especially a
+relation, the best advice in his power; and none gave better, that is,
+more worldly advice.  Thus, without the least benevolence, he was often
+of the greatest service; but he could not help mixing up the draught with
+as much aloes and bitter-apple as possible.  His intellect delighted in
+exhibiting itself even gratuitously.  His heart equally delighted in that
+only cruelty which polished life leaves to its tyrants towards their
+equals,--thrusting pins into the feelings and breaking self-love upon the
+wheel.  But just as Mr. Beaufort had drawn on his gloves and gained the
+doorway, a thought seemed to strike Lord Lilburne:
+
+"By the by," he said, "you understand that when I promised I would try
+and settle the matter for you, I only meant that I would learn the exact
+causes you have for alarm on the one hand, or for a compromise with this
+fellow on the other.  If the last be advisable you are aware that I
+cannot interfere.  I might get into a scrape; and Beaufort Court is not
+my property."
+
+"I don't quite understand you."
+
+"I am plain enough, too.  If there is money to be given it is given in
+order to defeat what is called justice--to keep these nephews of yours
+out of their inheritance.  Now, should this ever come to light, it would
+have an ugly appearance.  They who risk the blame must be the persons who
+possess the estate."
+
+"If you think it dishonourable or dishonest--" said Beaufort,
+irresolutely.
+
+"I! I never can advise as to the feelings; I can only advise as to the
+policy.  If you don't think there ever was a marriage, it may, still, be
+honest in you to prevent the bore of a lawsuit."
+
+"But if he can prove to me that they were married?"
+
+"Pooh!" said Lilburne, raising his eyebrows with a slight expression of
+contemptuous impatience; "it rests on yourself whether or not he prove it
+to YOUR satisfaction!  For my part, as a third person, I am persuaded the
+marriage did take place.  But if I had Beaufort Court, my convictions
+would be all the other way.  You understand.  I am too happy to serve
+you.  But no man can be expected to jeopardise his character, or coquet
+with the law, unless it be for his own individual interest.  Then, of
+course, he must judge for himself.  Adieu! I expect some friends
+foreigners--Carlists--to whist.  You won't join them?"
+
+"I never play, you know.  You will write to me at Winandermere: and, at
+all events, you will keep off the man till I return?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+Beaufort, whom the latter part of the conversation had comforted far less
+than the former, hesitated, and turned the door-handle three or four
+times; but, glancing towards his brother-in-law, he saw in that cold face
+so little sympathy in the struggle between interest and conscience, that
+he judged it best to withdraw at once.
+
+As soon as he was gone, Lilburne summoned his valet, who had lived with
+him many years, and who was his confidant in all the adventurous
+gallantries with which he still enlivened the autumn of his life.
+
+"Dykeman," said he, "you have let out that lady?"
+
+"Yes, my lord."
+
+"I am not at home if she calls again.  She is stupid; she cannot get the
+girl to come to her again.  I shall trust you with an adventure, Dykeman
+--an adventure that will remind you of our young days, man.  This
+charming creature--I tell you she is irresistible--her very oddities
+bewitch me.  You must--well, you look uneasy.  What would you say?"
+
+"My lord, I have found out more about her--and--and----"
+
+"Well, well."
+
+The valet drew near and whispered something in his master's ear.
+
+"They are idiots who say it, then," answered Lilburne.  "And," faltered
+the man, with the shame of humanity on his face, "she is not worthy your
+lordship's notice--a poor--"
+
+"Yes, I know she is poor; and, for that reason, there can be no
+difficulty, if the thing is properly managed.  You never, perhaps, heard
+of a certain Philip, king of Macedon; but I will tell you what he once
+said, as well as I can remember it: 'Lead an ass with a pannier of gold;
+send the ass through the gates of a city, and all the sentinels will run
+away.'  Poor!--where there is love, there is charity also, Dykeman.
+Besides--"
+
+Here Lilburne's countenance assumed a sudden aspect of dark and angry
+passion,--he broke off abruptly, rose, and paced the room, muttering to
+himself.  Suddenly he stopped, and put his hand to his hip, as an
+expression of pain again altered the character of his face.
+
+"The limb pains me still!  Dykeman--I was scarce twenty-one--when I became
+a cripple for life."  He paused, drew a long breath, smiled, rubbed his
+hands gently, and added: "Never fear--you shall be the ass; and thus
+Philip of Macedon begins to fill the pannier."  And he tossed his purse
+into the hands of the valet, whose face seemed to lose its anxious
+embarrassment at the touch of the gold.  Lilburne glanced at him with a
+quiet sneer: "Go!--I will give you my orders when I undress."
+
+"Yes!" he repeated to himself, "the limb pains me still.  But he died!--
+shot as a man would shoot a jay or a polecat!
+
+"I have the newspaper still in that drawer.  He died an outcast--a felon--
+a murderer!  And I blasted his name--and I seduced his mistress--and I--
+am John Lord Lilburne!"
+
+About ten o'clock, some half-a-dozen of those gay lovers of London, who,
+like Lilburne, remain faithful to its charms when more vulgar worshippers
+desert its sunburnt streets--mostly single men--mostly men of middle age
+--dropped in.  And soon after came three or four high-born foreigners,
+who had followed into England the exile of the unfortunate Charles X.
+Their looks, at once proud and sad--their moustaches curled downward--
+their beards permitted to grow--made at first a strong contrast with the
+smooth gay Englishmen.  But Lilburne, who was fond of French society, and
+who, when he pleased, could be courteous and agreeable, soon placed the
+exiles at their ease; and, in the excitement of high play, all
+differences of mood and humour speedily vanished.  Morning was in the
+skies before they sat down to supper.
+
+"You have been very fortunate to-night, milord," said one of the
+Frenchmen, with an envious tone of congratulation.
+
+"But, indeed," said another, who, having been several times his host's
+partner, had won largely, "you are the finest player, milord, I ever
+encountered."
+
+"Always excepting Monsieur Deschapelles and--," replied Lilburne,
+indifferently.  And, turning the conversation, he asked one of the guests
+why he had not introduced him to a French officer of merit and
+distinction; "With whom," said Lord Lilburne, "I understand that you are
+intimate, and of whom I hear your countrymen very often speak."
+
+"You mean De Vaudemont.  Poor fellow!"  said a middle-aged Frenchman, of
+a graver appearance than the rest.
+
+"But why 'poor fellow!' Monsieur de Liancourt?"
+
+"He was rising so high before the revolution.  There was not a braver
+officer in the army.  But he is but a soldier of fortune, and his career
+is closed."
+
+"Till the Bourbons return," said another Carlist, playing with his
+moustache.
+
+"You will really honour me much by introducing me to him," said Lord
+Lilburne.  "De Vaudemont--it is a good name,--perhaps, too, he plays at
+whist."
+
+"But," observed one of the Frenchmen, "I am by no means sure that he has
+the best right in the world to the name.  'Tis a strange story."
+
+"May I hear it?"  asked the host.
+
+"Certainly.  It is briefly this: There was an old Vicomte de Vaudemont
+about Paris; of good birth, but extremely poor--a mauvais sujet.  He had
+already had two wives, and run through their fortunes.  Being old and
+ugly, and men who survive two wives having a bad reputation among
+marriageable ladies at Paris, he found it difficult to get a third.
+Despairing of the noblesse he went among the bourgeoisie with that hope.
+His family were kept in perpetual fear of a ridiculous mesalliance.
+Among these relations was Madame de Merville, whom you may have heard
+of."
+
+"Madame de Merville!  Ah, yes!  Handsome, was she not?"
+
+"It is true.  Madame de Merville, whose failing was pride, was known more
+than once to have bought off the matrimonial inclinations of the amorous
+vicomte.  Suddenly there appeared in her circles a very handsome young
+man.  He was presented formally to her friends as the son of the Vicomte
+de Vaudemont by his second marriage with an English lady, brought up in
+England, and now for the first time publicly acknowledged.  Some scandal
+was circulated--"
+
+"Sir," interrupted Monsieur de Liancourt, very gravely, "the scandal was
+such as all honourable men must stigmatise and despise--it was only to be
+traced to some lying lackey--a scandal that the young man was already the
+lover of a woman of stainless reputation the very first day that he
+entered Paris!  I answer for the falsity of that report.  But that report
+I own was one that decided not only Madame de Merville, who was a
+sensitive--too sensitive a person, but my friend young Vaudemont, to a
+marriage, from the pecuniary advantages of which he was too high-spirited
+not to shrink."
+
+"Well," said Lord Lilburne, "then this young De Vaudemont married Madame
+de Merville?"
+
+"No," said Liancourt somewhat sadly, "it was not so decreed; for
+Vaudemont, with a feeling which belongs to a gentleman, and which I
+honour, while deeply and gratefully attached to Madame de Merville,
+desired that he might first win for himself some honourable distinction
+before he claimed a hand to which men of fortunes so much higher had
+aspired in vain.  I am not ashamed," he added, after a slight pause, "to
+say that I had been one of the rejected suitors, and that I still revere
+the memory of Eugenie de Merville.  The young man, therefore, was to have
+entered my regiment.  Before, however, he had joined it, and while yet in
+the full flush of a young man's love for a woman formed to excite the
+strongest attachment, she--she---" The Frenchman's voice trembled, and he
+resumed with affected composure: "Madame de Merville, who had the best
+and kindest heart that ever beat in a human breast, learned one day that
+there was a poor widow in the garret of the hotel she inhabited who was
+dangerously ill--without medicine and without food--having lost her only
+friend and supporter in her husband some time before.  In the impulse of
+the moment, Madame de Merville herself attended this widow--caught the
+fever that preyed upon her--was confined to her bed ten days--and died as
+she bad lived, in serving others and forgetting self.--And so much, sir,
+for the scandal you spoke of!"
+
+"A warning," observed Lord Lilburne, "against trifling with one's health
+by that vanity of parading a kind heart, which is called charity.  If
+charity, _mon cher_, begins at home, it is in the drawing-room, not the
+garret!"
+
+The Frenchman looked at his host in some disdain, bit his lip, and was
+silent.
+
+"But still," resumed Lord Lilburne, "still it is so probable that your
+old vicomte had a son; and I can so perfectly understand why he did not
+wish to be embarrassed with him as long as he could help it, that I do
+not understand why there should be any doubt of the younger De
+Vaudemont's parentage."
+
+"Because," said the Frenchman who had first commenced the narrative,--
+"because the young man refused to take the legal steps to proclaim his
+birth and naturalise himself a Frenchman; because, no sooner was Madame
+de Merville dead than he forsook the father he had so newly discovered--
+forsook France, and entered with some other officers, under the brave,
+in the service of one of the native princes of India."
+
+"But perhaps he was poor," observed Lord Lilburne.  "A father is a very
+good thing, and a country is a very good thing, but still a man must have
+money; and if your father does not do much for you, somehow or other,
+your country generally follows his example."
+
+"My lord," said Liancourt, "my friend here has forgotten to say that
+Madame de Merville had by deed of gift; (though unknown to her lover),
+before her death, made over to young Vaudemont the bulk of her fortune;
+and that, when he was informed of this donation after her decease, and
+sufficiently recovered from the stupor of his grief, he summoned her
+relations round him, declared that her memory was too dear to him for
+wealth to console him for her loss, and reserving to himself but a,
+modest and bare sufficiency for the common necessaries of a gentleman,
+he divided the rest amongst them, and repaired to the East; not only to
+conquer his sorrow by the novelty and stir of an exciting life, but to
+carve out with his own hand the reputation of an honourable and brave
+man.  My friend remembered the scandal long buried--he forgot the
+generous action."
+
+"Your friend, you see, my dear Monsieur de Liancourt," remarked Lilburne,
+"is more a man of the world than you are!"
+
+"And I was just going to observe," said the friend thus referred to,
+"that that very action seemed to confirm the rumour that there had been
+some little manoeuvring as to this unexpected addition to the name of De
+Vaudemont; for, if himself related to Madame de Merville, why have such
+scruples to receive her gift?"
+
+"A very shrewd remark," said Lord Lilburne, looking with some respect at
+the speaker; "and I own that it is a very unaccountable proceeding, and
+one of which I don't think you or I would ever have been guilty.  Well,
+and the old Vicomte?"
+
+"Did not live long!"  said the Frenchman, evidently gratified by his
+host's compliment, while Liancourt threw himself back in his chair in
+grave displeasure.  "The young man remained some years in India, and when
+he returned to Paris, our friend here, Monsieur de Liancourt (then in
+favour with Charles X.), and Madame de Merville's relations took him up.
+He had already acquired a reputation in this foreign service, and he
+obtained a place at the court, and a commission in the king's guards.  I
+allow that he would certainly have made a career, had it not been for the
+Three Days.  As it is, you see him in London, like the rest of us, an
+exile!"
+
+"And I suppose, without a sous."
+
+"No, I believe that he had still saved, and even augmented, in India, the
+portion he allotted to himself from Madame de Merville's bequest."
+
+"And if he don't play whist, he ought to play it," said Lilburne.  "You
+have roused my curiosity; I hope you will let me make his acquaintance,
+Monsieur de Liancourt.  I am no politician, but allow me to propose this
+toast, 'Success to those who have the wit to plan, and the strength to
+execute.' In other words, 'the Right Divine!'"
+
+Soon afterwards the guests retired.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+"Ros.  Happily, he's the second time come to them."--Hamlet.
+
+It was the evening after that in which the conversations recorded in our
+last chapter were held;--evening in the quiet suburb of H------.  The
+desertion and silence of the metropolis in September had extended to its
+neighbouring hamlets;--a village in the heart of the country could
+scarcely have seemed more still; the lamps were lighted, many of the
+shops already closed, a few of the sober couples and retired spinsters of
+the place might, here and there, be seen slowly wandering homeward after
+their evening walk: two or three dogs, in spite of the prohibitions of
+the magistrates placarded on the walls,--(manifestoes which threatened
+with death the dogs, and predicted more than ordinary madness to the
+public,)--were playing in the main road, disturbed from time to time as
+the slow coach, plying between the city and the suburb, crawled along the
+thoroughfare, or as the brisk mails whirled rapidly by, announced by the
+cloudy dust and the guard's lively horn.  Gradually even these evidences
+of life ceased--the saunterers disappeared, the mails had passed, the
+dogs gave place to the later and more stealthy perambulations of their
+feline successors "who love the moon."  At unfrequent intervals, the more
+important shops--the linen-drapers', the chemists', and the gin-palace--
+still poured out across the shadowy road their streams of light from
+windows yet unclosed: but with these exceptions, the business of the
+place stood still.
+
+At this time there emerged from a milliner's house (shop, to outward
+appearance, it was not, evincing its gentility and its degree above the
+Capelocracy, to use a certain classical neologism, by a brass plate on an
+oak door, whereon was graven, "Miss Semper, Milliner and Dressmaker,
+from Madame Devy,")--at this time, I say, and from this house there
+emerged the light and graceful form of a young female.  She held in her
+left hand a little basket, of the contents of which (for it was empty)
+she had apparently just disposed; and, as she stepped across the road,
+the lamplight fell on a face in the first bloom of youth, and
+characterised by an expression of childlike innocence and candour.  It
+was a face regularly and exquisitely lovely, yet something there was in
+the aspect that saddened you; you knew not why, for it was not sad
+itself; on the contrary, the lips smiled and the eyes sparkled.  As she
+now glided along the shadowy street with a light, quick step, a man, who
+had hitherto been concealed by the portico of an attorney's house,
+advanced stealthily, and followed her at a little distance.  Unconscious
+that she was dogged, and seemingly fearless of all danger, the girl went
+lightly on, swinging her basket playfully to and fro, and chaunting, in a
+low but musical tone, some verses that seemed rather to belong to the
+nursery than to that age which the fair singer had attained.
+
+As she came to an angle which the main street formed with a lane, narrow
+and partially lighted, a policeman, stationed there, looked hard at her,
+and then touched his hat with an air of respect, in which there seemed
+also a little of compassion.
+
+"Good night to you," said the girl, passing him, and with a frank, gay
+tone.
+
+"Shall I attend you home, Miss?" said the man.
+
+"What for?  I am very well!"  answered the young woman, with an accent
+and look of innocent surprise.
+
+Just at this time the man, who had hitherto followed her, gained the
+spot, and turned down the lane.
+
+"Yes," replied the policeman; "but it is getting dark, Miss."
+
+"So it is every night when I walk home, unless there's a moon.--Good-
+bye.--The moon," she repeated to herself, as she walked on, "I used to be
+afraid of the moon when I was a little child;" and then, after a pause,
+she murmured, in a low chaunt:
+
+               "'The moon she is a wandering ghost,
+               That walks in penance nightly;
+               How sad she is, that wandering moon,
+               For all she shines so brightly!
+
+               "'I watched her eyes when I was young,
+               Until they turned my brain,
+               And now I often weep to think
+               'Twill ne'er be right again.'"
+
+As the murmur of these words died at a distance down the lane in which
+the girl had disappeared, the policeman, who had paused to listen, shook
+his head mournfully, and said, while he moved on,--
+
+"Poor thing! they should not let her always go about by herself; and yet,
+who would harm her?"
+
+Meanwhile the girl proceeded along the lane, which was skirted by small,
+but not mean houses, till it terminated in a cross-stile that admitted
+into a church yard.  Here hung the last lamp in the path, and a few dint
+stars broke palely over the long grass, and scattered gravestones,
+without piercing the deep shadow which the church threw over a large
+portion of the sacred ground.  Just as she passed the stile, the man,
+whom we have before noticed, and who had been leaning, as if waiting for
+some one, against the pales, approached, and said gently,--
+
+"Ah, Miss! it is a lone place for one so beautiful as you are to be
+alone.  You ought never to be on foot."
+
+The girl stopped, and looked full, but without any alarm in her eyes,
+into the man's face.
+
+"Go away!" she said, with a half-peevish, half-kindly tone of command.
+"I don't know you."
+
+"But I have been sent to speak to you by one who does know you, Miss--one
+who loves you to distraction--he has seen you before at Mrs. West's.  He
+is so grieved to think you should walk--you ought, he says, to have every
+luxury--that he has sent his carriage for you.  It is on the other side
+of the yard.  Do come now;" and he laid his hand, though very lightly, on
+her arm.
+
+"At Mrs. West's!" she said; and, for the first time, her voice and look
+showed fear.  "Go away directly!  How dare you touch me!"
+
+"But, my dear Miss, you have no idea how my employer loves you, and how
+rich he is.  See, he has sent you all this money; it is gold--real gold.
+You may have what you like, if you will but come.  Now, don't be silly,
+Miss."  The girl made no answer, but, with a sudden spring, passed the
+man, and ran lightly and rapidly along the path, in an opposite direction
+from that to which the tempter had pointed, when inviting her to the
+carriage.  The man, surprised, but not baffled, reached her in an
+instant, and caught hold of her dress.
+
+"Stay! you must come--you must!"  he said, threateningly; and, loosening
+his grasp on her shawl, he threw his arm round her waist.
+
+"Don't!" cried the girl, pleadingly, and apparently subdued, turning her
+fair, soft face upon her pursuer, and clasping her hands.  "Be quiet!
+Fanny is silly!  No one is ever rude to poor Fanny!"
+
+"And no one will be rude to you, Miss," said the man, apparently touched;
+"but I dare not go without you.  You don't know what you refuse.  Come;"
+and he attempted gently to draw her back.
+
+"No, no!"  said the girl, changing from supplication to anger, and
+raising her voice into a loud shriek, "No! I will--"
+
+"Nay, then," interrupted the man, looking round anxiously, and, with a
+quick and dexterous movement he threw a large handkerchief over her face,
+and, as he held it fast to her lips with one hand, he lifted her from the
+ground.  Still violently struggling, the girl contrived to remove the
+handkerchief, and once more her shriek of terror rang through the
+violated sanctuary.
+
+At that instant a loud deep voice was heard, "Who calls?"  And a tall
+figure seemed to rise, as from the grave itself, and emerge from the
+shadow of the church.  A moment more, and a strong gripe was laid on the
+shoulder of the ravisher.  "What is this?  On God's ground, too!  Release
+her, wretch!"
+
+The man, trembling, half with superstitious, half with bodily fear, let
+go his captive, who fell at once at the knees of her deliverer.  "Don't
+you hurt me too," she said, as the tears rolled down her eyes.  "I am a
+good girl-and my grandfather's blind."
+
+The stranger bent down and raised her; then looking round for the
+assailant with an eye whose dark fire shone through the gloom, he
+perceived the coward stealing off.  He disdained to pursue.
+
+"My poor child," said he, with that voice which the strong assume to the
+weak--the man to some wounded infant--the voice of tender superiority and
+compassion, "there is no cause for fear now.  Be soothed.  Do you live
+near?  Shall I see you home?"
+
+"Thank you!  That's kind.  Pray do!"  And, with an infantine confidence
+she took his hand, as a child does that of a grown-up person;--so they
+walked on together.
+
+"And," said the stranger, "do you know that man?  Has he insulted you
+before?"
+
+"No--don't talk of him: _ce me fait mal_!"  And she put her hand to her
+forehead.
+
+The French was spoken with so French an accent, that, in some curiosity,
+the stranger cast his eye over her plain dress.
+
+"You speak French well."
+
+"Do I?  I wish I knew more words--I only recollect a few.  When I am very
+happy or very sad they come into my head.  But I am happy now.  I like
+your voice--I like you--Oh! I have dropped my basket!"
+
+"Shall I go back for it, or shall I buy you another?"
+
+"Another!--Oh, no! come back for it.  How kind you are!--Ah!  I see it!"
+and she broke away and ran forward to pick it up.
+
+When she had recovered it, she laughed-she spoke to it--she kissed it.
+
+Her companion smiled as he said: "Some sweetheart has given you that
+basket--it seems but a common basket too."
+
+"I have had it--oh, ever since--since--I don't know how long!  It came
+with me from France--it was full of little toys.  They are gone--I am so
+sorry!"
+
+"How old are you?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"My pretty one," said the stranger, with deep pity in his rich voice,
+"your mother should not let you go out alone at this hour."
+
+"Mother!--mother!"  repeated the girl, in a tone of surprise.
+
+"Have you no mother?"
+
+"No! I had a father once.  But he died, they say.  I did not see him die.
+I sometimes cry when I think that I shall never, never see him again!
+But," she said, changing her accent from melancholy almost to joy, "he is
+to have a grave here like the other girl's fathers--a fine stone upon it
+--and all to be done with my money!"
+
+"Your money, my child?"
+
+"Yes; the money I make.  I sell my work and take the money to my
+grandfather; but I lay by a little every week for a gravestone for my
+father."
+
+"Will the gravestone be placed in that churchyard?"  They were now in
+another lane; and, as he spoke, the stranger checked her, and bending
+down to look into her face, he murmured to himself, "Is it possible?--it
+must be--it must!"
+
+"Yes! I love that churchyard--my brother told me to put flowers there;
+and grandfather and I sit there in the summer, without speaking.  But I
+don't talk much, I like singing better:--
+
+               "'All things that good and harmless are
+               Are taught, they say, to sing
+               The maiden resting at her work,
+               The bird upon the wing;
+               The little ones at church, in prayer;
+               The angels in the sky
+               The angels less when babes are born
+               Than when the aged die.'"
+
+And unconscious of the latent moral, dark or cheering, according as we
+estimate the value of this life, couched in the concluding rhyme, Fanny
+turned round to the stranger, and said, "Why should the angels be glad
+when the aged die?"
+
+"That they are released from a false, unjust, and miserable world, in
+which the first man was a rebel, and the second a murderer!"  muttered
+the stranger between his teeth, which he gnashed as he spoke.
+
+The girl did not understand him: she shook her head gently, and made no
+reply.  A few moments, and she paused before a small house.
+
+"This is my home."
+
+"It is so," said her companion, examining the exterior of the house with
+an earnest gaze; "and your name is Fanny."
+
+"Yes--every one knows Fanny.  Come in;" and the girl opened the door with
+a latch-key.
+
+The stranger bowed his stately height as he crossed the low threshold and
+followed his guide into a little parlour.  Before a table on which burned
+dimly, and with unheeded wick, a single candle, sat a man of advanced
+age; and as he turned his face to the door, the stranger saw that he was
+blind.
+
+The girl bounded to his chair, passed her arms round the old man's neck,
+and kissed his forehead; then nestling herself at his feet, and leaning
+her clasped hands caressingly on his knee, she said,--
+
+"Grandpapa, I have brought you somebody you must love.  He has been so
+kind to Fanny."
+
+"And neither of you can remember me!"  said the guest.
+
+The old man, whose dull face seemed to indicate dotage, half raised
+himself at the sound of the stranger's voice.  "Who is that?"  said he,
+with a feeble and querulous voice.  "Who wants me?"
+
+"I am the friend of your lost son.  I am he who, ten years go, brought
+Fanny to your roof, and gave her to your care--your son's last charge.
+And you blessed your son, and forgave him, and vowed to be a father to
+his Fanny."  The old man, who had now slowly risen to his feet, trembled
+violently, and stretched out his hands.
+
+"Come near--near--let me put my hands on your head.  I cannot see you;
+but Fanny talks of you, and prays for you; and Fanny--she has been an
+angel to me!"
+
+The stranger approached and half knelt as the old man spread his hands
+over his head, muttering inaudibly.  Meanwhile Fanny, pale as death--her
+lips apart--an eager, painful expression on her face--looked inquiringly
+on the dark, marked countenance of the visitor, and creeping towards him
+inch by inch, fearfully touched his dress--his arms--his countenance.
+
+"Brother," she said at last, doubtingly and timidly, "Brother, I thought
+I could never forget you!  But you are not like my brother; you are
+older;--you are--you are!--no! no! you are not my brother!"
+
+"I am much changed, Fanny; and you too!"
+
+He smiled as he spoke; and the smile-sweet and pitying--thoroughly
+changed the character of his face, which was ordinarily stern, grave, and
+proud.
+
+"I know you now!"  exclaimed Fanny, in a tone of wild joy.  "And you come
+back from that grave!  My flowers have brought you back at last!  I knew
+they would!  Brother!  Brother!"
+
+And she threw herself on his breast and burst into passionate tears.
+Then, suddenly drawing herself back, she laid her finger on his arm, and
+looked up at him beseechingly.
+
+"Pray, now, is he really dead?  He, my father!--he, too, was lost like
+you.  Can't he come back again as you have done?"
+
+"Do you grieve for him still, then?  Poor girl!"  said the stranger,
+evasively, and seating himself.  Fanny continued to listen for an answer
+to her touching question; but finding that none was given, she stole away
+to a corner of the room, and leaned her face on her hands, and seemed to
+think--till at last, as she so sat, the tears began to flow down her
+cheeks, and she wept, but silently and unnoticed.
+
+"But, sir," said the guest, after a short pause, "how is this?  Fanny
+tells me she supports you by her work.  Are you so poor, then?  Yet I
+left you your son's bequest; and you, too, I understood, though not rich,
+were not in want!"
+
+"There was a curse on my gold," said the old man, sternly.  "It was
+stolen from us."
+
+There was another pause.  Simon broke it.
+
+"And you, young man--how has it fared with you?  You have prospered,
+I hope."
+
+"I am as I have been for years--alone in the world, without kindred and
+without friends.  But, thanks to Heaven, I am not a beggar!"
+
+"No kindred and no friends!"  repeated the old man.  "No father--no
+brother--no wife--no sister!"
+
+"None!  No one to care whether I live or die," answered the stranger,
+with a mixture of pride and sadness in his voice.  "But, as the song has
+it--
+
+                    "'I care for nobody--no, not I,
+                    For nobody cares for me!'"
+
+There was a certain pathos in the mockery with which he repeated the
+homely lines, although, as he did, he gathered himself up, as if
+conscious of a certain consolation and reliance on the resources not
+dependent on others which he had found in his own strong limbs and his
+own stout heart.
+
+At that moment he felt a soft touch upon his hand, and he saw Fanny
+looking at him through the tears that still flowed.
+
+"You have no one to care for you?  Don't say so!  Come and live with us,
+brother; we'll care for you.  I have never forgotten the flowers--never!
+Do come!  Fanny shall love you.  Fanny can work for three!"
+
+"And they call her an idiot!"  mumbled the old man, with a vacant smile
+on his lips.
+
+"My sister!  You shall be my sister!  Forlorn one--whom even Nature has
+fooled and betrayed!  Sister!--we, both orphans!  Sister!"  exclaimed
+that dark, stern man, passionately, and with a broken voice; and he
+opened his arms, and Fanny, without a blush or a thought of shame, threw
+herself on his breast.  He kissed her forehead with a kiss that was,
+indeed, pure and holy as a brother's: and Fanny felt that he had left
+upon her cheek a tear that was not her own.
+
+"Well," he said, with an altered voice, and taking the old man's hand,
+"what say you?  Shall I take up my lodging with you?  I have a little
+money; I can protect and aid you both.  I shall be often away--in London
+or else where--and will not intrude too much on you.  But you blind, and
+she--(here he broke off the sentence abruptly and went on)--you should
+not be left alone.  And this neighbourhood, that burial-place, are dear
+to me.  I, too, Fanny, have lost a parent; and that grave--"
+
+He paused, and then added, in a trembling voice, "And you have placed
+flowers over that grave?"
+
+"Stay with us," said the blind man; "not for our sake, but your own.  The
+world is a bad place.  I have been long sick of the world.  Yes! come and
+live near the burial-ground--the nearer you are to the grave, the safer
+you are;--and you have a little money, you say!"
+
+"I will come to-morrow, then.  I must return now.  Tomorrow, Fanny, we
+shall meet again."
+
+"Must you go?"  said Fanny, tenderly.  "But you will come again; you know
+I used to think every one died when he left me.  I am wiser now.  Yet
+still, when you do leave me, it is true that you die for Fanny!"
+
+At this moment, as the three persons were grouped, each had assumed a
+posture of form, an expression of face, which a painter of fitting
+sentiment and skill would have loved to study.  The visitor had gained
+the door; and as he stood there, his noble height--the magnificent
+strength and health of his manhood in its full prime--contrasted alike
+the almost spectral debility of extreme age and the graceful delicacy of
+Fanny--half girl, half child.  There was something foreign in his air--
+and the half military habit, relieved by the red riband of the Bourbon
+knighthood.  His complexion was dark as that of a Moor, and his raven
+hair curled close to the stately head.  The soldier-moustache--thick, but
+glossy as silk-shaded the firm lip; and the pointed beard, assumed by the
+exiled Carlists, heightened the effect of the strong and haughty features
+and the expression of the martial countenance.
+
+But as Fanny's voice died on his ear, he half averted that proud face;
+and the dark eyes--almost Oriental in their brilliancy and depth of
+shade--seemed soft and humid.  And there stood Fanny, in a posture of
+such unconscious sadness--such childlike innocence; her arms drooping--
+her face wistfully turned to his--and a half smile upon the lips, that
+made still more touching the tears not yet dried upon her cheeks.  While
+thin, frail, shadowy, with white hair and furrowed cheeks, the old man
+fixed his sightless orbs on space; and his face, usually only animated
+from the lethargy of advancing dotage by a certain querulous cynicism,
+now grew suddenly earnest, and even thoughtful, as Fanny spoke of Death!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+               "Ulyss.  Time hath a wallet at his back
+               Wherein he puts alms for oblivion.
+               *  *  Perseverance, dear my lord,
+               Keeps honour bright."--_Troilus and Cressida_.
+
+I have, not sought--as would have been easy, by a little ingenuity in the
+earlier portion of this narrative--whatever source of vulgar interest
+might be derived from the mystery of names and persons.  As in Charles
+Spencer the reader is allowed at a glance to detect Sidney Morton, so in
+Philip de Vaudemont (the stranger who rescued Fanny) the reader at once
+recognises the hero of my tale; but since neither of these young men has
+a better right to the name resigned than to the name adopted, it will be
+simpler and more convenient to designate them by those appellations by
+which they are now known to the world.  In truth, Philip de Vaudemont was
+scarcely the same being as Philip Morton.  In the short visit he had paid
+to the elder Gawtrey, when he consigned Fanny to his charge, he had given
+no name; and the one he now took (when, towards the evening of the next
+day he returned to Simon's house) the old man heard for the first time.
+Once more sunk into his usual apathy, Simon did not express any surprise
+that a Frenchman should be so well acquainted with English--he scarcely
+observed that the name was French.  Simon's age seemed daily to bring him
+more and more to that state when life is mere mechanism, and the soul,
+preparing for its departure, no longer heeds the tenement that crumbles
+silently and neglected into its lonely dust.  Vaudemont came with but
+little luggage (for he had an apartment also in London), and no
+attendant,--a single horse was consigned to the stables of an inn at
+hand, and he seemed, as soldiers are, more careful for the comforts of
+the animal than his own.  There was but one woman servant in the humble
+household, who did all the ruder work, for Fanny's industry could afford
+it.  The solitary servant and the homely fare sufficed for the simple and
+hardy adventurer.
+
+Fanny, with a countenance radiant with joy, took his hand and led him to
+his room.  Poor child! with that instinct of woman which never deserted
+her, she had busied herself the whole day in striving to deck the chamber
+according to her own notions of comfort.  She had stolen from her little
+hoard wherewithal to make some small purchases, on which the Dowbiggin of
+the suburb had been consulted.  And what with flowers on the table, and a
+fire at the hearth, the room looked cheerful.
+
+She watched him as he glanced around, and felt disappointed that he did
+not utter the admiration she expected.  Angry at last with the
+indifference which, in fact, as to external accommodation, was habitual
+to him, she plucked his sleeve, and said,--
+
+"Why don't you speak?  Is it not nice?--Fanny did her best."
+
+"And a thousand thanks to Fanny!  It is all I could wish."
+
+"There is another room, bigger than this, but the wicked woman who robbed
+us slept there; and besides, you said you liked the churchyard.  See!"
+and she opened the window and pointed to the church-tower rising dark
+against the evening sky.
+
+"This is better than all!" said Vaudemont; and he looked out from the
+window in a silent reverie, which Fanny did not disturb.
+
+And now he was settled!  From a career so wild, agitated, and various,
+the adventurer paused in that humble resting-nook.  But quiet is not
+repose--obscurity is not content.  Often as, morn and eve, he looked
+forth upon the spot, where his mother's heart, unconscious of love and
+woe, mouldered away, the indignant and bitter feelings of the wronged
+outcast and the son who could not clear the mother's name swept away the
+subdued and gentle melancholy into which time usually softens regret for
+the dead, and with which most of us think of the distant past, and the
+once joyous childhood!
+
+In this man's breast lay, concealed by his external calm, those memories
+and aspirations which are as strong as passions.  In his earlier years,
+when he had been put to hard shifts for existence, he had found no
+leisure for close and brooding reflection upon that spoliation of just
+rights--that calumny upon his mother's name, which had first brought the
+Night into his Morning.  His resentment towards the Beauforts, it is
+true, had ever been an intense but a fitful and irregular passion.  It
+was exactly in proportion as, by those rare and romantic incidents which
+Fiction cannot invent, and which Narrative takes with diffidence from the
+great Store-house of Real Life, his steps had ascended in the social
+ladder--that all which his childhood had lost--all which the robbers of
+his heritage had gained, the grandeur and the power of WEALTH--above all,
+the hourly and the tranquil happiness of a stainless name, became
+palpable and distinct.  He had loved Eugenie as a boy loves for the first
+time an accomplished woman.  He regarded her, so refined--so gentle--so
+gifted, with the feelings due to a superior being, with an eternal
+recollection of the ministering angel that had shone upon him when he
+stood on the dark abyss.  She was the first that had redeemed his fate--
+the first that had guided aright his path--the first that had tamed the
+savage at his breast:--it was the young lion charmed by the eyes of Una.
+The outline of his story had been truly given at Lord Lilburne's.
+Despite his pride, which revolted from such obligations to another, and a
+woman--which disliked and struggled against a disguise which at once and
+alone saved him from the detection of the past and the terrors of the
+future--he had yielded to her, the wise and the gentle, as one whose
+judgment he could not doubt; and, indeed, the slanderous falsehoods
+circulated by the lackey, to whose discretion, the night of Gawtrey's
+death, Eugenie had preferred to confide her own honour, rather than
+another's life, had (as Liancourt rightly stated) left Philip no option
+but that which Madame de Merville deemed the best, whether for her
+happiness or her good name.  Then had followed a brief season--the
+holiday of his life--the season of young hope and passion, of brilliancy
+and joy, closing by that abrupt death which again left him lonely in the
+world.
+
+When, from the grief that succeeded to the death of Eugenie, he woke to
+find himself amidst the strange faces and exciting scenes of an Oriental
+court, he turned with hard and disgustful contempt from Pleasure, as an
+infidelity to the dead.  Ambition crept over him--his mind hardened as
+his cheek bronzed under those burning suns--his hardy frame, his energies
+prematurely awakened, his constitutional disregard to danger,--made him
+a brave and skilful soldier.  He acquired reputation and rank.  But, as
+time went on, the ambition took a higher flight--he felt his sphere
+circumscribed; the Eastern indolence that filled up the long intervals
+between Eastern action chafed a temper never at rest: he returned to
+France: his reputation, Liancourt's friendship, and the relations of
+Eugenie--grateful, as has before been implied, for the generosity with
+which he surrendered the principal part of her donation--opened for him a
+new career, but one painful and galling.  In the Indian court there was
+no question of his birth--one adventurer was equal with the rest.  But in
+Paris, a man attempting to rise provoked all the sarcasm of wit, all the
+cavils of party; and in polished and civil life, what valour has weapons
+against a jest?  Thus, in civilisation, all the passions that spring from
+humiliated self-love and baffled aspiration again preyed upon his breast.
+He saw, then, that the more he struggled from obscurity, the more acute
+would become research into his true origin; and his writhing pride almost
+stung to death his ambition.  To succeed in life by regular means was
+indeed difficult for this man; always recoiling from the name he bore--
+always strong in the hope yet to regain that to which he conceived
+himself entitled--cherishing that pride of country which never deserts
+the native of a Free State, however harsh a parent she may have proved;
+and, above all, whatever his ambition and his passions, taking, from the
+very misfortunes he had known, an indomitable belief in the ultimate
+justice of Heaven;--he had refused to sever the last ties that connected
+him with his lost heritage and his forsaken land--he refused to be
+naturalised--to make the name he bore legally undisputed--he was
+contented to be an alien.  Neither was Vaudemont fitted exactly for that
+crisis in the social world when the men of journals and talk bustle aside
+the men of action.  He had not cultivated literature, he had no book-
+knowledge--the world had been his school, and stern life his teacher.
+Still, eminently skilled in those physical accomplishments which men
+admire and soldiers covet, calm and self-possessed in manner, of great
+personal advantages, of much ready talent and of practised observation in
+character, he continued to breast the obstacles around him, and to
+establish himself in the favour of those in power.  It was natural to a
+person so reared and circumstanced to have no sympathy with what is
+called the popular cause.  He was no citizen in the state--he was a
+stranger in the land.  He had suffered and still suffered too much from
+mankind to have that philanthropy, sometimes visionary but always noble,
+which, in fact, generally springs from the studies we cultivate, not in
+the forum, but the closet.  Men, alas!  too often lose the Democratic
+Enthusiasm in proportion as they find reason to suspect or despise their
+kind.  And if there were not hopes for the Future, which this hard,
+practical daily life does not suffice to teach us, the vision and the
+glory that belong to the Great Popular Creed, dimmed beneath the
+injustice, the follies, and the vices of the world as it is, would fade
+into the lukewarm sectarianism of temporary Party.  Moreover, Vaudemont's
+habits of thought and reasoning were those of the camp, confirmed by the
+systems familiar to him in the East: he regarded the populace as a
+soldier enamoured of discipline and order usually does.  His theories,
+therefore, or rather his ignorance of what is sound in theory, went with
+Charles the Tenth in his excesses, but not with the timidity which
+terminated those excesses by dethronement and disgrace.  Chafed to the
+heart, gnawed with proud grief, he obeyed the royal mandates, and
+followed the exiled monarch: his hopes overthrown, his career in France
+annihilated forever.  But on entering England, his temper, confident and
+ready of resource, fastened itself on new food.  In the land where he had
+no name he might yet rebuild his fortunes.  It was an arduous effort--an
+improbable hope; but the words heard by the bridge of Paris--words that
+had often cheered him in his exile through hardships and through dangers
+which it is unnecessary to our narrative to detail--yet rung again in his
+ear, as he leaped on his native land,--"Time, Faith, Energy."
+
+While such his character in the larger and more distant relations of
+life, in the closer circles of companionship many rare and noble
+qualities were visible.  It is true that he was stern, perhaps imperious
+--of a temper that always struggled for command; but he was deeply
+susceptible of kindness, and, if feared by those who opposed, loved by
+those who served him.  About his character was that mixture of tenderness
+and fierceness which belonged, of old, to the descriptions of the
+warrior.  Though so little unlettered, Life had taught him a certain
+poetry of sentiment and idea--More poetry, perhaps, in the silent
+thoughts that, in his happier moments, filled his solitude, than in half
+the pages that his brother had read and written by the dreaming lake.  A
+certain largeness of idea and nobility of impulse often made him act the
+sentiments of which bookmen write.  With all his passions, he held
+licentiousness in disdain; with all his ambition for the power of wealth,
+he despised its luxury.  Simple, masculine, severe, abstemious, he was of
+that mould in which, in earlier times, the successful men of action have
+been cast.  But to successful action, circumstance is more necessary than
+to triumphant study.
+
+It was to be expected that, in proportion as he had been familiar with
+a purer and nobler life, he should look with great and deep self-
+humiliation at his early association with Gawtrey.  He was in this
+respect more severe on himself than any other mind ordinarily just and
+candid would have been,--when fairly surveying the circumstances of
+penury, hunger, and despair, which had driven him to Gawtrey's roof, the
+imperfect nature of his early education, the boyish trust and affection
+he had felt for his protector, and his own ignorance of, and exemption
+from, all the worst practices of that unhappy criminal.  But still, when,
+with the knowledge he had now acquired, the man looked calmly back, his
+cheek burned with remorseful shame at his unreflecting companionship in a
+life of subterfuge and equivocation, the true nature of which, the boy
+(so circumstanced as we have shown him) might be forgiven for not at that
+time comprehending.  Two advantages resulted, however, from the error and
+the remorse: first, the humiliation it brought curbed, in some measure,
+a pride that might otherwise have been arrogant and unamiable, and,
+secondly, as I have before intimated, his profound gratitude to Heaven
+for his deliverance from the snares that had beset his youth gave his
+future the guide of an earnest and heartfelt faith.  He acknowledged in
+life no such thing as accident.  Whatever his struggles, whatever his
+melancholy, whatever his sense of worldly wrong, he never despaired; for
+nothing now could shake his belief in one directing Providence.
+
+The ways and habits of Vaudemont were not at discord with those of the
+quiet household in which he was now a guest.  Like most men of strong
+frames, and accustomed to active, not studious pursuits, he rose early;
+--and usually rode to London, to come back late at noon to their frugal
+meal.  And if again, perhaps after the hour when Fanny and Simon retired,
+he would often return to London, his own pass-key re-admitted him, at
+whatever time he came back, without disturbing the sleep of the
+household.  Sometimes, when the sun began to decline, if the air was
+warm, the old man would crawl out, leaning on that strong arm, through
+the neighbouring lanes, ever returning through the lonely burial-ground;
+or when the blind host clung to his fireside, and composed himself to
+sleep, Philip would saunter forth along with Fanny; and on the days when
+she went to sell her work, or select her purchases, he always made a
+point of attending her.  And her cheek wore a flush of pride when she saw
+him carrying her little basket, or waiting without, in musing patience,
+while she performed her commissions in the shops.  Though in reality
+Fanny's intellect was ripening within, yet still the surface often misled
+the eye as to the depths.  It was rather that something yet held back the
+faculties from their growth than that the faculties themselves were
+wanting.  Her weakness was more of the nature of the infant's than of one
+afflicted with incurable imbecility.  For instance, she managed the
+little household with skill and prudence; she could calculate in her
+head, as rapidly as Vaudemont himself, the arithmetic necessary to her
+simple duties; she knew the value of money, which is more than some of us
+wise folk do.  Her skill, even in her infancy so remarkable, in various
+branches of female handiwork, was carried, not only by perseverance, but
+by invention and peculiar talent, to a marvellous and exquisite
+perfection.  Her embroidery, especially in what was then more rare than
+at present, viz., flowers on silk, was much in request among the great
+modistes of London, to whom it found its way through the agency of Miss
+Semper.  So that all this had enabled her, for years, to provide every
+necessary comfort of life for herself and her blind protector.  And her
+care for the old man was beautiful in its minuteness, its vigilance.
+Wherever her heart was interested, there never seemed a deficiency of
+mind.  Vaudemont was touched to see how much of affectionate and pitying
+respect she appeared to enjoy in the neighbourhood, especially among the
+humbler classes--even the beggar who swept the crossings did not beg of
+her, but bade God bless her as she passed; and the rude, discontented
+artisan would draw himself from the wall and answer, with a softened
+brow, the smile with which the harmless one charmed his courtesy.  In
+fact, whatever attraction she took from her youth, her beauty, her
+misfortune, and her affecting industry, was heightened, in the eyes of
+the poorer neighbours, by many little traits of charity and kindness;
+many a sick child had she tended, and many a breadless board had stolen
+something from the stock set aside for her father's grave.
+
+"Don't you think," she once whispered to Vaudemont, "that God attends to
+us more if we are good to those who are sick and hungry?"
+
+"Certainly we are taught to think so."
+
+"Well, I'll tell you a secret--don't tell again.  Grandpapa once said
+that my father had done bad things; now, if Fanny is good to those she
+can help, I think that God will hear her more kindly when she prays him
+to forgive what her father did.  Do you think so too?  Do say--you are
+so wise!"
+
+"Fanny, you are wiser than all of us; and I feel myself better and
+happier when I hear you speak."
+
+There were, indeed, many moments when Vaudemont thought that her
+deficiencies of intellect might have been repaired, long since, by
+skilful culture and habitual companionship with those of her own age;
+from which companionship, however, Fanny, even when at school, had shrunk
+aloof.  At other moments there was something so absent and distracted
+about her, or so fantastic and incoherent, that Vaudemont, with the man's
+hard, worldly eye, read in it nothing but melancholy confusion.
+Nevertheless, if the skein of ideas was entangled, each thread in itself
+was a thread of gold.
+
+Fanny's great object--her great ambition--her one hope--was a tomb for
+her supposed father.  Whether from some of that early religion attached
+to the grave, which is most felt in Catholic countries, and which she had
+imbibed at the convent; or from her residence so near the burial ground,
+and the affection with which she regarded the spot;--whatever the cause,
+she had cherished for some years, as young maidens usually cherish the
+desire of the Altar--the dream of the Gravestone.  But the hoard was
+amassed so slowly;--now old Gawtrey was attacked by illness;--now there
+was some little difficulty in the rent; now some fluctuation in the price
+of work; and now, and more often than all, some demand on her charity,
+which interfered with, and drew from, the pious savings.  This was a
+sentiment in which her new friend sympathised deeply; for he, too,
+remembered that his first gold had bought that humble stone which still
+preserved upon the earth the memory of his mother.
+
+Meanwhile, days crept on, and no new violence was offered to Fanny.
+Vaudemont learned, then, by little and little--and Fanny's account was
+very confused--the nature of the danger she had run.
+
+It seemed that one day, tempted by the fineness of the weather up the
+road that led from the suburb farther into the country, Fanny was stopped
+by a gentleman in a carriage, who accosted her, as she said, very kindly:
+and after several questions, which she answered with her usual
+unsuspecting innocence, learned her trade, insisted on purchasing some
+articles of work which she had at the moment in her basket, and promised
+to procure her a constant purchaser, upon much better terms than she had
+hitherto obtained, if she would call at the house of a Mrs. West, about a
+mile from the suburb towards London.  This she promised to do, and this
+she did, according to the address he gave her.  She was admitted to a
+lady more gaily dressed than Fanny had ever seen a lady before,--the
+gentleman was also present,--they both loaded her with compliments, and
+bought her work at a price which seemed about to realise all the hopes of
+the poor girl as to the gravestone for William Gawtrey,--as if his evil
+fate pursued that wild man beyond the grave, and his very tomb was to be
+purchased by the gold of the polluter!  The lady then appointed her to
+call again; but, meanwhile, she met Fanny in the streets, and while she
+was accosting her, it fortunately chanced that Miss Semper the milliner
+passed that way--turned round, looked hard at the lady, used very angry
+language to her, seized Fanny's hand, led her away while the lady slunk
+off; and told her that the said lady was a very bad woman, and that Fanny
+must never speak to her again.  Fanny most cheerfully promised this.
+And, in fact, the lady, probably afraid, whether of the mob or the
+magistrates, never again came near her.
+
+"And," said Fanny, "I gave the money they had both given to me to Miss
+Semper, who said she would send it back."
+
+"You did right, Fanny; and as you made one promise to Miss Semper, so you
+must make me one--never to stir from home again without me or some other
+person.  No, no other person--only me.  I will give up everything else to
+go with you."
+
+"Will you?  Oh, yes.  I promise!  I used to like going alone, but that
+was before you came, brother."
+
+And as Fanny kept her promise, it would have been a bold gallant indeed
+who would have ventured to molest her by the side of that stately and
+strong protector.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+          "Timon.  Each thing's a thief
+          The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
+          Have unchecked theft.
+
+          The sweet degrees that this brief world affords,
+          To such as may the passive drugs of it
+          Freely command."--_Timon of Athens_.
+
+On the day and at the hour fixed for the interview with the stranger who
+had visited Mr. Beaufort, Lord Lilburne was seated in the library of his
+brother-in-law; and before the elbow-chair, on which he lolled
+carelessly, stood our old friend Mr. Sharp, of Bow Street notability.
+
+"Mr. Sharp," said the peer, "I have sent for you to do me a little
+favour.  I expect a man here who professes to give Mr. Beaufort, my
+brother-in-law, some information about a lawsuit.  It is necessary to
+know the exact value of his evidence.  I wish you to ascertain all
+particulars about him.  Be so good as to seat yourself in the porter's
+chair in the hall; note him when he enters, unobserved yourself--but as
+he is probably a stranger to you, note him still more when he leaves the
+house; follow him at a distance; find out where he lives, whom he
+associates with, where he visits, their names and directions, what his
+character and calling are;--in a word, everything you can, and report to
+me each evening.  Dog him well, never lose sight of him--you will be
+handsomely paid.  You understand?"
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Sharp, "leave me alone, my lord.  Been employed before by
+your lordship's brother-in-law.  We knows what's what."
+
+"I don't doubt it.  To your post--I expect him every moment."
+
+And, in fact, Mr. Sharp had only just ensconced himself in the porter's
+chair when the stranger knocked at the door--in another moment he was
+shown in to Lord Lilburne.
+
+"Sir," said his lordship, without rising, "be so good as to take a chair.
+Mr. Beaufort is obliged to leave town--he has asked me to see you--I am
+one of his family--his wife is my sister--you may be as frank with me as
+with him,--more so, perhaps."
+
+"I beg the fauvour of your name, sir," said the stranger, adjusting his
+collar.
+
+"Yours first--business is business."
+
+"Well, then, Captain Smith."
+
+"Of what regiment?"
+
+"Half-pay."
+
+"I am Lord Lilburne.  Your name is Smith--humph!" added the peer, looking
+over some notes before him.  "I see it is also the name of the witness
+appealed to by Mrs. Morton--humph!"
+
+At this remark, and still more at the look which accompanied it, the
+countenance, before impudent and complacent, of Captain Smith fell into
+visible embarrassment; he cleared his throat and said, with a little
+hesitation,--
+
+"My lord, that witness is living!"
+
+"No doubt of it--witnesses never die where property is concerned and
+imposture intended."
+
+At this moment the servant entered, and placed a little note, quaintly
+folded, before Lord Lilburne.  He glanced at it in surprise--opened, and
+read as follows, in pencil,--
+
+"My LORD,--I knows the man; take caer of him; he is as big a roge as ever
+stept; he was transported some three year back, and unless his time has
+been shortened by the Home, he's absent without leve.  We used to call
+him Dashing Jerry.  That ere youngster we went arter, by Mr. Bofort's
+wish, was a pall of his.  Scuze the liberty I take.
+                                                     "J.  SHARP."
+
+While Lord Lilburne held this effusion to the candle, and spelled his way
+through it, Captain Smith, recovering his self-composure, thus proceeded:
+
+"Imposture, my lord! imposture!  I really don't understand.  Your
+lordship really seems so suspicious, that it is quite uncomfortable.  I
+am sure it is all the same to me; and if Mr. Beaufort does not think
+proper to see me himself, why I'd best make my bow."
+
+And Captain Smith rose.
+
+"Stay a moment, sir.  What Mr. Beaufort may yet do, I cannot say; but I
+know this, you stand charged of a very grave offence, and if your witness
+or witnesses--you may have fifty, for what I care--are equally guilty, so
+much the worse for them."
+
+"My lord, I really don't comprehend."
+
+"Then I will be more plain.  I accuse you of devising an infamous
+falsehood for the purpose of extorting money.  Let your witnesses appear
+in court, and I promise that you, they, and the young man, Mr. Morton,
+whose claim they set up, shall be indicted for conspiracy--conspiracy, if
+accompanied (as in the case of your witnesses) with perjury, of the
+blackest die.  Mr. Smith, I know you; and, before ten o'clock to-morrow,
+I shall know also if you had his majesty's leave to quit the colonies!
+Ah! I am plain enough now, I see."
+
+And Lord Lilburne threw himself back in his chair, and coldly
+contemplated the white face and dismayed expression of the crestfallen
+captain.  That most worthy person, after a pause of confusion, amaze, and
+fear, made an involuntary stride, with a menacing gesture, towards
+Lilburne; the peer quietly placed his hand on the bell.
+
+"One moment more," said the latter; "if I ring this bell, it is to place
+you in custody.  Let Mr. Beaufort but see you here once again--nay, let
+him but hear another word of this pretended lawsuit--and you return to
+the colonies.  Pshaw!  Frown not at me, sir!  A Bow Street officer is in
+the hall.  Begone!--no, stop one moment, and take a lesson in life.
+Never again attempt to threaten people of property and station.  Around
+every rich man is a wall--better not run your head against it."
+
+"But I swear solemnly," cried the knave, with an emphasis so startling
+that it carried with it the appearance of truth, "that the marriage did
+take place."
+
+"And I say, no less solemnly, that any one who swears it in a court of
+law shall be prosecuted for perjury!  Bah! you are a sorry rogue, after
+all!"
+
+And with an air of supreme and half-compassionate contempt, Lord Lilburne
+turned away and stirred the fire.  Captain Smith muttered and fumbled a
+moment with his gloves, then shrugged his shoulders and sneaked out.
+
+That night Lord Lilburne again received his friends, and amongst his
+guests came Vaudemont.  Lilburne was one who liked the study of
+character, especially the character of men wrestling against the world.
+Wholly free from every species of ambition, he seemed to reconcile
+himself to his apathy by examining into the disquietude, the
+mortification, the heart's wear and tear, which are the lot of the
+ambitious.  Like the spider in his hole, he watched with hungry pleasure
+the flies struggling in the web; through whose slimy labyrinth he walked
+with an easy safety.  Perhaps one reason why he loved gaming was less
+from the joy of winning than the philosophical complacency with which he
+feasted on the emotions of those who lost; always serene, and, except in
+debauch, always passionless,--Majendie, tracing the experiments of
+science in the agonies of some tortured dog, could not be more rapt in
+the science, and more indifferent to the dog, than Lord Lilburne, ruining
+a victim, in the analysis of human passions,--stoical in the writhings of
+the wretch whom he tranquilly dissected.  He wished to win money of
+Vaudemont--to ruin this man, who presumed to be more generous than other
+people--to see a bold adventurer submitted to the wheel of the Fortune
+which reigns in a pack of cards;--and all, of course, without the least
+hate to the man whom he then saw for the first time.  On the contrary, he
+felt a respect for Vaudemont.  Like most worldly men, Lord Lilburne was
+prepossessed in favour of those who seek to rise in life: and like men
+who have excelled in manly and athletic exercises, he was also
+prepossessed in favour of those who appeared fitted for the same success.
+
+Liancourt took aside his friend, as Lord Lilburne was talking with his
+other guests:--
+
+"I need not caution you, who never play, not to commit yourself to Lord
+Lilburne's tender mercies; remember, he is an admirable player."
+
+"Nay," answered Vaudemont, "I want to know this man: I have reasons,
+which alone induce me to enter his house.  I can afford to venture
+something, because I wish to see if I can gain something for one dear to
+me.  And for the rest (he muttered)--I know him too well not to be on my
+guard."  With that he joined Lord Lilburne's group, and accepted the
+invitation to the card-table.  At supper, Vaudemont conversed more than
+was habitual to him; he especially addressed himself to his host, and
+listened, with great attention, to Lilburne's caustic comments upon every
+topic successively started.  And whether it was the art of De Vaudemont,
+or from an interest that Lord Lilburne took in studying what was to him a
+new character,--or whether that, both men excelling peculiarly in all
+masculine accomplishments, their conversation was of a nature that was
+more attractive to themselves than to others; it so happened that they
+were still talking while the daylight already peered through the window-
+curtains.
+
+"And I have outstayed all your guests," said De Vaudemont, glancing round
+the emptied room.
+
+"It is the best compliment you could pay me.  Another night we can
+enliven our _tete-a-tete_ with _ecarte_; though at your age, and with
+your appearance, I am surprised, Monsieur de Vaudemont, that you are fond
+of play: I should have thought that it was not in a pack of cards that
+you looked for hearts.  But perhaps you are _blaze_ betimes of the _beau
+sexe_."
+
+"Yet your lordship's devotion to it is, perhaps, as great now as ever?"
+
+"Mine?--no, not as ever.  To different ages different degrees.  At your
+age I wooed; at mine I purchase--the better plan of the two: it does not
+take up half so much time."
+
+"Your marriage, I think, Lord Lilburne, was not blessed with children.
+Perhaps sometimes you feel the want of them?"
+
+"If I did, I could have them by the dozen.  Other ladies have been more
+generous in that department than the late Lady Lilburne, Heaven rest
+her!"
+
+"And," said Vaudemont, fixing his eyes with some earnestness on his host,
+"if you were really persuaded that you had a child, or perhaps a
+grandchild--the mother one whom you loved in your first youth--a child
+affectionate, beautiful, and especially needing your care and protection,
+would you not suffer that child, though illegitimate, to supply to you
+the want of filial affection?"
+
+"Filial affection, _mon cher_!" repeated Lord Lilburne, "needing my care
+and protection!  Pshaw!  In other words, would I give board and lodging
+to some young vagabond who was good enough to say he was son to Lord
+Lilburne?"
+
+"But if you were convinced that the claimant were your son, or perhaps
+your daughter--a tenderer name of the two, and a more helpless claimant?"
+
+"My dear Monsieur de Vaudemont, you are doubtless a man of gallantry and
+of the world.  If the children whom the law forces on one are, nine times
+out of ten, such damnable plagues, judge if one would father those whom
+the law permits us to disown!  Natural children are the pariahs of the
+world, and I--am one of the Brahmans."
+
+"But," persisted Vaudemont, "forgive me if I press the question farther.
+Perhaps I seek from your wisdom a guide to my own conduct;--suppose,
+then, a man had loved, had wronged, the mother;--suppose that in the
+child he saw one who, without his aid, might be exposed to every curse
+with which the pariahs (true, the pariahs!) of the world are too often
+visited, and who with his aid might become, as age advanced, his
+companion, his nurse, his comforter--"
+
+"Tush!" interrupted Lilburne, with some impatience; "I know not how our
+conversation fell on such a topic--but if you really ask my opinion in
+reference to any case in practical life, you shall have it.  Look you,
+then Monsieur de Vaudemont, no man has studied the art of happiness more
+than I have; and I will tell you the great secret--have as few ties as
+possible.  Nurse!--pooh! you or I could hire one by the week a thousand
+times more useful and careful than a bore of a child.  Comforter!--a man
+of mind never wants comfort.  And there is no such thing as sorrow while
+we have health and money, and don't care a straw for anybody in the
+world.  If you choose to love people, their health and circumstances, if
+either go wrong, can fret you: that opens many avenues to pain.  Never
+live alone, but always feel alone.  You think this unamiable: possibly.
+I am no hypocrite, and, for my part, I never affect to be anything but
+what I am--John Lilburne."
+
+As the peer thus spoke, Vaudemont, leaning against the door, contemplated
+him with a strange mixture of interest and disgust.  "And John Lilburne
+is thought a great man, and William Gawtrey was a great rogue.  You don't
+conceal your heart?--no, I understand.  Wealth and power have no need of
+hypocrisy: you are the man of vice--Gawtrey, the man of crime.  You never
+sin against the law--he was a felon by his trade.  And the felon saved
+from vice the child, and from want the grandchild (Your flesh and blood)
+whom you disown: which will Heaven consider the worse man?  No, poor
+Fanny, I see I am wrong.  If he would own you, I would not give you up to
+the ice of such a soul:--better the blind man than the dead heart!"
+
+"Well, Lord Lilburne," said De Vaudemont aloud, shaking off his reverie,
+"I must own that your philosophy seems to me the wisest for yourself.
+For a poor man it might be different--the poor need affection."
+
+"Ay, the poor, certainly," said Lord Lilburne, with an air of patronising
+candour.
+
+"And I will own farther," continued De Vaudemont, "that I have willingly
+lost my money in return for the instruction I have received in hearing
+you converse."
+
+"You are kind: come and take your revenge next Thursday.  Adieu."
+
+As Lord Lilburne undressed, and his valet attended him, he said to that
+worthy functionary,--
+
+"So you have not been able to make out the name of the stranger--the new
+lodger you tell me of?"
+
+"No, my lord.  They only say he is a very fine-looking man."
+
+"You have not seen him?"
+
+"No, my lord.  What do you wish me now to do?"
+
+"Humph!  Nothing at this moment!  You manage things so badly, you might
+get me into a scrape.  I never do anything which the law or the police,
+or even the news papers, can get hold of.  I must think of some other
+way--humph!  I never give up what I once commence, and I never fail in
+what I undertake!  If life had been worth what fools trouble it with--
+business and ambition--I suppose I should have been a great man with a
+very bad liver--ha ha!  I alone, of all the world, ever found out what
+the world was good for!  Draw the curtains, Dykeman."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+          "_Org._  Welcome, thou ice that sitt'st about _his_ heart
+          No heat can ever thaw thee!"--FORD: _Broken Heart_.
+
+          "_Nearch._  Honourable infamy!"--Ibid.
+
+          "_Amye._  Her tenderness hath yet deserved no rigour,
+          So to be crossed by fate!"
+
+          "_Arm._  You misapply, sir,
+          With favour let me speak it, what Apollo
+          Hath clouded in dim sense!"--Ibid.
+
+If Vaudemont had fancied that, considering the age and poverty of Simon,
+it was his duty to see whether Fanny's not more legal, but more natural
+protector were, indeed, the unredeemed and unmalleable egotist which
+Gawtrey had painted him, the conversation of one night was sufficient to
+make him abandon for ever the notion of advancing her claims upon Lord
+Lilburne.  But Philip had another motive in continuing his acquaintance
+with that personage.  The sight of his mother's grave had recalled to him
+the image of that lost brother over whom he had vowed to watch.  And,
+despite the deep sense of wronged affection with which he yet remembered
+the cruel letter that had contained the last tidings of Sidney, Philip's
+heart clung with undying fondness to that fair shape associated with all
+the happy recollections of childhood; and his conscience as well as his
+love asked him, each time that he passed the churchyard, "Will you make
+no effort to obey that last prayer of the mother who consigned her
+darling to your charge?"  Perhaps, had Philip been in want, or had the
+name he now bore been sullied by his conduct, he might have shrunk from
+seeking one whom he might injure, but could not serve.  But though not
+rich, he had more than enough for tastes as hardy and simple as any to
+which soldier of fortune ever limited his desires.  And he thought, with
+a sentiment of just and noble pride, that the name which Eugenie had
+forced upon him had been borne spotless as the ermine through the trials
+and vicissitudes he had passed since he had assumed it.  Sidney could
+give him nothing, and therefore it was his duty to seek Sidney out.  Now,
+he had always believed in his heart that the Beauforts were acquainted
+with a secret which he more and more pined to penetrate.  He would, for
+Sidney's sake, smother his hate to the Beauforts; he would not reject
+their acquaintance if thrown in his way; nay, secure in his change of
+name and his altered features, from all suspicion on their part, he
+would seek that acquaintance in order to find his brother and fulfil
+Catherine's last commands.  His intercourse with Lilburne would
+necessarily bring him easily into contact with Lilburne's family.  And in
+this thought he did not reject the invitations pressed on him.  He felt,
+too, a dark and absorbing interest in examining a man who was in himself
+the incarnation of the World--the World of Art--the World as the Preacher
+paints it--the hollow, sensual, sharp-witted, self-wrapped WORLD--the
+World that is all for this life, and thinks of no Future and no God!
+
+Lord Lilburne was, indeed, a study for deep contemplation.  A study to
+perplex the ordinary thinker, and task to the utmost the analysis of more
+profound reflection.  William Gawtrey had possessed no common talents; he
+had discovered that his life had been one mistake; Lord Lilburne's
+intellect was far keener than Gawtrey's, and he had never made, and if he
+had lived to the age of Old Parr, never would have made a similar
+discovery.  He never wrestled against a law, though he slipped through
+all laws!  And he knew no remorse, for he knew no fear.  Lord Lilburne
+had married early, and long survived, a lady of fortune, the daughter of
+the then Premier--the best match, in fact, of his day.  And for one very
+brief period of his life he had suffered himself to enter into the field
+of politics the only ambition common with men of equal rank.  He showed
+talents that might have raised one so gifted by circumstance to any
+height, and then retired at once into his old habits and old system of
+pleasure.  "I wished to try," said he once, "if fame was worth one
+headache, and I have convinced myself that the man who can sacrifice the
+bone in his mouth to the shadow of the bone in the water is a fool."
+From that time he never attended the House of Lords, and declared himself
+of no political opinions one way or the other.  Nevertheless, the world
+had a general belief in his powers, and Vaudemont reluctantly subscribed
+to the world's verdict.  Yet he had done nothing, he had read but little,
+he laughed at the world to its face,--and that last was, after all, the
+main secret of his ascendancy over those who were drawn into his circle.
+That contempt of the world placed the world at his feet.  His sardonic
+and polished indifference, his professed code that there was no life
+worth caring for but his own life, his exemption from all cant,
+prejudice, and disguise, the frigid lubricity with which he glided out of
+the grasp of the Conventional, whenever it so pleased him, without
+shocking the Decorums whose sense is in their ear, and who are not roused
+by the deed but by the noise,--all this had in it the marrow and essence
+of a system triumphant with the vulgar; for little minds give importance
+to the man who gives importance to nothing.  Lord Lilburne's authority,
+not in matters of taste alone, but in those which the world calls
+judgment and common sense, was regarded as an oracle.  He cared not a
+straw for the ordinary baubles that attract his order; he had refused
+both an earldom and the garter, and this was often quoted in his honour.
+But you only try a man's virtue when you offer him something that he
+covets.  The earldom and the garter were to Lord Lilburne no more
+tempting inducements than a doll or a skipping-rope; had you offered him
+an infallible cure for the gout, or an antidote against old age, you
+might have hired him as your lackey on your own terms.  Lord Lilburne's
+next heir was the son of his only brother, a person entirely dependent on
+his uncle.  Lord Lilburne allowed him L1000. a year and kept him always
+abroad in a diplomatic situation.  He looked upon his successor as a man
+who wanted power, but not inclination, to become his assassin.
+
+Though he lived sumptuously and grudged himself nothing, Lord Lilburne
+was far from an extravagant man; he might, indeed, be considered close;
+for he knew how much of comfort and consideration he owed to his money,
+and valued it accordingly; he knew the best speculations and the best
+investments.  If he took shares in an American canal, you might be sure
+that the shares would soon be double in value;  if he purchased an
+estate, you might be certain it was a bargain.  This pecuniary tact and
+success necessarily augmented his fame for wisdom.
+
+He had been in early life a successful gambler, and some suspicions of
+his fair play had been noised abroad; but, as has been recently seen in
+the instance of a man of rank equal to Lilburne's, though, perhaps, of
+less acute if more cultivated intellect, it is long before the pigeon
+will turn round upon a falcon of breed and mettle.  The rumours, indeed,
+were so vague as to carry with them no weight.  During the middle of his
+career, when in the full flush of health and fortune, he had renounced
+the gaming-table.  Of late years, as advancing age made time more heavy,
+he had resumed the resource, and with all his former good luck.  The
+money-market, the table, the sex, constituted the other occupations and
+amusements with which Lord Lilburne filled up his rosy leisure.
+
+Another way by which this man had acquired reputation for ability was
+this,--he never pretended to any branch of knowledge of which he was
+ignorant, any more than to any virtue in which he was deficient.  Honesty
+itself was never more free from quackery or deception than was this
+embodied and walking Vice.  If the world chose to esteem him, he did not
+buy its opinion by imposture.  No man ever saw Lord Lilburne's name in a
+public subscription, whether for a new church, or a Bible Society, or a
+distressed family, no man ever heard of his doing one generous,
+benevolent, or kindly action,--no man was ever startled by one
+philanthropic, pious, or amiable sentiment from those mocking lips.  Yet,
+in spite of all this, John Lord Lilburne was not only esteemed but liked
+by the world, and set up in the chair of its Rhadamanthuses.  In a word,
+he seemed to Vaudemont, and he was so in reality, a brilliant example of
+the might of Circumstance--an instance of what may be done in the way of
+reputation and influence by a rich, well-born man to whom the will a
+kingdom is.  A little of genius, and Lord Lilburne would have made his
+vices notorious and his deficiencies glaring; a little of heart, and his
+habits would have led him into countless follies and discreditable
+scrapes.  It was the lead and the stone that he carried about him that
+preserved his equilibrium, no matter which way the breeze blew.  But all
+his qualities, positive or negative, would have availed him nothing
+without that position which enabled him to take his ease in that inn, the
+world--which presented, to every detection of his want of intrinsic
+nobleness, the irreproachable respectability of a high name, a splendid
+mansion, and a rent-roll without a flaw.  Vaudemont drew comparisons
+between Lilburne and Gawtrey, and he comprehended at last, why one was a
+low rascal and the other a great man.
+
+Although it was but a few days after their first introduction to each
+other, Vaudemont had been twice to Lord Lilburne's, and their
+acquaintance was already on an easy footing--when one afternoon as the
+former was riding through the streets towards H----,  he met the peer
+mounted on a stout cob, which, from its symmetrical strength, pure
+English breed, and exquisite grooming, showed something of those sporting
+tastes for which, in earlier life, Lord Lilburne had been noted.
+
+"Why, Monsieur de Vaudemont, what brings you to this part of the town?--
+curiosity and the desire to explore?"
+
+"That might be natural enough in me; but you, who know London so well;
+rather what brings you here?"
+
+"Why I am returned from a long ride.  I have had symptoms of a fit of the
+gout, and been trying to keep it off by exercise.  I have been to a
+cottage that belongs to me, some miles from the town--a pretty place
+enough, by the way--you must come and see me there next month.  I shall
+fill the house for a battue!  I have some tolerable covers--you are a
+good shot, I suppose?"
+
+"I have not practised, except with a rifle, for some years."
+
+"That's a pity; for as I think a week's shooting once a year quite
+enough, I fear that your visit to me at Fernside may not be sufficiently
+long to put your hand in."
+
+"Fernside!"
+
+"Yes; is the name familiar to you?"
+
+"I think I have heard it before.  Did your lordship purchase or inherit
+it?"
+
+"I bought it of my brother-in-law.  It belonged to his brother--a gay,
+wild sort of fellow, who broke his neck over a six-barred gate; through
+that gate my friend Robert walked the same day into a very fine estate!"
+
+"I have heard so.  The late Mr. Beaufort, then, left no children?"
+
+"Yes; two.  But they came into the world in the primitive way in which
+Mr. Owen wishes us all to come--too naturally for the present state of
+society, and Mr. Owen's parallelogram was not ready for them.  By the
+way, one of them disappeared at Paris;-you never met with him, I
+suppose?"
+
+"Under what name?"
+
+"Morton."
+
+"Morton! hem!  What Christian name?"
+
+"Philip."
+
+"Philip! no.  But did Mr. Beaufort do nothing for the young men?  I think
+I have heard somewhere that he took compassion on one of them."
+
+"Have you?  Ah, my brother-in-law is precisely one of those excellent men
+of whom the world always speaks well.  No; he would very willingly have
+served either or both the boys, but the mother refused all his overtures
+and went to law, I fancy.  The elder of these bastards turned out a sad
+fellow, and the younger,--I don't know exactly where he is, but no doubt
+with one of his mother's relations.  You seem to interest yourself in
+natural children, my dear Vaudemont?"
+
+"Perhaps you have heard that people have doubted if I were a natural
+son?"
+
+"Ah! I understand now.  But are you going?--I was in hopes you would have
+turned back my way, and--"
+
+"You are very good; but I have a particular appointment, and I am now too
+late.  Good morning, Lord Lilburne."  Sidney with one of his mother's
+relations!  Returned, perhaps, to the Mortons!  How had he never before
+chanced on a conjecture so probable?  He would go at once!--that very
+night he would go to the house from which he had taken his brother.  At
+least, and at the worst, they might give him some clue.
+
+Buoyed with this hope and this resolve, he rode hastily to H-----, to
+announce to Simon and Fanny that he should not return to them, perhaps,
+for two or three days.  As he entered the suburb, he drew up by the
+statuary of whom he had purchased his mother's gravestone.
+
+The artist of the melancholy trade was at work in his yard.
+
+"Ho! there!"  said Vaudemont, looking over the low railing; "is the tomb
+I have ordered nearly finished?"  Why, sir, as you were so anxious for
+despatch, and as it would take a long time to get a new one ready, I
+thought of giving you this, which is finished all but the inscription.
+It was meant for Miss Deborah Primme; but her nephew and heir called on
+me yesterday to say, that as the poor lady died worth less by L5,000.
+than he had expected, he thought a handsome wooden tomb would do as well,
+if I could get rid of this for him.  It is a beauty, sir.  It will look
+so cheerful--"
+
+"Well, that will do: and you can place it now where I told you."
+
+"In three days, sir."
+
+"So be it."  And he rode on, muttering, "Fanny, your pious wish will be
+fulfilled.  But flowers,--will they suit that stone?"
+
+He put up his horse, and walked through the lane to Simon's.
+
+As he approached the house, he saw Fanny's bright eyes at the window.
+She was watching his return.  She hastened to open the door to him, and
+the world's wanderer felt what music there is in the footstep, what
+summer there is in the smile, of Welcome!
+
+"My dear Fanny," he said, affected by her joyous greeting, "it makes my
+heart warm to see you.  I have brought you a present from town.  When I
+was a boy, I remember that my poor mother was fond of singing some simple
+songs, which often, somehow or other, come back to me, when I see and
+hear you.  I fancied you would understand and like them as well at least
+as I do--for Heaven knows (he added to himself) my ear is dull enough
+generally to the jingle of rhyme."  And he placed in her hands a little
+volume of those exquisite songs, in which Burns has set Nature to music.
+
+"Oh! you are so kind, brother," said Fanny, with tears swimming in her
+eyes, and she kissed the book.
+
+After their simple meal, Vaudemont broke to Fanny and Simon the
+intelligence of his intended departure for a few days.  Simon heard it
+with the silent apathy into which, except on rare occasions, his life had
+settled.  But Fanny turned away her face and wept.
+
+"It is but for a day or two, Fanny."
+
+"An hour is very--very long sometimes," said the girl, shaking her head
+mournfully.
+
+"Come, I have a little time yet left, and the air is mild, you have not
+been out to-day, shall we walk--"
+
+"Hem!" interrupted Simon, clearing his throat, and seeming to start into
+sudden animation; "had not you better settle the board and lodging before
+you go?"
+
+"Oh, grandfather!" cried Fanny, springing to her feet, with such a blush
+upon her face.
+
+"Nay, child," said Vaudemont, laughingly;  your grandfather only
+anticipates me.  But do not talk of board and lodging; Fanny is as a
+sister to me, and our purse is in common."
+
+"I should like to feel a sovereign--just to feel it," muttered Simon, in
+a sort of apologetic tone, that was really pathetic; and as Vaudemont
+scattered some coins on the table, the old man clawed them up, chuckling
+and talking to himself; and, rising with great alacrity, hobbled out of
+the room like a raven carrying some cunning theft to its hiding-place.
+
+This was so amusing to Vaudemont that he burst out fairly into an
+uncontrollable laughter.  Fanny looked at him, humbled and wondering for
+some moments; and then, creeping to him, put her hand gently on his arm
+and said--
+
+"Don't laugh--it pains me.  It was not nice in grand papa; but--but, it
+does not mean anything.  It--it--don't laugh--Fanny feels so sad!"
+
+"Well, you are right.  Come, put on your bonnet, we will go out."
+
+Fanny obeyed; but with less ready delight than usual.  And they took
+their way through lanes over which hung, still in the cool air, the
+leaves of the yellow autumn.
+
+Fanny was the first to break silence.
+
+"Do you know," she said, timidly, "that people here think me very silly?
+--do you think so too?"
+
+Vaudemont was startled by the simplicity of the question, and hesitated.
+Fanny looked up in his dark face anxiously and inquiringly.
+
+"Well," she said, "you don't answer?"
+
+"My dear Fanny, there are some things in which I could wish you less
+childlike and, perhaps, less charming.  Those strange snatches of song,
+for instance!"
+
+"What! do you not like me to sing?  It is my way of talking."
+
+"Yes; sing, pretty one!  But sing something that we can understand,--sing
+the songs I have given you, if you will.  And now, may I ask why you put
+to me that question?"
+
+"I have forgotten," said Fanny, absently, and looking down.
+
+Now, at that instant, as Philip Vaudemont bent over the exceeding
+sweetness of that young face, a sudden thrill shot through his heart, and
+he, too, became silent, and lost in thought.  Was it possible that there
+could creep into his breast a wilder affection for this creature than
+that of tenderness and pity?  He was startled as the idea crossed him.
+He shrank from it as a profanation--as a crime--as a frenzy.  He with his
+fate so uncertain and chequered--he to link himself with one so helpless
+--he to debase the very poetry that clung to the mental temperament of
+this pure being, with the feelings which every fair face may awaken to
+every coarse heart--to love Fanny!  No, it was impossible!  For what
+could he love in her but beauty, which the very spirit had forgotten to
+guard?  And she--could she even know what love was?  He despised himself
+for even admitting such a thought; and with that iron and hardy vigour
+which belonged to his mind, resolved to watch closely against every fancy
+that would pass the fairy boundary which separated Fanny from the world
+of women.
+
+He was roused from this self-commune by an abrupt exclamation from his
+companion.
+
+"Oh! I recollect now why I asked you that question.  There is one thing
+that always puzzles me--I want you to explain it.  Why does everything in
+life depend upon money?  You see even my poor grandfather forgot how good
+you are to us both, when--when Ah!  I don't understand--it pains--it
+puzzles me!"
+
+"Fanny, look there--no, to the left--you see that old woman, in rags,
+crawling wearily along; turn now to the right--you see that fine house
+glancing through the trees, with a carriage and four at the gates?  The
+difference between that old woman and the owner of that house is--Money;
+and who shall blame your grandfather for liking Money?"
+
+Fanny understood; and while the wise man thus moralised, the girl, whom
+his very compassion so haughtily contemned, moved away to the old woman
+to do her little best to smooth down those disparities from which wisdom
+and moralising never deduct a grain!  Vaudemont felt this as he saw her
+glide towards the beggar; but when she came bounding back to him, she had
+forgotten his dislike to her songs, and was chaunting, in the glee of the
+heart that a kind act had made glad, one of her own impromptu melodies.
+
+Vaudemont turned away.  Poor Fanny had unconsciously decided his self-
+conquest; she guessed not what passed within him, but she suddenly
+recollected--what lie had said to her about her songs, and fancied him
+displeased.
+
+"Ah I will never do it again.  Brother, don't turn away!"
+
+"But we must go home.  Hark! the clock strikes seven--I have no time to
+lose.  And you will promise me never to stir out till I return?"
+
+"I shall have no heart to stir out," said Fanny, sadly; and then in a
+more cheerful voice, she added, "And I shall sing the songs you like
+before you come back again!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+          "Well did they know that service all by rote;
+
+          Some singing loud as if they had complained,
+          Some with their notes another manner feigned."
+          CHAUCER: _Pie Cuckoo and the Nightingale,_
+          modernised by WORDSWORTH.--HORNE's Edition.
+
+And once more, sweet Winandermere, we are on the banks of thy happy lake!
+The softest ray of the soft clear sun of early autumn trembled on the
+fresh waters, and glanced through the leaves of the limes and willows
+that were reflected--distinct as a home for the Naiads--beneath the
+limpid surface.  You might hear in the bushes the young blackbirds
+trilling their first untutored notes.  And the graceful dragon-fly, his
+wings glittering in the translucent sunshine, darted to and fro--the
+reeds gathered here and there in the mimic bays that broke the shelving
+marge of the grassy shore.
+
+And by that grassy shore, and beneath those shadowy limes, sat the young
+lovers.  It was the very place where Spencer had first beheld Camilla.
+And now they were met to say, "Farewell!"
+
+"Oh, Camilla!" said he, with great emotion, and eyes that swam in tears,
+"be firm--be true.  You know how my whole life is wrapped up in your
+love.  You go amidst scenes where all will tempt you to forget me.  I
+linger behind in those which are consecrated by your remembrance, which
+will speak to me every hour of you.  Camilla, since you do love me--you
+do--do you not?--since you have confessed it--since your parents have
+consented to our marriage, provided only that your love last (for of mine
+there can be no doubt) for one year--one terrible year--shall I not trust
+you as truth itself?  And yet how darkly I despair at times!"
+
+Camilla innocently took the hands that, clasped together, were raised to
+her, as if in supplication, and pressed them kindly between her own.
+
+"Do not doubt me--never doubt my affection.  Has not my father consented?
+Reflect, it is but a year's delay!"
+
+"A year!--can you speak thus of a year--a whole year?  Not to see--not to
+hear you for a whole year, except in my dreams!  And, if at the end your
+parents waver?  Your father--I distrust him still.  If this delay is but
+meant to wean you from me,--if, at the end, there are new excuses found,
+--if they then, for some cause or other not now foreseen, still refuse
+their assent?  You--may I not still look to you?"
+
+Camilla sighed heavily; and turning her meek face on her lover, said,
+timidly, "Never think that so short a time can make me unfaithful, and do
+not suspect that my father will break his promise."
+
+"But, if he does, you will still be mine."
+
+"Ah, Charles, how could you esteem me as a wife if I were to tell you I
+could forget I am a daughter?"
+
+This was said so touchingly, and with so perfect a freedom from all
+affectation, that her lover could only reply by covering her hand with
+his kisses.  And it was not till after a pause that he continued
+passionately,--
+
+"You do but show me how much deeper is my love than yours.  You can never
+dream how I love you.  But I do not ask you to love me as well--it would
+be impossible.  My life from my earliest childhood has been passed in
+these solitudes;--a happy life, though tranquil and monotonous, till you
+suddenly broke upon it.  You seemed to me the living form of the very
+poetry I had worshipped--so bright--so heavenly--I loved you from the
+very first moment that we met.  I am not like other men of my age.  I
+have no pursuit--no occupation--nothing to abstract me from your thought.
+And I love you so purely--so devotedly, Camilla.  I have never known even
+a passing fancy for another.  You are the first--the only woman--it ever
+seemed to me possible to love.  You are my Eve--your presence my
+paradise!  Think how sad I shall be when you are gone--how I shall visit
+every spot your footstep has hallowed--how I shall count every moment
+till the year is past!"
+
+While he thus spoke, he had risen in that restless agitation which
+belongs to great emotion; and Camilla now rose also, and said soothingly,
+as she laid her hand on his shoulder with tender but modest frankness:
+
+"And shall I not also think of you?  I am sad to feel that you will be so
+much alone--no sister--no brother!"
+
+"Do not grieve for that.  The memory of you will be dearer to me than
+comfort from all else.  And you will be true!"
+
+Camilla made no answer by words, but her eyes and her colour spoke.  And
+in that moment, while plighting eternal truth, they forgot that they were
+about to part!
+
+Meanwhile, in a room in the house which, screened by the foliage, was
+only partially visible where the lovers stood, sat Mr. Robert Beaufort
+and Mr. Spencer.
+
+"I assure you, sir," said the former, "that I am not insensible to the
+merits of your nephew and to the very handsome proposals you make, still
+I cannot consent to abridge the time I have named.  They are both very
+young.  What is a year?"
+
+"It is a long time when it is a year of suspense," said the recluse,
+shaking his head.
+
+"It is a longer time when it is a year of domestic dissension and
+repentance.  And it is a very true proverb, 'Marry in haste and repent at
+leisure.'  No!  If at the end of the year the young people continue of
+the same mind, and no unforeseen circumstances occur--"
+
+"No unforeseen circumstances, Mr. Beaufort!--that is a new condition--it
+is a very vague phrase."
+
+"My dear sir, it is hard to please you.  Unforeseen circumstances," said
+the wary father, with a wise look, "mean circumstances that we don't
+foresee at present.  I assure you that I have no intention to trifle with
+you, and I shall be sincerely happy in so respectable a connexion."
+
+"The young people may write to each other?"
+
+Why, I'll consult Mrs. Beaufort.  At all events, it must not be very
+often, and Camilla is well brought up, and will show all the letters to
+her mother.  I don't much like a correspondence of that nature.  It often
+leads to unpleasant results; if, for instance--"
+
+"If what?"
+
+"Why, if the parties change their minds, and my girl were to marry
+another.  It is not prudent in matters of business, my dear sir, to put
+down anything on paper that can be avoided."
+
+Mr. Spencer opened his eyes.  "Matters of business, Mr. Beaufort!"
+
+"Well, is not marriage a matter of business, and a very grave matter too?
+More lawsuits about marriage and settlements, &c., than I like to think
+of.  But to change the subject.  You have never heard anything more of
+those young men, you say?"
+
+"No," said Mr. Spencer, rather inaudibly, and looking down.
+
+"And it is your firm impression that the elder one, Philip, is dead?"
+
+"I don't doubt it."
+
+"That was a very vexatious and improper lawsuit their mother brought
+against me.  Do you know that some wretched impostor, who, it appears, is
+a convict broke loose before his time, has threatened me with another, on
+the part of one of those young men?  You never heard anything of it--eh?"
+
+"Never, upon my honour."
+
+"And, of course, you would not countenance so villanous an attempt?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"Because that would break off our contract at once.  But you are too much
+a gentleman and a man of honour.  Forgive me so improper a question.  As
+for the younger Mr. Morton, I have no ill-feeling against him.  But the
+elder!  Oh, a thorough reprobate! a very alarming character!  I could
+have nothing to do with any member of the family while the elder lived;
+it would only expose me to every species of insult and imposition.  And
+now I think we have left our young friends alone long enough.
+
+"But stay, to prevent future misunderstanding, I may as well read over
+again the heads of the arrangement you honour me by proposing.  You agree
+to settle your fortune after your decease, amounting to L23,000.  and
+your house, with twenty-five acres one rood and two poles, more or less,
+upon your nephew and my daughter, jointly--remainder to their children.
+Certainly, without offence, in a worldly point of view, Camilla might do
+better; still, you are so very respectable, and you speak so handsomely,
+that I cannot touch upon that point; and I own, that though there is a
+large nominal rent-roll attached to Beaufort Court (indeed, there is not
+a finer property in the county), yet there are many incumbrances, and
+ready money would not be convenient to me.  Arthur--poor fellow, a very
+fine young man, sir,--is, as I have told you in perfect confidence, a
+little imprudent and lavish; in short, your offer to dispense with any
+dowry is extremely liberal, and proves your nephew is actuated by no
+mercenary feelings: such conduct prepossesses me highly in your favour
+and his too."
+
+Mr. Spencer bowed, and the great man rising, with a stiff affectation of
+kindly affability, put his arm into the uncle's, and strolled with him
+across the lawn towards the lovers.  And such is life-love on the lawn
+and settlements in the parlour.
+
+The lover was the first to perceive the approach of the elder parties.
+And a change came over his face as he saw the dry aspect and marked the
+stealthy stride of his future father-in-law; for then there flashed
+across him a dreary reminiscence of early childhood; the happy evening
+when, with his joyous father, that grave and ominous aspect was first
+beheld; and then the dismal burial, the funereal sables, the carriage at
+the door, and he himself clinging to the cold uncle to ask him to say a
+word of comfort to the mother, who now slept far away.  "Well, my young
+friend," said Mr. Beaufort, patronisingly, "your good uncle and myself
+are quite agreed--a little time for reflection, that's all.  Oh! I don't
+think the worse of you for wishing to abridge it.  But papas must be
+papas."
+
+There was so little jocular about that sedate man, that this attempt at
+jovial good humour seemed harsh and grating--the hinges of that wily
+mouth wanted oil for a hearty smile.
+
+"Come, don't be faint-hearted, Mr. Charles.  'Faint heart,'--you know the
+proverb.  You must stay and dine with us.  We return to-morrow to town.
+I should tell you, that I received this morning a letter from my son
+Arthur, announcing his return from Baden, so we must give him the
+meeting--a very joyful one you may guess.  We have not seen him these
+three years.  Poor fellow! he says be has been very ill and the waters
+have ceased to do him any good.  But a little quiet and country air at
+Beaufort Court will set him up, I hope."
+
+Thus running on about his son, then about his shooting--about Beaufort
+Court and its splendours--about parliament and its fatigues--about the
+last French Revolution, and the last English election--about Mrs.
+Beaufort and her good qualities and bad health--about, in short,
+everything relating to himself, some things relating to the public, and
+nothing that related to the persons to whom his conversation was
+directed, Mr. Robert Beaufort wore away half an hour, when the Spencer's
+took their leave, promising to return to dinner.
+
+"Charles," said Mr. Spencer, as the boat, which the young man rowed,
+bounded over the water towards their quiet home; "Charles, I dislike
+these Beauforts!"
+
+"Not the daughter?"
+
+"No, she is beautiful, and seems good; not so handsome as your poor
+mother, but who ever was?"--here Mr. Spencer sighed, and repeated some
+lines from Shenstone.
+
+"Do you think Mr. Beaufort suspects in the least who I am?"
+
+"Why, that puzzles me; I rather think he does."
+
+"And that is the cause of the delay?  I knew it."
+
+"No, on the contrary, I incline to think he has some kindly feeling to
+you, though not to your brother, and that it is such a feeling that made
+him consent to your marriage.  He sifted me very closely as to what I
+knew of the young Mortons--observed that you were very handsome, and that
+he had fancied at first that he had seen you before."
+
+"Indeed !"
+
+"Yes: and looked hard at me while he spoke; and said more than once,
+significantly, 'So his name is Charles?' He talked about some attempt at
+imposture and litigation, but that was, evidently, merely invented to
+sound me about your brother--whom, of course, he spoke ill of--impressing
+on me three or four times that he would never have anything to say to any
+of the family while Philip lived."
+
+"And you told him," said the young man, hesitatingly, and with a deep
+blush of shame over his face, "that you were persuaded--that is, that you
+believed Philip was--was--"
+
+"Was dead!  Yes--and without confusion.  For the more I reflect, the more
+I think he must be dead.  At all events, you may be sure that he is dead
+to us, that we shall never hear more of him."
+
+"Poor Philip!"
+
+"Your feelings are natural; they are worthy of your excellent heart; but
+remember, what would have become of you if you had stayed with him!"
+
+"True!" said the brother, with a slight shudder--"a career of
+suffering--crime--perhaps the gibbet!  Ah! what do I owe you?"
+
+The dinner-party at Mr. Beaufort's that day was constrained and formal,
+though the host, in unusual good humour, sought to make himself
+agreeable.  Mrs. Beaufort, languid and afflicted with headache, said
+little.  The two Spencers were yet more silent.  But the younger sat next
+to her he loved; and both hearts were full: and in the evening they
+contrived to creep apart into a corner by the window, through which the
+starry heavens looked kindly on them.  They conversed in whispers, with
+long pauses between each: and at times Camilla's tears flowed silently
+down her cheeks, and were followed by the false smiles intended to cheer
+her lover.
+
+Time did not fly, but crept on breathlessly and heavily.  And then came
+the last parting--formal, cold--before witnesses.  But the lover could
+not restrain his emotion, and the hard father heard his suppressed sob as
+he closed the door.
+
+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 passed 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 principal.  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 assuredly 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 embarrassed 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 assured 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
+circumstances 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 circumstances 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 passionate 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 Passions 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!
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, NIGHT AND MORNING, V4 ***
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