His Lordship rallied sufficiently during the course of the day to admit of his being conveyed to his house in Grosvenor Square, but in the evening experienced a second and still more alarming fit, and continues in a state which is calculated to excite the greatest apprehension. We regret also to add, that Lady Cecilia Titmouse, his Lordship's only daughter, happening to be with his Lordship at the moment of this sudden attack, was immediately seized with illness; which, in her Ladyship's critical state of health, may be attended with most serious consequences."
His Lordship rallied sufficiently during the course of the day to admit of his being conveyed to his house in Grosvenor Square, but in the evening experienced a second and still more alarming fit, and continues in a state which is calculated to excite the greatest apprehension. We regret also to add, that Lady Cecilia Titmouse, his Lordship's only daughter, happening to be with his Lordship at the moment of this sudden attack, was immediately seized with illness; which, in her Ladyship's critical state of health, may be attended with most serious consequences."
In the evening papers, it was stated that the Earl of Dreddlington still continued in a precarious condition, and that Lady Cecilia was not expected to survive the night; and the instant that Mr. Gammon laid his hands on the next morning's paper, he turned with eagerness and trepidation to a certain gloomy corner of it—and a faint momentary mist came over his eyes, while he read as follows:—
"Yesterday, in Grosvenor Square, in her 29th year, after giving premature birth to a son, still-born, Lady Cecilia Titmouse, the Lady of Tittlebat Titmouse, Esq., M. P., and only daughter and heiress of the Right Honorable the Earl of Dreddlington."
"Yesterday, in Grosvenor Square, in her 29th year, after giving premature birth to a son, still-born, Lady Cecilia Titmouse, the Lady of Tittlebat Titmouse, Esq., M. P., and only daughter and heiress of the Right Honorable the Earl of Dreddlington."
Mr. Gammon laid down the paper, and for some moments felt overcome with a deadly faintness. Having, however, recovered himself a little, on casting a hasty apprehensive glance over the newspaper, for intelligence of the Earl of Dreddlington, he read as follows:—
"The Earl of Dreddlington, we regret to say, continues alarmingly ill. Drs. Bailey and Whittington are in constant attendance upon his Lordship. Our readers will see, in another part of our paper, the melancholy announcement of the death of his Lordship's lovely and accomplished daughter, Lady Cecilia Titmouse, after giving premature birth to a son, still-born.
"The Earl of Dreddlington, we regret to say, continues alarmingly ill. Drs. Bailey and Whittington are in constant attendance upon his Lordship. Our readers will see, in another part of our paper, the melancholy announcement of the death of his Lordship's lovely and accomplished daughter, Lady Cecilia Titmouse, after giving premature birth to a son, still-born.
We regret to hear it rumored, that the illness of his Lordship originated in a shock occasioned by circumstances of a very painful nature; but this report, we trust, will turn out to be unfounded. In the event of his Lordship's demise, he is succeeded in his titles and estates by his son-in-law, and heir, upon the death of the Lady Cecilia, Mr. Titmouse, M. P. for Yatton."
We regret to hear it rumored, that the illness of his Lordship originated in a shock occasioned by circumstances of a very painful nature; but this report, we trust, will turn out to be unfounded. In the event of his Lordship's demise, he is succeeded in his titles and estates by his son-in-law, and heir, upon the death of the Lady Cecilia, Mr. Titmouse, M. P. for Yatton."
It will surely be a relief to one's feelings to pass away, for a while at least, from the contemplation of these events of untoward and disastrous issue, to persons and to incidents of a very different character. Turn, therefore, kind and patient reader! your eye to that retreat of long-suffering virtue which is to be found in Vivian Street!
Relieved from theimmediatepressure which had, as it were, forced him down into the very dust, poor Aubrey's pious and well-disciplined mind was not long in recovering that tone of confident reliance upon the goodness and mercy of God, which God had seen fit so severely to try; and such He now permitted Aubrey to see had been His object. He and his lovely—his beloved wife and sister, soon recovered a considerable measure of composure, and even cheerfulness; yet felt they allin the deep waters. The generous and timely interference of Mr. Runnington had secured them, indeed, a few months' respite from the harassing and tormenting attacks of those who seemed bent upon their destruction; but what was to become of them all, when the arrival of the next term should have again set into motion against them the dismal machinery of the law? None of them could foresee any mode of exit from their troubles; speculation was idle: yet lost they not an humble but trembling hope, that Providence would yet make a way for their escape.
The one of all the recent occurrences which had most shocked and disheartened Mr. Aubrey, and driven him nearest to the verge of downright despair, was that of Lady Stratton's death, and its afflicting concomitants. How powerfully and perseveringly did the Arch-enemy of mankind represent this circumstance to him—especially in those moods of depression which are incident to all of us in this fluctuating scene of trial and suffering—as proof that he was the sport of chance, the victim of evil destiny! What—it was suggested—had he, his wife, his sister, done todeserveit? But, thank God! in vain were these suggestions from beneath; totally ineffectual
"To shake his trust in God!"
Certainly, the event alluded to baffled all his calculations long, and deeply, and anxiously as he reflected upon it, in all its bearings—and his only refuge lay in the simple reference of it to the all-wise providence of God. Oh, foolish fiend! and didst thou really think this little matter was sufficient to make this Christian man doubt or deny God's moral government of the world?—Far otherwise, indeed, was it with him, enlightened by intelligence from on high; and which satisfied Aubrey, that while there was so much that was utterly incomprehensible and inexplicable in the character of God Himself, in His physical and natural government of the world, it was but reasonable to expect corresponding mystery and incomprehensibility in Hismoralgovernment of the world. We are permitted to obtain a few occasional glimpses of the one, as well as of the other—and they should satisfy us of the reality of the sublime and awful system which is in existence around us. What know we of the ultimate scope and end of His working? What seeming good shall we be sure will not produce evil? What seeming evil shall we be sure will not produce,and is not designed to produce, good? And may not our ignorance in these respects be specially ordained to test the faith of man—to check presumptuous confidence—to repel palsying despair; in a word, to make manwalk humbly with his God, in constant and implicit dependence upon him? Oh, blessed is the man of true devoutness of mind, and protected from innumerable troubles and perils that assail and overpower those who choose to livewithout God in the world!—Thus was it that Aubrey, as he had not presumed in his prosperity, so despaired not in his adversity.
He had commenced a sedulous attendance at the chambers of Mr. Mansfield, within a few days after the delicate kindness of Mr. Runnington had afforded him the means of doing so. He already knew sufficient to give him an interest in the intricate system of the law of real property; and the immediate practical operation of its principles, which he witnessed in his new scene of study, served to enhance his estimate of its importance and value. In addition, however, to his absorbing professional labors, he continued his occasional contributions to substantial literature; but Mr. Runnington's generosity had enabled him to dispense with that severe and incessant exertion to which he had been till then accustomed, and to address himself to his difficult yet delightful studies, with undivided energy.
Some short time after he had commenced his attendance at Mr. Mansfield's chambers, Mr. Aubrey was, one morning about ten o'clock, on his way down to Lincoln's Inn, and when about to cross Piccadilly, paused to let pass him a dusty post-chaise and four, dashing up St. James's Street; and as it went close and rapidly by him, he quite started with astonishment; for, unless his eyes had extraordinarily deceived him, he had seen in that chaise no othera person than Lord De la Zouch: who, however, if itwerehe, had not appeared to see Mr. Aubrey, and probably had really not observed him.
"Why, how can this be?" thought Aubrey, standing and gazing for a moment in astonishment after the dust-covered vehicle. "The letter which Agnes received the other day from Lady De la Zouch, did not say a word about Lord De la Zouch's intention to return to England! And alone!—And in a post-chaise—and travelling all night, as he evidently has, from Dover! 'T is strange! What can be the matter?"—And he stood for a moment irresolute whether or not he should retrace his steps, and satisfy his curiosity by calling at the house of Lord De la Zouch, in Dover Street. On consideration, however, he determined not to do so. He might be mistaken; but if not, Lord De la Zouch might have been called back to England on a matter of special urgency, and possibly deem a visit from any one, except those whom he expected to see, intrusive. Aubrey, therefore, continued his way on to Lincoln's Inn; and was very soon engrossed with the matters there requiring his attention. But it really was Lord De la Zouch whom he had seen; and, moreover, it was solely on Aubrey's own account that his Lordship, leaving Lady De la Zouch at Paris, had taken this sudden journey to England—not intending Aubrey, however, at all events at present, to be apprised of the fact. 'Twas entirely owing to the unconscious Gammon that Lord De la Zouch thus made his appearance in England; for, had that gentleman not taken such special pains to have inserted in theMorning Growl, the full and accurate account of the proceedings which he had caused to be instituted against himself, which the reader has had laid before him, and which his Lordship, in due course, had read at Paris, with infinite anxiety and alarm on the score of its possible bearing upon Mr. Aubrey, his Lordship wouldin all probability have continued at Paris for several months longer, in total ignorance of the thraldom of the unfortunate Aubreys. The moment that his Lordship had perused the report in question, he wrote off to Mr. Runnington a strictly confidential letter, begging an immediate answer, with as full and exact an account of Mr. Aubrey's circumstances as Mr. Runnington could give. By the very next post, that gentleman wrote off to his Lordship a long answer, acquainting him with what had befallen the persecuted Aubrey, viz.—his double arrest, and in respect of so terrible a liability. Mr. Runnington spoke in very glowing and feeling terms of the manly fortitude of Mr. Aubrey under his accumulated misfortunes; and, in short, drew so moving a picture of the deplorable circumstances into which Mr. Aubrey and his family were plunged, that his Lordship the next day wrote off to inform Mr. Runnington, in confidence, that he might expect to see his Lordship in London within a day or two—for that he was coming over solely on the affairs of the Aubreys—and was, in fact, resolved upon bringing about, cost what it might, either alone, or in conjunction with such other friends of Mr. Aubrey as his Lordship might think proper to take into his counsels, a complete and final settlement of Mr. Aubrey's affairs, and so place him at once and forever out of the reach of all his enemies; to set him once more straight and free in the world, and give him a fair chance of securing, by the successful practice of the profession of the bar, that independence, affluence, and distinction, to which his great talents, learning, industry, and unconquerable energy, warranted him in aspiring. As soon as his Lordship had recovered from the fatigues of his journey, he sent off a servant to request the immediate attendance of Mr. Runnington—who was overjoyed at receiving the summons, and could hardly refrain from stepping overto Mr. Mansfield's, in order to apprise Mr. Aubrey of the arrival of Lord De la Zouch. He abstained, however, from doing so, on recollecting the strict injunctions of Lord De la Zouch; and immediately set off for Dover Street. But before they met, let me take the opportunity of mentioning one or two little matters connected with the previous movements of Mr. Runnington.
He was a very able man; clear-headed, cautious, experienced, and singularly prompt and determined, when once he had resolved on any course of proceeding: in short, he was quite capable of contending against even such a formidable opponent as Gammon, subtle, tortuous, and unscrupulous though he might be. "Let me onceget holdof Master Gammon—that's all!"—thought, very frequently, Mr. Runnington. Now, the astounding avowal which Miss Aubrey represented Mr. Gammon as having made to her, in his insane attempt to prevail upon her to entertain his addresses—viz. that he possessed the power of immediately, and by legal means, displacing Mr. Titmouse, and repossessing Mr. Aubrey, of Yatton—had made a profound impression on the mind of Mr. Runnington. The more that he reflected upon the incident—and upon the character of Mr. Gammon, the stronger became his conviction that Mr. Gammon had been in earnest in what he had said; that there was a foundation in fact for his assertion; and that if so, some scheme of profound and infernal wickedness must have been had recourse to, in order to dispossess Mr. Aubrey of Yatton, and place Titmouse there in his stead. Then Mr. Runnington adverted, in his own mind, to the circumstance of Mr. Gammon's exercising such a constant interference and control over Titmouse, and all matters connected with Yatton. Mr. Runnington many and many a time pondered these things in his mind—but was, after all, completely at a loss toknow what steps to take, and how to deal with the affair, as it stood. Then again, with reference to the death of Lady Stratton, and the melancholy circumstances attending it, Mr. Runnington had entered into a correspondence with Mr. Parkinson, with a view to ascertaining the chances there were, of procuring his draft of Lady Stratton's will, to be admitted to probate; and laid the whole affair, in the shape of a "case," before an eminent practitioner in the ecclesiastical court. The opinion he thus obtained, was, however, adverse; mainly, on the ground that there was clearly evidence to show a subsequent essential alteration of intention on the part of Lady Stratton—to say nothing of certain other difficulties which, the fee marked being a very handsome one, were suggested by the astute civilian. Mr. Runnington was much chagrined at this result; and abandoned his design of seriously contesting Mr. Titmouse's claim to administration. It could, however, he thought, do no harm if he were just to lodge acaveat, even though he should there leave the matter. It might have the effect of interposing some delay; staving off any contemplated proceedings upon the bond which Mr. Aubrey had given to the late Lady Stratton; and afford an opportunity for negotiation concerning the payment of Mr. Aubrey and Miss Aubrey's shares of the property of the intestate. This step, therefore, he took—and was by no means chagrined at finding, some short time afterwards, that the Vulture Company were bent on pursuing their ordinary course, in cases of policies which rendered it worth their while, viz. not paying till they were forced to do so:—and the Company, in their turn, were only too happy to find that there was a chance of a protracted dispute concerning the right to the policy. Not satisfied with this—still haunted by Mr. Gammon's mysterious statement to Miss Aubrey—it all at once occurred to Mr. Runnington, in the courseof one of his many meditations upon the subject, to take an opportunity of discussing the affair, in all its bearings, with Sir Charles Wolstenholme, whose penetrating, practical sagacity, sharpened by his zeal and sympathy, might hit upon something or other undiscernible to Mr. Runnington. Without having intimated his intentions to Mr. Aubrey, Mr. Runnington, shortly after having lodged his caveat, succeeded in obtaining an interview with Sir Charles, expressly with a view of talking over the affairs of the unfortunate Mr. Aubrey.
"God bless my soul!" cried Sir Charles, in a tone of wonder, as soon as Mr. Runnington had mentioned the statement of Mr. Gammon to Miss Aubrey, and the circumstances accompanying it. In short, it was clear that Sir Charles was every whit as much struck with the fact as had been Mr. Runnington; and for some minutes after Mr. Runnington had named it, seemed lost in thought. A considerable pause here ensued in their conversation; and Mr. Runnington was quite delighted to see his distinguished companion evidently engaged in turning about the facts of the case in his clear and powerful understanding; viewing them from every point in which they could be contemplated, and in all their bearings.
"It's very likely, I am disposed to think, that the fellow was in earnest," at length said Sir Charles; "at all events that hebelievedhe had the power which he professed to possess; and that he was hurried away into prematurely disclosing it. Egad, he's a nice person, that Gammon, too, by the way, to think of his proposing to sweet, pretty Miss Aubrey—ah, hah," he added with a faint but contemptuous smile; and presently subjoined in a musing sort of way—"I've got the general facts that came out at the trial still pretty fresh in my mind, and I've been just running over the links in his chain of proof. 'Gad! we could hardly have failed todetect a hitch, if there had been one! Link by link we went over it—and were long enough about it, at any rate! I can conceive too, that in a case of that sort there was room for a little bit of perjury, if it were cleverly managed; and Mr. Gammonisacleverman! By the way, I'm actually going down special for him to York, in that bribery case, ah, hah! Ay," he presently resumed, "I suspect that one or two of the links in that chain of his must have been of base metal. Devil take him! he must have done it well, too!" He smiled bitterly.
"Ifthat'syour impression, Sir Charles," said Mr. Runnington, eagerly, "what do you think of having a shot at them—a second ejectment!"
"Oh, by Heaven!that'san awful affair!" replied Sir Charles, shaking his head, and looking very serious; "besides, what he's done once, he may do again."
"Ah, but we know all his witnesses now beforehand! Then we fought him in the dark; but now"——
"Ay, there's something inthat, certainly," said Sir Charles, musingly; "but then 't is such a frightful expense; and where poor Aubrey's to get the means"——
"Oh, never mind that, Sir Charles!" replied Mr. Runnington, nevertheless somewhat seriously; but thinking of Lord De la Zouch, he added rather briskly—"If you only intimate an opinion favorable towards venturing the experiment, I'll undertake thatfundsshall be forthcoming."
While Mr. Runnington was saying this, Sir Charles Wolstenholme sat leaning back in his chair, his head inclined on one side, the fingers of one hand playing mechanically with his chin; in fact, he was deeply engaged in thought, and Mr. Runnington did not interrupt him.
"Ah," he presently exclaimed with a sort of sigh, looking with sudden vivacity at his companion—"I have it—I have it—I see a way out of the wood! Well, if you can only get ammunition, it's my advice to you to fight the battle over again—but on quite a different field. We'll strike a blow in a new hemisphere!"
"Indeed, Sir Charles? What, in a court of equity?"
"Oh, pho, no!—You say youhaveentered a caveat against the grant of Letters of Administration?"
"Yes, certainly," replied Mr. Runnington, a little disappointed; "but, as I explained, there's no chance of establishing awill."
"Never mindthat!Throw the will to the dogs. I'll show you a wrinkle worth a hundred wills! Mr. and Miss Aubrey, and Titmouse, are, you know, of course, entitled each to a third of Lady Stratton's estate, but as Aubrey would appear to the court to be in fact insolvent, and to owe Titmouse a much larger sum than Aubrey is entitled to, out of the intestate's estate—the preferable right to administer is certainly that of Titmouse. Never mind that, however. Contest his right to administerat all: stand by yourcaveat—and when you are called upon to support it, do so on the groundthat Mr. Aubrey isNEARERof kin to Lady Stratton than Titmouse—which will make it necessary for the fellow, you know, to set forth his pedigree with the greatest minuteness. You will then have a commission go down to the very spot where all the witnesses are, and those fellows, the proctors, you know, are as keen as beagles"——
"Oh, Sir Charles, Sir Charles! I—I see it all! Oh, admirable"——
"To be sure!" continued Sir Charles, with much animation. "Their case will be as it were laid on the rack, when the process of the ecclesiastical court is applied to it. You have an examiner on the spot—all secret and mysterious—proctors ferreting out all sortsof old registers and musty documents, thatweshould never think of. 'T is quite in their line—births, deaths, and marriages, and everything connected with them. By Jove!ifthere's a flaw, you'll discover it inthisway!"
"Oh, heavens!" cried Mr. Runnington, with grateful glee, "your hint is worth thousands upon thousands of pounds"——
"If it only produceTen Thousand a-Year—ah, hah!" interrupted Sir Charles, laughing good-naturedly; and very soon afterwards Mr. Runnington quitted his chambers, charmed and excited by the masterly suggestion which had been made to him, and resolved to go off to his proctorinstanter, set about acting upon the hint forthwith, and get a kind of general notion of the process which he thought of commencing. You might, within an hour's time, have seen Mr. Runnington closeted with the proctor always employed by his firm—Mr.Obadiah Pounce—a man whose look told you he was made for penetrating into and poking about anything musty, or obscure. He was, indeed, thoroughly up to his business—in fact, not an abler or more experienced proctor was to be found in Doctor's Commons. As Mr. Pounce was not entirely unacquainted with the facts—having drawn up the case which had been submitted to Dr.Flarefor his opinion as to the admissibility to probate of Mr. Parkinson's draft of Lady Stratton's intended will—it did not take long to put him in possession of the wishes and intentions of Mr. Runnington.
"Let us come away to Dr. Flare at once," quoth Pounce, putting his watch into his fob—"You'll catch him at home just now, I know, and perhaps in good-humor; and a short consultation withhimwill be worth half a dozen written opinions."
So they set off for the chambers of Dr. Flare, which were at onlya few yards' distance. Dr. Flare was a very great man in the ecclesiastical court; in fact, by far the most eminent practitioner there. He was thoroughly versed in ecclesiastical law, and every species of learning connected with it; in fact, he had for the last thirty years been concerned in every case of the least importance which had come before that solemn, quaint, and mysterious tribunal. He was possessed of great acuteness and powers of arrangement, and had wonderful industry; but his capital quality was that of thoroughly identifying himself with his cause. Into every cause in which he was employed, he entered with all the keenness and vivacity which he could have displayed in one of vital personal consequence to himself. The moment he had possessed himself of the facts of his case, he became sincerely and really convinced, to the end of the chapter, that he was on the right side—that the legal and moral merits were with his client—that he ought to win—and that his opponents were among the most execrable of mankind. But, to be sure, such atemperwas his! So fierce and fiery, that it scorched everybody who came into contact with him. He was like an angry dog, who, if he have nothing else to snap at, will snap at his own tail—and Dr. Flare, when he had no one else to get into a passion with, would get into one with himself. His own quickness of perception was calculated to render him impatient and irritable under even the clearest and briefest statement which could be addressed to him. He was, in a manner, the victim of his ownacumen nimium. In spite of considerable impetuosity of temper, he was a kind, an honorable, and high-minded man; and when not in actual conflict, lived on very good terms with his grave and very learned brethren. In person, he was short and spare; his slight gray whiskers looked as if they had been calcined by his cheeks, which, though thin, were of a florid red color; his forehead wasample; and there was an expression about his piercing gray eye which seemed to ask with a curse, of any one entering, "why d'ye interrupt me?" When Mr. Pounce and Mr. Runnington entered his room—which was covered with papers and open books—the doctor was settling,in furore, Articles extending over many hundred folios, against an unhappy curate, flourishing on forty pounds a-year in Rutlandshire, "touching and concerning his soul's health, and the lawful correction and reformation of his manners and excesses," (such was the solemn and affectionate strain in which the reverend delinquent was addressed,) for having refused to baptize a child by the name of "Judas Iscariot"—that being the name desired to be given to his infant by a blasphemous little Radical cobbler, a chattering infidel, who sought, by that means, to evince his insane hatred of the Christian religion. Now, Dr. Flare was himself an ardent friend of the Church, and a sincere Christian: but, by virtue of the quality to which I have before alluded, he had brought himself to look upon this poor clergyman as guilty of a most flagrant piece of wickedness; and was forging,con amore, the bolt to be presently levelled at so enormous an offender. But a few minutes before their arrival, moreover, an incident had occurred to the doctor, which had roused him into a kind of frenzy: he had been interrupted by an applicant to be sworn to some matter or other, for which the doctor was entitled to the usual fee of one shilling. The deponent had only half-a-crown; so the doctor had to take out his purse, and give him the difference, with a muttered curse; and you may guess the scene which ensued on the deponent's presently returning, and requesting that the sixpence which the doctor had given him might be changed, beinga bad one!—Mr. Runnington was prepared to go fully into his case before Dr. Flare; but on catching sight of him, he looked so startling a contrast tothe calm and affable Sir Charles Wolstenholme—so like a hyena squatting in his den—that his heart suddenly failed him; and after observing, that instead of interrupting the doctor at that time, he would immediately lay a written case before him, he and Mr. Pounce made their escape into the open air; the former looking so relieved of apprehension, that Mr. Pounce almost died with laughter. But it occurred to Mr. Runnington, that, in the present stage of the business, Mr. Pounce was just as satisfactory an adviser as Dr. Flare could be—and he determined upon being guided by Mr. Pounce, whom he immediately instructed to retain Dr. Flare; and then talked over the whole case in all its bearings—the result being, that Mr. Pounce entirely corroborated the view taken by Sir Charles Wolstenholme, and pointed out so clearly and forcibly the peculiar advantages attending the contemplated mode of procedure, that Mr. Runnington nearly made up his mind on the spot, to venture on the experiment; but at all events undertook to give his final decision within twenty-four hours' time. The next morning, however, he received information from Mr. Pounce, which was calculated to quicken his motions; viz. that Mr. Titmouse was moving, and had just "warned the caveat,"[15]with a view to discovering who his opponent was, and what was the ground of his opposition. Now, this chanced to occur on the very day of Lord De la Zouch's arrival in London; his servant calling at Mr. Runnington's office with a note requesting his attendance in Dover Street, within a few hours of Mr. Runnington's receiving intelligence of the movement of Mr. Titmouse. The result of a very long and anxious discussion between Mr. Runnington and Lord De la Zouch was, that his Lordship acquiesced in the expediency of the course suggested to him, viz. to suspend for a month or two carrying into effect the schemewhich he had formed for extricating Mr. Aubrey from all his liabilities—since the proceedings about to be instituted in the ecclesiastical court might possibly render unnecessary the very large pecuniary sacrifice contemplated by his Lordship, by disentitling Mr. Titmouse to receive any part of the demand which he was at present enforcing against Mr. Aubrey. His Lordship then gave acarte blancheto Mr. Runnington, and authorized him instantly to commence, and most vigorously prosecute every measure which might be necessary—to spare no expense or exertion—to give and take no quarter; for Lord De la Zouch expressed the warmest indignation at the whole conduct of Mr. Gammon—particularly his presumptuous advances towards Miss Aubrey, and the audacious measures to which he had resorted, for the purpose of securing her favor. His Lordship also felt, in common with Sir Charles Wolstenholme and Mr. Runnington, that Mr. Gammon's avowal to Miss Aubrey of his absolute control over the enjoyment of the Yatton property, warranted the suspicion that the decisive steps about to be taken would lead to the most important results. Thus fortified, Mr. Runnington immediately gave instructions to Mr. Pounce to proceed: and that person at once entered formally into battle with his brother proctor, Mr. Quod, who was acting for Mr. Titmouse. Supposing it to be all a very simple straightforward affair on the part of Mr. Titmouse, Mr. Quod did not give himself any particular concern about the step taken by Mr. Pounce, and with which he did not acquaint Mr. Gammon, till that gentleman called to inquire in what state the proceedings were; and when he found the ground taken by Mr. Aubrey, and that it would compel Mr. Titmouse to prove over again every link in the chain which connected him with the elder branch of the Aubrey family, he was not a little agitated, though he made a great effort to conceal it, while listening to Mr.Quod's account of the process about to be commenced. Each party, it seemed, would have to give in to the court "an allegation," or statement of the pedigree he intended to establish, and which would be lodged at the registry. Each would then, in due course, obtain a copy of his opponent's allegation, in order to guide him in framing his own proof and interrogatories. ACOMMISSIONwould then be sent, by the court, into the county where the witnesses resided, to examine them—the examiner being an officer of the court, a proctor—and, while thus engaged, representing the court. This officer having been furnished by the parties with a copy of the two allegations, the names of the witnesses, and the interrogatories, would proceed to examine the witnesses; but in a manner very different from any adopted by the courts of law—viz. one by one, alone, secretly, and in the most searching and thorough manner; and having given his or her evidence, the witness would be formally threatened with the terrors of the ecclesiastical court, if he or she should presume to disclose to any person, much less the parties, the evidence which had been thus given to the examiner. When the whole of the evidence had been in this mysterious way collected, it would be lodged in the proper office of the court; and till the arrival of the proper time for permitting both parties to take copies of it—they would be in total ignorance as to the exact nature of that which had been given by even their own witnesses. Mr. Quod added, that the briefs which had been used at the trial of the action of ejectment, would of themselves furnish almost the entire "allegations," and greatly facilitate and accelerate the proceedings.
"Then, do the parties, or their proctors," inquired Gammon, "go down beforehand to the spot where the commission is to be held?"
"Oh yes, both parties, of course—Pounce and I shall be both at work down there, rummaging registries, records, churchyards—brushing up every man, woman, and child, that's got a word to say on the subject—warm work, warm work, Mr. Gammon! We sha'n't leave a stone unturned on either side! Lord, I recollect a case, for instance, where amarriagepassed muster in all your common-law courts, one after the other; but as soon as it got intoourhands—aha!—we found out that it was no marriage at all! and some thirty or forty thousand a-year changed owners! What d'ye think of that?" said Mr. Quod, rubbing his hands, with a pleased and confident air, which strangely contrasted with the reserved and disconcerted manner of his companion; who, in fact, had been thrown into a cold perspiration by what he had heard. "Pounce," continued Quod, "is a keen hand, but I know one that's not afraid of him any day! But I'm sorry they've secured Dr. Flare, I own"——
"Ah, well, that can't be helped now, you know. Good-day, Mr. Quod," said Gammon, with a sickly smile. "I shall be with you about this time to-morrow, to make arrangements." And with this he withdrew.
"Curse Lady Stratton—her will—her policy—everything connected with the old creature," said Gammon to himself, vehemently, as he sat that evening alone, in his chamber, meditating upon this most unexpected turn which the thing had taken; "nothing but vexation, and disappointment, anddanger, by Heaven!—attends every move I make in her accursed affairs! Was there ever such a check, for instance, as this? Who could have dreamed of it? What may it not lead to?" Here he got up hastily, and walked for some minutes to and fro. "By Heaven, it won't do!—Would to Heaven I had never ventured on the speculation of Titmouse's administering to the old woman!—What could I have been about? And, too, when I knewnothing about the policy! But how can I now retreat? Imustgo on!" Another pause. "Stay—stay—that won't do either! Oh, no!—not for a moment! But what will they not conclude from our sudden striking? Of course, that we dare not bring Titmouse's pedigree again into the light; and, besides, by relinquishing the administration to Aubrey, shall I not be putting weapons into his hands—in the possession of the funds—against ourselves? Ay, to be sure! So, by ——, here we are in for it, whether we will or not—and no escape!" The latter words he uttered aloud, at the same time snapping his fingers with a desperate air; and continued walking about for a long time in a state of most direful perplexity and alarm. "WhatshallI do?" said he at length aloud, and then thought within himself—"Move in what direction I may, I am encountered by almost insuperable difficulties! Yet how cautious have I not been!—If I concede the administration to Aubrey, to what motives of conscious weakness will he not refer it? Imustact—I dare not hesitate to act—on the solemn finding of a jury, now deliberately acquiesced in for so considerable a time by Aubrey. And I know that the ecclesiastical court won't easily be brought to act against that finding. It will never do to have to fight the question of distribution in the Court ofChancery."—Here he threw himself on his sofa, and remained absorbed in thought for some time. Again he rose, and paced his room with folded arms. At length another view of the matter presented itself to him. "Suppose one were to sound Aubrey or Runnington on the subject, and tell them that I have prevailed on Titmouse to withdraw his claim to administer—in consideration of the moral certainty there is that Lady Stratton intendedtheyshould have the whole of her property—at all events of the amount of the policy.—Bah!thatwon't do! They'd never believe us! Butwho, in Heaven's name, is finding the funds for such a serious contest as this?—Runnington has no doubt got some of Aubrey's friends to come forward and make a last experiment on his behalf. But why take this particular move?" He drew a long breath, and every particle of color fled from his cheek. "Alas! alas! I now see it all. Miss Aubrey has betrayed me! She has told to her brother—to Runnington—what, in my madness, I mentioned to her! That explains all! Yes," he exclaimed aloud in a vehement tone, "you beautiful fiend, it is your hand that has commenced the work of destruction—as you suppose!"
Neither Lord De la Zouch nor Mr. Runnington saw any necessity for hesitating to apprise Mr. Aubrey of the steps they meditated taking on his behalf, as soon as they had come to the decision above recited, and for which, of course, it became necessary to obtain his sanction. During the course, therefore, of the day after that on which their determination had been taken, at Lord De la Zouch's desire, Mr. Runnington undertook to make the important communication to Mr. Aubrey. For a while he seemed to stagger under the weight of intelligence of such magnitude; and it was some time before he recovered calmness of feeling sufficient to appreciate the nature and consequences of the meditated step—viz. a direct, an immediate, and most formidable effort to replace him in the possession of the estates from which he had been some two years before displaced. But all other considerations were speedily absorbed in one which most profoundly affected him—the princely conduct of his friend Lord De la Zouch. Mr. Aubrey said scarce anything upon this topic for some time; but Mr. Runnington perceived how powerfully his feelings were excited. And will it occasion surprise when I say, that this feeling of gratitude towards the creature—towards the noble instrument—was presentlyitself merged into another, that of gratitude towards God, whose mysterious and beneficent purpose concerning him, he contemplated with a holy awe? Mr. Runnington was himself greatly moved by the spectacle before him; but desirous of relieving the increasing excitement under which he perceived Mr. Aubrey laboring, he kindly turned the conversation towards the practical details, and apprised him of the consultation which he had had with Sir Charles Wolstenholme, to all of which Mr. Aubrey listened with intense interest, and thoroughly appreciated the value of the admirable suggestion upon which they were acting. But Lord De la Zouch had, with a most delicate consideration, peremptorily enjoined Mr. Runnington not to acquaint Mr. Aubrey with the circumstance, either of his Lordship's having come over from France solely on his affairs, or of his meditated project of summarily releasing Mr. Aubrey from all his embarrassments. As soon as Mr. Runnington had informed Mr. Aubrey that he would find his Lordship then at Dover Street, and in readiness to receive him, that closed their interview; and Mr. Aubrey, in a state of extraordinary exhilaration of spirits, instantly set off to see his munificent benefactor, and pour out before him the homage of an oppressed and grateful heart. After a long interview, the character of which the reader may easily imagine, Lord De la Zouch insisted on setting out for Vivian Street—for he declared he could not let another hour pass without seeing those in whose welfare he felt so tender an interest: so arm in arm they walked thither; and it would have made any one's heart thrill with satisfaction to see the brightened countenance of poor Aubrey, as he walked along, full of joyful excitement, which was visible even in the elasticity and vigor of his step. It seemed as though a millstone had been taken from his neck; for though he was, indeed, of a somewhat sanguine temperament, yet had he not, inwhat had happened, solid ground to sustain the strongest and brightest hopes? Whether he was right, or whether he was wrong, still he entertained a confidence that it was God's good providence to which he was indebted for what had happened—and that He would bring it to a successful issue. They agreed together, as they neared Vivian Street, to be guided by circumstances, in communicating or withholding information of the glorious interference in their favor which was at that moment in active operation. Mr. Aubrey's knock—so vastly sharper and more energetic than was his wont—brought two fair creatures to the window in a trice—their faces pale with apprehension; but who shall tell the agitation they experienced on seeing Lord De la Zouch and Mr. Aubrey? 'Twas an affecting interview; here was their princely deliverer—the very soul of delicacy and generosity—for as such, indeed, they regarded him, though as yet ignorant of his last noble act of munificence! His Lordship's quick and affectionate eye detected, with much pain, on first seeing them, the ravages of the cankering anxiety which had been so long their lot; how much thinner were both of them, and was more especially Mr. Aubrey, than when he had last seen them! And the mourning which they wore for Lady Stratton made the delicate figures of Mrs. Aubrey and Kate appear slighter than even they really were. Their countenances, also, bore the traces of sorrow and suffering—but theexpressionwas, if possible, lovelier than ever. The fire and spirit of Kate's blue eyes was subdued into an exquisite expression of serenity and pensiveness; but on the present occasion her bosom was agitated by so many conflicting feelings—she felt conscious that her very sense of embarrassment was a delicious one—as gave a surprising vivacity of expression to her features. Lord De la Zouch's heart melted within him, as he looked at them, and reflected on thesufferings through which they had passed, and felt a delighted consciousness of the pleasure which his appearance occasioned that virtuous but long oppressed and harassed family, and in the scene of their graceful and honorable poverty: and devout and earnest were his wish and his hope, that Providence would be pleased to crown with success his interference in their behalf. His Lordship would not be denied on one matter, upon which he declared that he had made up his mind—that they should all of them return with him to dinner in Dover Street;—and, to be sure, the sight of his carriage, which he had ordered to follow him within an hour's time, gave them to understand that he really was in earnest—and they both hastened up to dress, oh, with what bounding hearts, and elastic steps!—Lord De la Zouch felt, as they all sat together in his carriage, as though he were a fond father restored to the presence of long-afflicted children; and his courtesy was touched with an exquisite tenderness. When they entered the spacious and lofty drawing-rooms, which, though then wearing the deserted appearance incident to the season, reminded them of many former hours of splendid enjoyment, they felt a flutter of spirits, which it required no little effort to overcome. The drawing and dining rooms struck them as quite prodigious, from their contrast to the little apartments to which they had been so long accustomed in Vivian Street: and several other little circumstances revived recollections and associations of a painfully interesting nature; but as their spirits grew more exhilarated, they felt a sense of real enjoyment to which all of them had long been strangers. One or two sly allusions made by his Lordship to the probable future occupants of the house, and the more modern air they might choose, perhaps, to give it, suddenly brought as bright a bloom into Kate's cheek, as ever had mantled there! When they had returned home, itwas impossible to think ofbed—all of them had so much to say, and were in so joyous an excitement; and before they had parted for the night, Aubrey, unable any longer to keep to himself the true source of his enjoyment, electrified them by a frank and full disclosure of the great event of the day!
A day or two afterwards, Lord De la Zouch, having accomplished his benevolent purposes, returned to the Continent, having pledged Mr. Aubrey to communicate with him frequently, and particularly with reference to the progress of the important proceedings which he had caused to be set on foot. The splendid chance which now existed of retrieving his former position, was not allowed by Mr. Aubrey to interfere with his close attention to his professional studies, to which he might yet have to look for the only source of his future subsistence; and he continued his attendance at Mr. Mansfield's chambers with exemplary punctuality and energy. It was not long after Lord De la Zouch's second departure from England, that the melancholy events occurred which have just been narrated—I mean the serious illness of Lord Dreddlington, and the untimely death of Lady Cecilia. The Aubreys had no other intimation of those occurrences than such as they derived from the public papers—from which it appeared that his Lordship's illness had occasioned the fright which had ended in so sad a catastrophe with Lady Cecilia; and that his Lordship's illness had originated in agitation and distress, occasioned by the failure of extensive mercantile speculations into which he had allowed himself to be betrayed by designing persons. In passing down Park Lane, Mr. and Mrs. Aubrey, and Kate, saw a hatchment suspended from the house of Mr. Titmouse; and, some short time afterwards, they saw that bereaved gentleman himself, in the Park, driving a beautiful dark-blue cab, his tiger and he both in mourning—which became them equally. Black greatlyalters most people's appearance; but it effected a peculiar change in Mr. Titmouse; the fact being, however, that, desirous of exhibiting even extra marks of respect for the memory of the dear deceased Lady Cecilia, he had put his sandy mustaches and imperial into mourning, by carefully dressing them with Indian ink, which gave a very touching and pensive character indeed to his features.
While Mr. Pounce and Mr. Quod, after their own quaint fashion, are doing decisive battle with each other in a remote corner of the field of action; and while—to change the figure—Mr. Titmouse's pedigree is being subjected to the gloomy, silent, and mysterious inquisition of the ecclesiastical court, let us turn for a moment to contemplate a pitiable figure, a victim of the infernal machinations of Mr. Gammon—I mean the poor old Earl of Dreddlington. He was yet—a month after the death of his unhappy daughter, Lady Cecilia—staggering under the awful shock which he had experienced. Before he had been in any degree restored to consciousness, she had been buried for nearly three weeks; and the earliest notification to him of the melancholy occurrence, was the deep mourning habiliments of Miss Macspleuchan, who scarcely ever quitted his bedside. When, in a feeble and tremulous voice, he inquired as to the cause of his daughter's death, he could get no other account of it—either from Miss Macspleuchan, his physicians, or the Duke of Tantallan—than that it had been occasioned by the shock of suddenly seeing his Lordship brought home seriously ill, she being, moreover, in a very critical state of health. When, at length, he pressed and challenged Miss Macspleuchan upon the matter—viz. the reality of the blighting discovery of Mr. Titmouse's illegitimacy—she resolutely maintained that he was laboring altogether under a delusion—indeed a double delusion; first, as to his imaginary conversation with Mr. Gammon; andsecondly, as to his supposed communication of it to Lady Cecilia. Her heart was smitten, however, by the steadfast look of mournful incredulity with which the earl regarded her from time to time; and, when alone, she reproached herself in tears with the fraud she was practising upon the desolate and broken-hearted old man. The duke, however, seconded by the physician, was peremptory on the point, believing that otherwise the earl's recovery was impossible; and as his Grace invaluably joined Miss Macspleuchan in treating the mere mention of the matter as but the figment of a disordered brain, the poor earl was at length silenced if not convinced. He peremptorily prohibited Mr. Titmouse, however, from entering his house—much more from appearing in his presence; and there was little difficulty in making that gentleman seem satisfied that the sole cause of his exclusion was his cruelty and profligacy towards the late Lady Cecilia:—whereas, he knew all the while, and with a sickening inward shudder, the real reason—of which he had been apprised by Mr. Gammon. Very shortly after the earl's illness, the Duke of Tantallan had sent for Mr. Titmouse to interrogate him upon the subject of his Lordship's representations; but Mr. Gammon had been beforehand with the duke, and thoroughly tutored Titmouse—dull and weak though he was—in the part he was to play, and which Mr. Gammon had striven to make as easy to him as possible. The little ape started with well-feigned astonishment, indignation, and disgust, as soon as the duke had mentioned the matter, and said very little—(such were Gammon's peremptory injunctions)—and that little only in expression of amazement—that any one could attach the slightest importance to the mere wanderings of a brain disturbed by illness. 'Twas certainly a ticklish matter, the duke felt, to press too far, or to think of intrusting it to third parties. His Grace very naturallyconcluded, that what his own superior tact and acuteness had failed in eliciting, could be detected by no one else. He frequently pressed Mr. Gammon, however, upon the subject; but that gentleman maintained the same calm front he had exhibited when first questioned by the duke; giving the same account of all he knew of Titmouse's pedigree—and clinching the matter by sending to his Grace a copy of the brief, and of the short-hand writer's notes of the trial—challenging, at the same time, the most rigorous investigation into every circumstance in the case. It was very natural for the duke, under these circumstances, to yield at length, and feel satisfied that the whole affair rested on no other basis than the distempered brain of his suffering kinsman. Nothing shook his Grace more, however, than the sight of Titmouse: for he looked, verily, one whom it was exceedingly difficult to suppose possessed of one drop of aristocratic blood!—Miss Macspleuchan, a woman of superior acuteness, was infinitely more difficult to satisfy upon the subject than the duke; and though shesaidlittle, her manner showed that she was satisfied of the existence of some dreadful mystery or other, connected with Mr. Titmouse, of which Mr. Gammon was master—and the premature discovery of which had produced the deplorable effects upon the earl under which he was at that moment suffering. The earl, when alone with her, and unconscious of her presence, talked to himself constantly in the same strain; and when conversing with her, in his intervals of consciousness, repeated over and over again, without the slightest variation, facts which seemed as it were to have been burned in upon his brain. Miss Macspleuchan had—to conceal nothing from the reader—begun to cherish very warm feelings of attachment to Mr. Gammon; whose striking person, fascinating conversation, and flattering attention to herself—a thing quite unusual on the partof any of the earl's visitors—were well calculated to conduce to such a result. But from the moment of Lord Dreddlington's having made the statement which had been attended by such dreadful consequences, her feelings towards Mr. Gammon had been completely chilled and alienated. Her demeanor, on the few occasions of their meeting, was constrained and distant; her countenance clouded with suspicion, her manners frozen with reserve and hauteur.
Mr. Gammon's first interview with the earl, after his illness and bereavement, had become a matter of absolute necessity—and was at his Lordship's instance; his wishes being conveyed through the Duke of Tantallan, who had intimated to him that it was indeed indispensable, if only to settle some matters of business, of pressing exigency, connected with the failure of the Artificial Rain Company. The duke was with his noble kinsman at the time of Mr. Gammon's calling—having intended to be present at the interview. They awaited his arrival in the earl's library. It is very difficult to describe the feelings with which Mr. Gammon anticipated and prepared for the appointed interview with the man on whom he had inflicted such frightful evil, towards whom he felt that he had acted the part of a fiend. How had he dealt with the absolute and unrestrained confidence which the earl had reposed in him! The main prop and pillar of the earl's existence—family pride—Gammon had snapped asunder beneath him; and as for fortune—Gammon knew that the earl was absolutely ruined. Not, however, that Gammon really felt any commiseration for his victim: his anxiety was only as to how he should extricate himself from liability in respect of it. And had not a man of even his marble heart cause for apprehension, in approaching the earl on that occasion, to be interrogated concerning Titmouse—to look the earl in the face, and deny what had passed between them;—and that,too, when the rigid investigation was pending which might, within a few short weeks, convict and expose him to the scorn—the indignation—of society, as a monster of fraud and falsehood?
The earl sat in his library, dressed in deep black, which hung upon his shrunk attenuated figure, as upon an old skeleton. He looked twenty years older than he had appeared two short months before. His hair, white as snow, his pallid emaciated cheek, his weak and wandering eye, and a slight tremulous motion about his head and shoulders—all showed the mere wreck of a man that he had become, and would have shocked and subdued the feelings of any beholder. What a contrast he presented to the portly and commanding figure of the Duke of Tantallan, who sat beside him, with a brow clouded by anxiety and apprehension! At length—"Mr. Gammon, my Lord," said the servant, in a low tone, after gently opening the door.
"Show him in," said the duke, rather nervously, adding to the earl in a hurried whisper,—"now be calm—my dear Dreddlington—be calm—it will be over in a few minutes' time."—The earl's lips quivered a little, his thin white hands trembled, and his eyes were directed towards the door with a look of most mournful apprehension, as the fiend entered. Mr. Gammon was pale, and evidently nervous and excited; his habitual self-command, however, would have concealed it from any but a practised observer. What a glance was that with which he first saw the earl!—"It gives me deep pain, my Lord," said he, in a low tone, slowly advancing with an air of profound deference and sympathy, "to perceive that you have been so great a sufferer."
"Will you take a chair, sir?" said the duke, pointing to one which the servant had brought for him, and in which Gammon sat down,with a courteous inclination towards the duke; and observing that Lord Dreddlington's face had become suddenly flushed, while his lips moved as if he were speaking, "You see," added his Grace, "that my Lord Dreddlington is but slowly recovering!"—Gammon sighed, and gazed at the earl with an expression of infinite concern.
"Is it true, sir?" inquired the earl, after a moment's interval of silence—evidently with a desperate effort.
Gammon felt both of his companions eying him intently, as he answered calmly—"Alas!—your Lordship of course alludes to that unhappy Company"——
"Is it true, sir?" repeated the earl, altogether disregarding Gammon's attempt at evasion.
"You cannot but be aware, Mr. Gammon, of the subject to which my Lord Dreddlington is alluding"—said the duke, sternly, in a low tone.
"Oh!" exclaimed Gammon, with a slight shrug of his shoulders and a sigh—"I understand that your Lordship is referring to some conversation which you supposed has passed between your Lordship and me concerning Mr. Titmouse!"
"Sir—sir—yes! yes!" gasped the earl, gazing at him intently.
"Well, my Lord, I have heard with inexpressible astonishment that you suppose I told your Lordship that he wasillegitimate."
"Ay," said the earl, with tremulous eagerness.
"Oh, my Lord, you are really laboring under as complete a delusion as ever man"—commenced Gammon, with a melancholy smile.
"Sir—Mr. Gammon—do you believe that there isno God?—thatHedoes not know the—the"—interrupted the earl, but ceased, apparently overpowered by his emotions. Gammon looked in appealingsilence at the duke.
"What makes you imagine, sir, that I am bereft of reason and memory?" presently inquired the earl, with a strength of voice and manner which alarmed Gammon.
"I cannot account, my Lord, for the extraordinary hallucination which seems"——
"And I suppose, sir, I am equally dreaming about the rent-charge for two thousand a-year, which you have got on the Yatton pro"——
"Oh, pardon—pardon me, my Lord! All pure—absolute delusion and fiction!" interrupted Gammon, with a confident smile, a look, and a tone of voice, which would have staggered the most incredulous.
The earl raised his thin white trembling hand, and pressed it against his forehead for a moment; and then said, turning to the duke—"He would deny that he is now in our presence!"
"My dear Dreddlington—don't, for God's sake, excite yourself," said the duke, anxiously; adding after a pause, "I am as persuaded as I am of my existence, that you're under a complete delusion! Recollect your serious illness—every one is subject to this sort of thing when he's been so ill as you have!"
"Oh, Tantallan! Tantallan!" replied the earl, mournfully shaking his head—"I take God to witness how this man is lying!" The duke glanced hastily at Gammon as these words were uttered, and observed that he had gone suddenly pale, and was in the act of rising from his chair.
"Pray, Mr. Gammon"——commenced the duke, imploringly.
"I can make very great allowance, I assure your Grace, for his Lordship's situation—but there are bounds which I will permit no man living, under any circumstances, to overstep with impunity,"said Gammon, calmly but resolutely—overjoyed at obtaining such a pretext for abruptly terminating the embarrassing interview—"and unless his Lordship chooses instantly to retract what he has said, and apologize for it, I will never enter his presence again!"
"Oh—he had better go!" said the earl, feebly, addressing the duke, evidently averting his face from Gammon with disgust and horror.
"Mr. Gammon,prayresume your seat," said the duke, significantly—"You are bound to regard the words as not having been spoken."
"I thank your Grace," replied Gammon, determinedly—"but I require an explicit retractation. I entertain a deep deference towards your Grace, but am also aware of what is due to myself. My Lord," he added, as if at a sudden impulse, addressing the earl, "do permit me to request your Lordship to withdraw and apologize for"——But the earl turned his face aside; and extending his hand towards Gammon, feebly motioned him away; on which, with a low bow to the Duke of Tantallan, Gammon took his hat and moved towards the door.
"Sir—Mr. Gammon—youmustnot go," said the duke, in an earnest and commanding manner—"you are here on business, of pressing importance—allthismust pass away and be forgotten."
"Your GraceI shall be most happy to attend at any time, and anywhere; but this room I quit instantly."
"Then, sir, have the goodness to walk into the next," said the duke, somewhat imperiously, "and I will come to you presently." Mr. Gammon bowed and withdrew.
"Oh God! how atrocious is the conduct of that man!" said the earl, when they were left alone.
"Really, Dreddlington, you must get rid of these—these—absurd notions."
"Let me never see his face again!" replied the earl, feebly. "I have but a short time to live, and that time the sight ofhim, I feel, makes still shorter!" The duke looked both vexed and embarrassed.
"Come—come—now he's here," continued his Grace, "and on a very important errand—let us have done with the fellow—let us have him back, and I'll tell him you withdraw"——
"Withdraw? Heiswithdrawn," replied the earl, confusedly.
"What d'ye mean, my dear Dreddlington? I say—let me tell him"——
"I mean, it was at his chambers, in Holborn—I pledge my honor, I recollect as if it were yester"——
"Pho, pho!" cried the duke, rather impatiently—"it must be done! He's come on matters of the very last importance—the thing's been put off to the very latest moment on your account—that cursed Company!" The earl looked up at his companion, and a faint smile flitted over his wasted features.
"Ah—I'm now satisfied," said he, shaking his head—"that they must dig a very great depth, indeed, before they come to the copper." The duke looked puzzled, but said hastily, "That's right!—I'll have him back, and you'll allow me to say it's all a mistake?"
"Certainly—I am satisfied of it."
"That will do, my dear Dreddlington!—That's the way such nonsenseshouldbe put an end to," said the duke, and, ringing the bell, ordered the servant to request Mr. Gammon to return. After a brief interval, that gentleman re-entered the library, but with some sternness and reluctance of manner.
"Mr. Gammon," replied the duke, a little quickly, "my Lord Dreddlington owns he was mistaken—he, of course, withdraws theexpression—so we had better at once to business"——
"Ay—certainly!—certainly! Have you the papers with you, Mr. Gammon?" inquired the earl, while his trembling fingers held his gold spectacles. Mr. Gammon bowed rather haughtily, and resuming the chair he had quitted, drew it to the table, and opened a little packet.
"It was a ridiculous affair, I am afraid, sir," said the earl, addressing Mr. Gammon, who felt a little surprised at the altered look and tone of the earl.
"I fear it was extremelyunfortunate, my Lord, in its issue," he replied gravely, arranging his papers.
"The thing did not look so absurdat first, Tantallan, I assure you!" said the earl, addressing the duke, who was eying Mr. Gammon's movements with much anxiety; for he had come prepared to state the final result of long negotiations between the creditors and the directors and shareholders of the "Artificial Rain Company."
"These things never do—at first," his Grace replied with a sort of sigh.
"Just show us, Mr. Gammon," said the earl, "if you please, the diagrams and the sections of the strata"——-
"Thewhat?" inquired the duke, turning surprisedly to the earl—so did Mr. Gammon, and for a moment ceased arranging his papers. Both the duke and he turned pale, and gazed in silent dismay at their companion. Gammon felt momentarily sick at heart. It was evident that Lord Dreddlington's mind had gently given way!—There was a smile of indescribable weakness flickering about the mouth; the eyes were unsteady; all sternness had vanished from his brow; and his manner was calm, with even an approach towards cheerfulness. Gammon's face was suddenly blanched, and he glanced with horror at the duke, who, without removing his eyes from LordDreddlington, unconsciously exclaimed, "Oh my God!"
"Is it your Lordship's pleasure"——faltered Gammon, his hands trembling visibly.
"You are right, Tantallan," said Lord Dreddlington, as if suddenly struck by the peculiar look with which the duke continued to regard him. "You shall hear all; but we must be alone. Sir, you may retire, and be in attendance another day," he added, abruptly addressing Gammon, with all his former stateliness of manner, but with a feeble voice. Mr. Gammon, very greatly agitated, hastily put together the documents which he had partially arranged on the table, and with a profound bow withdrew.
"At nine this evening—in Portman Square, sir, if you please," said the duke, tremulously.
"I will attend your Grace," said Gammon, and with not a little trepidation closed the door after him; on which the earl proceeded, in a very anxious and mysterious manner, to intimate the existence of a conspiracy on the part of the Earl of Fitzwalter and others, to prevent his—Lord Dreddlington's—obtaining a marquisate, on the ground that he had been connected with Sir Sharper Bubble in a swindling company; and his Lordship had good grounds for believing that Mr. Gammon was secretly lending his assistance to the undertaking, and his coming there that morning with the papers relating to the intended purchase of the Isle of Dogs, was in furtherance of his treacherous objects! The duke listened in silent dismay to this rambling account of the imaginary conspiracy, and had just determined upon quietly sending for Miss Macspleuchan, when the earl abruptly paused, and after a confused stare at his companion, pressed his hand to his forehead, and said with hesitation and embarrassment—"Pray, Tantallan, don't think anything more about what I have been saying! I—I—feel that Ihave been talking nonsense—incoherently—Surely it must have struckyou so? Eh, Tantallan?"
There was something so imbecile and miserable in the look with which the earl regarded his companion, that the duke for a moment could not reply to him. At length, "My dear Dreddlington," said he, gently grasping his hand, "you are at present only a little excited—you will soon recover yourself. Let us ask Miss Macspleuchan to join us, as she is sitting all alone up-stairs."
"Not just now, Tantallan—I feel I have wandered a little, but all is now right again. He is gone, is he?" The duke nodded. "The sight of that man was at first too much for me; I felt oppressed and confused, but I thought it right to struggle against it!—He denied it all?—Is not that enough to drive a man out of his senses?"
"My dear Dreddlington, we shall get wrong again—let us quit the subject," said the duke, anxiously.
"No," replied the earl, languidly, "do not fear me; I feel quite myself again! I can only repeat to you, that that man's conversation with me about—about"—he shuddered—"as certainly happened, as the heavens are above us!" The earl had really, at all events for the present, recovered from the temporary confusion into which his thoughts had fallen; and proceeded, with as much energy as his shattered condition would admit of, to give the duke, as he had often done before, a distinct and consistent account of all that had taken place at Mr. Gammon's chambers:—and as he went on, it all of a sudden occurred to his Grace, for the first time—how improbable is it that Lord Dreddlington should haveinventeda scene, which he has uniformly delineated in almost the same words? What but truth and reality could enable him to preserve such a consistency in describing a transaction with such minutecircumstantiality? Having once looked at the matter in this new light, every succeeding moment saw him more and more satisfied that such was the true view of it; and before he had quitted his unfortunate kinsman, he had pretty nearly convinced himself of three things; first, that Mr. Titmouse was a hideous little base-born miscreant and impostor; secondly, that Mr. Gammon must be the profoundest scoundrel living; and lastly, that it was very singular that he—the duke—had been so long in arriving at such a conclusion. But then, it subsequently occurred to the sagacious duke—how was he to act? What position was he to assume with Mr. Gammon, when he came, in the evening, in obedience to his Grace's own appointment? What reasons could he assign for his sudden change of opinion? Nothing new had occurred: and he felt a little embarrassed, seeing that all he should be able to say would be that he had at length suddenly taken a different view of facts long well known! At all events, he determined to put the brief of Mr. Titmouse's case, used at the trials, and which Mr. Gammon had some time before forwarded to his Grace's house, into the hands of some eminent lawyer, for a candid and confidential opinion.
Mr. Gammon, on quitting Lord Dreddlington's house, quickly recovered from the momentary shock which he had suffered in the earl's presence; and—shall I record the fact?—all other feelings and all his fears were merged in one of delight and exultation at the awful calamity which had befallen Lord Dreddlington: no one, Mr. Gammon considered, would thenceforth think of attaching the least importance to anything the earl might say, or had said, but would doubtless deem it the mere creation of a disordered brain. Then all that would be necessary, would be the silencing Titmouse—no difficult matter, since even he could comprehend that secrecy was to him a matter of salvation or destruction! But then,again, like a criminal's chance glance at the hideous guillotine or gallows in the distance—a recollection of the ecclesiastical inquiry, at that instant in vigorous action, blanched the cheek of Mr. Gammon, and dashed all his new hopes to the ground. If those infernal inquisitorsshoulddiscover all, and thereby demonstrate Titmouse's illegitimacy, how perfectly frightful would be the position of Mr. Gammon! What would then avail him the insanity of Lord Dreddlington? Would it not, on the contrary, be then attributed to the right cause—the atrocious cruelty and villany which had been practised upon him? How irretrievably was Gammon committed by his repeated and solemn asseverations to Miss Macspleuchan and the Earl of Dreddlington? The evidence which sufficed to entitle Mr. Aubrey, in preference to Mr. Titmouse, to administer to Lady Stratton, would also suffice to entitle him to an immediate restoration to the Yatton property! And would the matter rest there? Would no steps be taken, in such an event, to fix him—Gammon—as a partner, or a prime mover, in the frauds and conspiracy by which alone, it would then be alleged, Titmouse had been enabled to recover the property? Absorbed by these pleasant contemplations, he was so lost to all around him, that he was within an ace of being crushed to death under the wheels of an enormous coal-wagon, which he had not seen approaching, as he crossed the street. It might, perhaps, have been well had it been so—the accident would certainly have saved him from a "sea of troubles," on which, for aught we can at present see, he may be tossed for the remainder of his life.
The chief object of Mr. Gammon's interview with the Earl of Dreddlington, had been to communicate to his Lordship information concerning the alarming position in which he stood with reference to the defunct Artificial Rain Company. The very prominent andactive part which his Lordship had been seduced into taking, in the patronage and management of that Company, had naturally marked him out as the fittest object of attack to the creditors. The Company had no Act of Parliament, nor charter, nor deed of settlement; it was simply a huge unwieldypartnership, consisting of all such persons as could be shown to be interested, or to have held themselves out to the world as interested, in it: and consequently, whether individually known or not, liable to the public who had dealt with the Company, and given credit to it; on the very obvious principle of equity, that all who would seek to share the profits of a speculation must be responsible for its liabilities. In the present instance, had it not been for the circumstance of there being a considerable number of weak, inexperienced, but responsible adventurers, who, by entering into the affair, had become liable to share Lord Dreddlington's burden of responsibility, his Lordship must have been totally ruined to all intents and purposes.[16]As soon as Sir Sharper Bubble's absconding had opened the eyes of the public, and of the shareholders, it became necessary to take instant measures for ascertaining the exact state of affairs—and the liabilities which had been contracted. Heavens! what a frightful array of creditors now made their appearance against the Artificial Rain Company! It was inconceivable how so many, and to so immense an amount, could have arisen during the short period of the Company's being in existence; but the fact is, that there are always thousands of persons who, as soon as they once see individuals of undoubted responsibility fairly committed to a speculation of this sort, will give almost unlimited credit, and supply anything which may be ordered on behalf, or for the purposes, of the Company. It had originated in a supposed grand discovery of our philosophical friend, Dr. Diabolus Gander, thatthere were certain modes of operating upon the atmosphere, by means of electrical agency, which would insure an abundant supply of rain in seasons of the greatest drought. Now, first and foremost among the creditors of the Company, was that distinguished philosopher himself; who, to constitute himself effectually a creditor, had cunningly declined to take any shares in the concern!—He now claimed £1,700 for a series of "preliminary experiments," independently of compensation for his time and services in conducting the aforesaid experiments;—and, in order to put the question ofliabilitybeyond all doubt, the doctor had taken care, from time to time, to invite the more distinguished and wealthy of the shareholders to come and witness his doings—always carefully noting down their names, and the names also of the witnesses who could prove such attendance—the interest they took in the experiments—their expressed good wishes for the success of the Company, &c. &c., and their repeated acknowledgments of the uniform courtesy of the worthy doctor, who thought no pains too great to explain the nature of his surprising operations. Then, again, he had entered into an agreement, signed by Lord Dreddlington, and one or two others on behalf of the Company, by which he was appointed "permanent scientific director" for a period of ten years, at a salary of £1,000 a-year, over and above the sums agreed to be paid him for "collateral and supplementary services." This latter claim, however, the doctor very generously offered to compromise, in consideration of the exhalation of the Company, on payment of four thousand pounds down!! Then came a demand amounting to little short of £25,000 for an inconceivable quantity of copper wire, which had been purchased for the purpose of being used in all the cities and towns which chose to avail themselves of the services of the Company, in the following way:—viz. a completecircle of electric communication was to be obtained, by attaching wires to the summits of all the church steeples, and it was necessary that such wires should be of considerable strength and thickness, to prevent their being broken by birds flying against, and perching upon them: (But Dr. Gander intimated that he had very nearly discovered a mode of charging the wires, which would cause any bird coming into contact with them, immediately to fall down dead.) Then there were fearful charges for at least nine miles' length of leaden pipes and hose, and for steam-engines, and electrical machines, and so forth; particularly an item of eight thousand pounds for the expenses of trying the experiment in a village in the extremity of Cornwall, and which was very nearly completed, when the unfortunate event occurred which occasioned the sudden break up of the Company. This will suffice to give the uninitiated reader a glimpse of the real nature of the liabilities incurred by those who had become partners in this splendid undertaking. Dr. Gander got two actions commenced the very day after the departure of Sir Sharper Bubble, against six of the principal shareholders, in respect of his "preliminary experiments," and his agreement for ten years' service; and writs came fluttering in almost daily; all which occurrences rendered it necessary to take measures for coming speedily to an amicable compromise. After very great exertions, and attending many meetings, Mr. Gammon succeeded in provisionally extricating Lord Dreddlington, on his paying down, within twelve months, the sum of £18,000; the Duke of Tantallan was in for some £8,000, the Marquis of Marmalade for £6,000: and the latter two peers made the most solemn vows never to have anything to do again with joint-stock companies: though it must be owned that they had been, as the phrase is, "let off easily." But I must not disguise from thereader that the Artificial Rain Company was not the only one with which these distinguished individuals, together with Lord Dreddlington, had become connected—there was the Gunpowder and Fresh Water Company, of which Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, were the solicitors—butsufficient for the day is the evil thereof; and let it suffice for the present to say, that some short time afterwards, the Duke of Tantallan, on the part of the Earl of Dreddlington, paid down the sum of £10,000 on account of the above-mentioned sum of £18,000, the remainder of which was to be called for in six months' time. Mr. Gammon, however, could not think of the possibility of the Gunpowder Company's explosion without a shudder, on account of the dreadful extent to which Lord Dreddlington was implicated, and from which Gammon feared that there really were no means of extricating him. What would he have given never to have seduced the earl into embarking into any such speculations? Nay, what would he not have given, never to have set eyes upon either the Earl of Dreddlington or the Lady Cecilia? What advantage had he ever gained, after all, by his desperate grasp after aristocratic connection? If, however, the earl should prove really and permanently insane, what a godsend would such an event be, in every point of view, to Gammon—silencing forever the chief sufferer and witness—and saving Gammon from all the endless vexations and anxieties arising out of personal explanations and collisions with the man, whom he had drawn into the vortex of pecuniary ruin—shielding Gammon, in short, from a world of reproaches and execrations.