The dressing-bell rang in Milford Castle; but before its iron tongue had told the guests to make ready for the great business-meal of the day, all of them had sought their chambers, and Lady Anne Mellent was nearly dressed. Five minutes after, she sent her maid to knock at Colonel Middleton's door and tell him that she was going down, and would be glad to speak with him in the drawing-room as soon as he was ready. The maid thought it rather strange, although she was well accustomed to her mistress's various oddities; for, though she knew Lady Anne to be very eccentric, yet she had never before suspected her of coquetting with any one. With abigail penetration she had discovered, by some means or another, that Charles Marston was a favoured suitor; and now to be sent to tell a young, handsome, distinguished-looking man to make haste in dressing, for the purpose of having atête-à-têtewith her mistress before any one else was down, shocked her ideas of propriety very much. Pounds per annum and perquisites, however, are better than all the proprieties in the world, and accordingly she did as she was bid. But few minutes elapsed before Colonel Middleton was in the drawing-room. The maid's ear was certainly too near the keyhole within five minutes after; but she could hear nothing except the indistinct buzz of a low but eager conversation. She then tried what one sense could do to make up for the defect of another, and applied her eye to the aperture which had refused intelligence to her ear. She had the whole farther end of the room before her; but, to her surprise, there she saw Colonel Middleton standing with his back against one of the window-frames, and Lady Anne near him, leaning upon a large carved and gilt chair, while good Mrs. Brice sat writing a note at a table much more in advance.
A moment after a carriage drove up, and the maid ran away, just catching a sight of the velvet coat of Mr. Hargrave as he entered the door.
With stately step the old gentleman followed the servant, who admitted him to the drawing-room, and was met joyously by Lady Anne, who said--
"I am glad you have come, and have come soon."
"Did you suppose I would break my written word, fair châtelaine?" asked the old gentleman, in a somewhat reproachful tone. "Have I been true to a velvet coat and a queue for so many years, to have my faith doubted now-a-days?"
"No, no," said Lady Anne; "but I wish particularly to introduce you to this gentleman, Colonel Middleton, who, though magnanimously prepared to fight his own battles against a very formidable enemy, has listened to my persuasions, and is going to take you into his councils and solicit your advice and assistance. There--go with him, Henry, into the library; tell him the whole story, and the intelligence you have received to-day of the machinations against you."
While she was speaking, Mr. Hargrave from time to time looked with a somewhat inquiring glance from her face to that of Henry Hayley, and then a faint smile came upon his fine though faded features.
"No, no!" cried Lady Anne, laughing, as she remarked it; "you are quite mistaken. He is not the man, and a great deal handsomer. But you will hear all about it in a minute, for the whole must come out now, and you will know the why and the wherefore."
"Come with us," said Henry, addressing her: "we shall need you in our council indeed."
"Well, then, dear Mrs. Brice," said the beautiful girl, "if Lady Fleetwood and the rest come down, say that I will be back in a few minutes."
Lady Fleetwood did come down, and then the other members of the party, one after another, and to each Mrs. Brice delivered Lady Anne's message.
"I wonder where Colonel Middleton is," said Lady Fleetwood, at length, after Mr. Winkworth, who was the last, had been down five minutes.
"He is with Lady Anne in the library," said Mrs. Brice, simply; and Lady Fleetwood's fair and delicate complexion showed a blush as deep as if she had been a young girl just caught in attempting to elope.
Maria remarked her aunt's colour, and she coloured a little too, from sympathy more than anything else; for she felt certain that all her young friend's thoughts and feelings were high, and pure, and noble; but yet she did not wish that Lady Anne would make other people think she was coquetting with Colonel Middleton.
Charles Marston walked towards the window, and tumbled over a footstool; and even Mr. Winkworth seemed a little discomposed.
A few minutes after, the butler threw open the doors, and without looking round, pronounced in pompous tones--"Dinner is on the table, my lady;" but the next moment he perceived that Lady Anne was not in the room, and stood confounded.
"You had better knock at the library door and tell Lady Anne," said Mrs. Brice, in her usual quiet tones.
"Knock at the door!" thought Lady Fleetwood: "well, this is very strange!"
Still they were kept waiting for some minutes; and then--to the infinite relief of some of the party, it must be confessed--the doors on the other side were thrown open, and Lady Anne appeared, leaning on Mr. Hargrave's arm and followed by Colonel Middleton.
"I am afraid you have thought me lost," she said; "but I and my two counsellors here have been considering weighty matters for the good of the nation. Mr. Hargrave, allow me to present you to Lady Fleetwood, who says she had the pleasure of knowing you in years long past. Not a word to her till you are in the dining-room, for the dinner is getting cold. This is my dear friend, Miss Monkton, of whom we were talking two nights ago. Mr. Winkworth--Mr. Hargrave. Charles Marston, let me introduce you to Mr. Hargrave, my future husband."
"A promise before witnesses!" said Mr. Hargrave, with a smile; "but now, my dear lady, let me lead you to the dining-room, for I do not intend to give you up to any one."
The procession was soon formed, and the party sat down to dinner. Lady Anne was peculiarly gay and lively; but every now and then a shade of grave thought came upon her for an instant, which she cast off again as soon, her high spirits seeming to bound up more lightly than ever from the momentary depression. She had contrived to place Colonel Middleton next to Maria, and, if the extraordinary truth must be told, to get Charles Marston next to herself. Once or twice, too, when the conversation at the table was general and Mr. Hargrave was engaged with some one else, she exchanged a few words with Charles Marston in a low tone.
Thus, shortly after the fish and soup had been removed, she said--
"What made you look so gloomy when I came in before dinner? Traitor and rebel! your faith has been wavering."
"Because you are a little tyrant," replied Charles, in the same tone, for his heart now beat freely again; "and you sport with the pain of your subjects."
"They inflict the pain upon themselves," said Lady Anne; and the next moment, there being an interval of silence, she turned to speak with Mr. Hargrave.
Some time afterwards, she took another opportunity to say, "I think, Charles, you will stand by a friend in time of need."
"What do you mean?" he asked, for she spoke very gravely.
"I cannot explain," she said; "but you may be tried within four-and-twenty hours."
"Oh, I understand," replied Charles, and his eye glanced towards Colonel Middleton. "Do not fear; I will stand by him to the last, if I can be of any assistance."
They were again interrupted, and the dinner passed over without anything worth chronicling, till the ladies rose to retire from table. Lady Anne paused for a moment before going out, saying to Mr. Hargrave, "Do not forget the two notes, my dear friend."
"They are gone already," answered Mr. Hargrave: "as I came out I gave them to your butler, bidding him send them by one of my postilions."
When the ladies were gone, Mr. Hargrave naturally resumed the seat which he had occupied at the end of Lady Anne's table, and Mr. Winkworth drew his chair near him.
"Charles Hargrave," he said, laying his hand upon that of the old gentleman, "you have forgotten me."
Mr. Hargrave turned, and looked at him steadfastly. "I have indeed," he said, "though I thought I forgot nothing, and have sometimes lamented, my dear sir, that my memory was too tenacious, especially of affections."
"Yet we were once very intimate," said Mr. Winkworth, "though you are well-nigh twenty years my senior--older in years, I mean, though perhaps younger in body; but it is not wonderful, for I have withered away during nearly thirty years in India, so that, when I take up a little miniature portrait that was painted about the time I knew you, and then look in the glass, I do not know which it would be better to do, to laugh or to cry."
"It is very strange," said Mr. Hargrave. "Will you not recal the circumstances to my mind by some fact? Your voice, I will own, sounds familiar to my ears; but----"
"It is of no consequence just now," replied Mr. Winkworth: "by-and-by, when we can have a little chat alone together, I will bring it all up before you in a minute, like the landscape on the rising of the sun. Suffice it for the present that you are sitting beside an old friend."
Still Mr. Hargrave seemed puzzled, and returned to the subject more than once; but the other only laughed, and in a very few minutes they rose to rejoin the ladies. Then, while Colonel Middleton and Charles Marston walked away to the drawing-room, Mr. Hargrave took the other old gentleman by the arm, saying--
"Now you must give me satisfaction. You have attacked the honour of my memory, and I must have an explanation, lest I should think my faculties are failing."
"Well, let us sit down, then," said Mr. Winkworth; and seating themselves at the table, they remained there for a full hour. When they rejoined the party in the drawing-room, the two old men seemed as gay as any of them; and with music, and a game of chess between Mr. Winkworth and Lady Fleetwood, the evening passed lightly to its close. Half-past eleven o'clock came, without Mr. Hargrave's carriage being announced; but three notes were brought to him by the butler, who informed him at the same time that his servant had returned from Detchton-Grieve.
Mr. Hargrave only said, "Very well;" but Lady Fleetwood thought fit to tease herself about the old gentleman's going home so late. In truth, she looked upon the remote part of the country in which she was as little better than a barbarous land, and the journey back to Detchton-Grieve in as formidable a light as a retreat through a pass in presence of an enemy. Nor could she help expressing her sense of Mr. Hargrave's courage in undertaking such a perilous enterprise; but the old gentleman replied--
"I must decline the glory, my dear lady. I am going to sleep here to-night, and perhaps may spend to-morrow here likewise. This is the first time, dear Lady Anne," he continued, turning to his fair hostess, "that I have slept out of my own house for five-and-twenty years; but what would I not do," he continued, gallantly kissing her hand, "for an approving look from those bright eyes?"
"When we are married, you know, you shall always stay at home," said Lady Anne; "and now I have taken care that everything should be made as comfortable for you as possible. I wish I could have got a drawing of your room at Detchton; then you should have found all things precisely in the same state."
"When Cicero wrote his essay upon the 'Consolations of Old Age,'" said Mr. Hargrave, smiling, "he did not, so far as I remember, include that of being made love to by all the beautiful girls in the neighbourhood. But I am afraid he thought that there might be some portion of bitter under the sweet, and that they only ventured to do so from a knowledge that we are very harmless animals, and may be petted without peril. But now, sweet lady, I will seek my room; for, though I flatter myself I am very hale and healthy under seventy winters, yet I must not forget the good old maxim, that 'early to bed and early to rise' is the way to obtain many desirable things."
This was the signal for the general dispersion of the party; but Henry Hayley contrived to obtain an opportunity of saying in a whisper to Maria--
"Come down early to-morrow, dear Maria. I must speak with you for a few moments as soon as possible. Events are thickening around us, and you may be frightened at some things that are likely to happen, unless I have an opportunity of preparing you for them."
The colour mounted a little into Maria's cheek, but she answered frankly--
"I will come. Where shall I find you?"
"In the library," replied her lover, and they parted for the night; but Maria certainly did not take the best means to ensure early rising, for she lay awake for more than an hour, in anxious and painful thought.
The clock had not struck eight when Maria entered the library at Milford. The servants had just quitted the room: and through the open windows came the perfumed breath of summer, bearing from wild banks, no one knew where, the odours of the honeysuckle and the eglantine. The soft, early beams of unconfirmed day stole in, and streaked the floor with long rays of light; and a merry bird was singing without, in harmony with the fragrance and the sunshine. Joyful to the light heart, soothing to the memories of sorrow, the sweet, calm things of nature are painful to anxiety and dread. They raise not, they speak not of hope. The song of the bird, the odour of the flower, the gleam of the sunshine, are then like the farewell, the parting kiss, the last long look.
Maria felt sadly depressed as she entered the room. At first she did not see her lover, for he was standing in one of the deep windows; but the opening door and her light step instantly called him forth to meet her.
"Thanks, dear one and kind one!" he said, drawing her towards him and kissing her; "you are earlier than I expected, my Maria, but not earlier than I hoped. You are pale, my love: have you rested well?"
Maria shook her head with a sigh.
"How could I rest well with such apprehensions, Henry?" she asked. "I watched with thought till nearly two, and thought again awoke me. But tell me now, Henry, what danger menaces? Your words last night alarmed me sadly."
"No danger, I trust, dear Maria," he answered; "and I did not mean to express any apprehension or to excite any in you; but I thought it best to let you know that the hour of struggle is approaching, in order that you might be prepared for it. Indeed, dearest Maria, it is for your agitation that I fear and feel, more than for any peril to myself, of which I believe here is little or none; but I cannot help being grieved that your love for me should bring even one cloud over the sunshine of a life that I would fain render all bright. I saw how you were agitated when I arrived yesterday; I saw that you had been anxious and apprehensive regarding me; and I asked myself what right I had to make you, whose fate has been shaped in the fairest mould of fortune, take part in the darker lot of one who has been too often the sport of adversity."
"Every right--every right, Henry," she answered warmly; "or at least the best right--the right of affection. But let me share all your thoughts. Do you know, in spite of all you have said, I am half jealous of Anne Mellent. Not that I dream you love her; for I have trust and confidence enough to know that you would never tell me you love me were such the case--and, indeed, what motive could you have? Nor is it that I fancy she loves you; for I have known her from infancy, and never saw the least cloud dim her pure, high heart; but, Henry, it seems as if you had more confidence in her than in me."
He had listened with a smile till she uttered the last words, but then he eagerly replied--
"No! oh, no, dear Maria! do not fancy that for one moment. But perhaps I have been wrong. I should have told you before that she knows more than you do, from other sources. Her father was intimate with one now no more, of whom I will utter no reproachful word, although, to save and screen him, the bright early part of youth has been sacrificed by me. In a word, Maria, she possesses a power over my fate which no other human being has; and frankly and generously she is disposed to use it for my best happiness; making no condition, but only asking as a favour that I will let her unravel the web in her own way. Can I-- could I--refuse her, dear Maria? But yet it is needful that we should often consult together; for, though she suggests most of the steps to be taken, and has bound me by a promise to be silent to every one as to the motives on which she acts, it is very necessary that I should point out to her, from time to time, consequences which, in her somewhat wild and fanciful moods, she does not see."
"Well," replied Maria, with a faint smile, "I suppose an explanation must soon come, and I do believe she loves me as a sister."
"She does indeed," replied Henry; "and this very day all will be explained, I doubt not. But now, dear girl, let me tell you that which is likely immediately to occur. By some means, your uncle, Mr. Scriven, has become fully convinced of my identity with the poor lad whom he pursued so eagerly ten years ago. I know not well how he was first put upon the track, but I imagine by some imprudence----"
"Oh, my aunt Fleetwood! my aunt Fleetwood!" said Maria, with a sigh. "She, I know, told him--with the best intentions--all that she suspects herself; but still she has nothing but suspicion, nor can he have more."
"Yes, indeed," replied Henry; "he has conviction and proof--whether legal or not I do not know; but at all events such is the case, and of course my conduct must soon be determined. Indeed, Mr. Scriven himself is resolved to bring matters to an issue; and from the information I received yesterday in the park, he will probably be here this very day, to point me out as Henry Hayley and charge me openly with a felony."
"And what do you intend to do?" demanded Maria, with an expression full of terror. "Oh, Henry! would it not be better to go away?"
"No, dear girl--no!" he answered; "that cannot be. I will never fly again: indeed, I have now no object. I will meet him face to face, hear all he has to say, let him make his charge, and cast it back upon his own head."
Maria gazed at him in some surprise, for he spoke very sternly; and she asked, in a low and anxious tone--
"But how will you meet the charge, Henry? Will you defy him to prove your identity? or will you acknowledge your own name, and disprove the charge of forgery by the papers of which you told me?"
"Alas, dear Maria! those papers are destroyed," said Henry; and in a few words he told her the fate that had befallen his pocket-book. "Most unfortunately," he added, "I took it with me that very night I was attacked. It was the first time I had carried it for some years; but I was anxious to trace out my mother's family, and in that pocket-book I had put down all the information I had ever gleaned upon the subject."
"But this is ruin, Henry; oh, this is ruin!" exclaimed Maria, in an agony of alarm. "Indeed, indeed, it will be better to fly! Oh, do, Henry--do! I--I will go with you if you wish. He will never, surely, persecute his niece's husband."
"As bitterly as a stranger," answered her lover, gravely; "but no, Maria--dear, generous girl!--no! I will not take advantage even of that kind, noble offer. Nor do I think----"
"But how can you prove your innocence without those papers?" she asked, interrupting him, "especially that declaration of your father?"
"I think I can," he answered; "nay, I am sure I can--thanks to dear Lady Anne. How I shall act must be regulated by circumstances. We have determined to let him evolve his own plans step by step. Excellent Mr. Hargrave is fully in our confidence; and by his advice I will in some degree be guided. What I wished to say now, however, more particularly, is this, dearest girl--I think it would be better for you not to be present at the scene which must ensue upon your uncle's arrival."
"No, Henry--no!" she said; "do not ask that of me. I have promised to be yours--I am yours; and in weal or woe I will stand by your side."
"But it is not alone on account of anything that may happen to me that I make the request," answered Henry, "but because, dearest girl, there may be words spoken, regarding your uncle's conduct towards me and mine, which it may be painful for you to hear. He forces me to meet him as an enemy. If he shows forbearance, so will I; but if he does not--if his hatred and his vindictiveness push him to the last extreme--the accumulated wrongs of many years will find a voice, and a more powerful one, perhaps, than he imagines."
"Stay--let me think a moment," she replied; and then added, after a very short pause, "No, Henry--I thank you much; but I will adhere to my first purpose--I will be present at the whole. It may be painful--nay, it must be so in every way; but still I say, I will stand by your side in all, and will not be scared away by any fears of pain to myself."
"May you have your reward, dear, noble girl!" replied Henry; "and if a life devoted to you can prove my gratitude, that evidence shall not be wanting. My only anxiety is to spare you pain, my Maria; for I tell you, for myself I have no fears. I am sure--I am confident--that my character and my conduct will come out of the trial pure and unstained; and, were it not for the agitation that must befal you in such a scene, I should wish you to hear every word that may be spoken both against me and for me. But I will not try to shake your purpose. It is noble, and high, and like yourself; and I am sure that a compensation will follow for the painful emotions you must undergo, by joyful and well-satisfied feelings hereafter. And now, dear Maria, come out for a while to walk on this sunshiny terrace. We need now have no concealment from any one, for the time is very near when all must be explained."
"Your words comfort me, Henry," replied Maria, "and yet I cannot help feeling alarm; but I will try not to think of what is coming, and enjoy our short hour of happiness without the alloy of painful anticipations."
For twenty minutes they walked backwards and forwards upon the terrace in the bright sunshine. The morning was cool, for the sun had not yet heated the sky; the air was fresh and clear, for the ground was high. The clouds, as they floated along, mingling with the sunshine, produced gleams of purple and gold upon the slopes of the park and the brown mountain tops rising beyond; and Maria, now less anxious, felt that there is a voice speaking of hopes and consolations within the blessed and beautiful bosom of Mature, such as no mortal tongue can afford. Their conversation, too, was very sweet; for both strove to banish, even from memory, that there were dangers in the future, and to fill the present with happy dreams; while still through all came the mellowing shade of past emotions, gently and lightly touching the heart, and making the thrill of strong affection all the more exquisite. At the end of that time Lady Anne joined them, without bonnet or shawl, as gay as ever, as bright, as joyous.
"Is not this delightful, Maria?" she said, as she felt the morning air fanning her cheek, "Who would lag in cities, with their dull clouds and close atmosphere, when there are such scenes and such air as this? When I have lived in London for a fortnight, I wonder at myself. I feel as if I were a stuffed chameleon in a glass case, and have a great inclination to tell my maid to take me out and dust me."
While she was thus speaking, she turned her eyes once to Henry's countenance, and then added abruptly--
"You've been telling her. I see it in both your faces. Whenever Maria's eyebrow goes up in that way, I am sure there is something very busy in her mind. You have been telling her."
"Not more than you permitted," replied Henry. "I have only been preparing her for what must come."
"Foolish man!" cried Lady Anne; "do you not know that you should never prepare a woman's mind for anything? Pain and fear are not like butter or gold, that you can spread out to an infinite thinness. You only augment them by stretching them out through time, without diminishing their weight one grain. Let everything take a woman by surprise; then she will bear up much better under it, for it is once for all."
"But often," replied Henry, "the surprise greatly increases the pain; and I did think that it was absolutely necessary, not only to tell her what was coming, but to assure her that, whatever appearance things might put on, there was little real danger."
"If you were driving a pair of fresh young horses in a curricle, would you say to her, 'The brutes have run away, but do not fear; I will get you safely round that corner, which looks as if it would dash our brains out?' But never mind. I tell you, dear Maria, that there is not the least danger." Such was Lady Anne's reply.
"And now," she added, "let us go and take a walk farther in the park."
"Will you not put something on?" asked Maria. "You will catch cold."
"Not I," answered Lady Anne: "I am so full of warm, high spirits, that nothing, cold can get in. I feel like a general, who is sure of winning, just preparing for a battle. So let us go."
They walked for nearly an hour, and as they were returning they saw a gentleman's carriage standing before the door of the house.
"That's either Sir Harry Henderson or Colonel Mandrake," said Lady Anne. "I hope Mr. Hargrave is down, for I never saw them or heard of them before, yet I have invited them both to breakfast; but still we must get home and be civil. I did not know it was near nine o'clock."
The carriage moved round towards the stables; and as they entered the door of the house, Lady Anne asked a servant who was standing there if Mr. Gunnel had arrived.
"Yes, my lady," replied the man; "he is waiting in the housekeeper's room."
"You go and talk to him, Henry," said Lady Anne; "Maria, come with me, and help me to entertain these county magistrates."
Lady Anne, however, did not find the persons she expected in the drawing-room. Lady Fleetwood was there, and Mr. Winkworth, but neither Mr. Hargrave nor the two gentlemen just arrived. It would seem as if excellent Lady Fleetwood had a sort of presentiment of a coming bustle, for all her good intentions and her little anxieties were in a flutter. She declared that she had been very anxious about Maria, when she heard she had gone out so early, and begged her to recollect that Northumberland was very different from the neighbourhood of London, and that colds were easily caught, but not easily got rid of; adding a number of sage observations of the same kind, much to the amusement of Lady Anne. Then turning upon her fair hostess, she informed her, "that one of the servants had been seeking her, as two gentlemen had just arrived to breakfast," adding, "that they seemed friends of Mr. Hargrave's, who had gone away with them to the library."
"Well," answered Lady Anne, "I dare say he'll soon bring them out again, and so I shall wait here till he does." Nor was she disappointed in her expectation; for in about five minutes Mr. Hargrave returned, with one tall and one short elderly gentleman, who were introduced to Lady Anne in turn, and then to her various guests. Colonel Middleton entered as the ceremony was going on, and to him especially Mr. Hargrave presented the two magistrates, whose demeanour somewhat surprised Maria; for, while tall Colonel Mandrake addressed her lover with a sort of dignified deference, fat little Sir Harry Henderson was all bows and scrapes. Henry received them frankly, but calmly; and a moment or two after, Lady Anne led the way to the breakfast-room. There the meal passed pleasantly enough, no one seeming anxious but Maria; no one showing herself fidgetty but Lady Fleetwood. That dear lady, indeed, did her best to create several little disorders; but, even with the best intentions, she was unsuccessful. A treat, however, was in store for her; for breakfast was just over, and the party had hardly sauntered into the drawing-room, when a post-chaise-and-four rushed up to the doors, and in a minute after the butler appeared, announcing Mr. Scriven.
Maria turned very pale on hearing her uncle's name, and her eyes unconsciously glanced towards her aunt. But poor Lady Fleetwood had turned paler still; for she seemed to divine in an instant all the consequences which acting unadvised in the affairs of others, with nothing but the best intentions to support her, had produced; and when she saw that Mr. Scriven, on entering the room, was followed by Mr. Stolterforth, the banker, her heart sank farther still.
The movements of all parties in the room were characteristic. Mr. Hargrave sat calmly for a minute on his chair, scanning Mr. Scriven with a curious and inquiring eye.
Henry stood firm and erect, with no other appearance of that emotion which the struggle about to commence must necessarily have produced than a slight contraction of the brow and the least possible curl of the lip.
Charles Marston, who was talking with Lady Anne, murmured in a low tone, as soon as he saw the banker following the merchant, "Scriven and Co. once more!" and took a step forward to Henry Hayley's side.
Mr. Winkworth broke off a conversation with Mrs. Brice, put on a large pair of spectacles, and stared full at Mr. Scriven, with a keen, searching look.
The two county magistrates conferred together in a low tone, glancing from time to time at the entering party; and Lady Anne, with graceful ease, but with a colour somewhat heightened, advanced a little before the rest to receive her not unexpected visiter.
Mr. Scriven himself could not be said to be graceful, but he was perfectly unembarrassed. He was pursuing his system, following his game, acting in the same character which he had sustained through life. He had nothing, he thought, to be ashamed of or afraid of--nothing to agitate him but eagerness; and although, it must be confessed, he was more eager in this instance than on ordinary occasions, yet his eagerness was much less intense than that of most men, when seeking even less important objects.
"Good morning, Mr. Scriven," said Lady Anne, in a calm tone. "Good morning, Mr. Stolterforth" (he was her banker). "To what may I owe the pleasure of seeing you? I fear funds must have fallen terribly, or else risen so high that you cannot invest for me, Mr. Stolterforth."
"I am sorry to say that our business at your ladyship's house is of a much more painful nature," replied Mr. Scriven; "but it is not with you."
"Whatever happens in my house must be business of mine," answered Lady Anne, "and therefore I must beg to know it."
Mr. Stolterforth, who had an infinite reverence for Lady Anne's hundreds of thousands--even more, indeed, than for her beauty, though he admired both--remarked a certain twinkle of the eye, which was not satisfactory to him; but Mr. Scriven pushed his point coolly, and, advancing towards Henry Hayley, he said--
"My business is with this person. Sir, I am now in a position to charge you directly with being here under an assumed name and character. Your real name is Henry Hayley. Is it so, or is it not?"
Greatly to the surprise of Maria, and to the utter astonishment of Lady Fleetwood, Colonel Middleton answered, in a cool, determined tone--
"It is not."
"Well then, sir," replied Mr. Scriven, "I am in a condition to prove the fact; and, moreover, that in the month of August, 18--, the same Henry Hayley was charged upon oath with forgery, and a warrant obtained for his apprehension."
"You will prove, sir, what you are able to prove," replied Colonel Middleton, with the same degree of coolness, for everything like agitation had vanished from the moment the struggle began. "However, as you are making a serious charge, you had better, in the first place, consider it well, and the grounds upon which it is founded; and, secondly, you had better make it in a more proper place than the drawing-room of Lady Anne Mellent."
"What! and give you an opportunity of running away again?" replied Mr. Scriven. "There, my good sir, you are mistaken; for I do not intend to lose sight of you till I lodge you in jail."
Hitherto poor Lady Fleetwood had been totally overcome, but she now rose from her chair trembling, and exclaimed--
"Oh, my dear brother! for heaven's sake, don't! You promised me, you know, that you would----"
"Hush!" exclaimed Mr. Scriven. "Margaret, you're a fool. You had better leave the room. No, stay--your evidence may be wanted; I was told at the house of a gentleman named Hargrave, a magistrate for this county, that I should find him here. If he be present, I must beg his assistance in this case."
"My name, sir, is Hargrave," replied that gentleman, rising; "and I am, as you say, a magistrate, and the chairman of the magistrates of this district. I am quite ready to afford any assistance in my power, in a legal manner. Here are also two of my brother justices present--Sir Harry Henderson and Colonel Mandrake--whose opinion will be valuable. May I ask what charge you have to make against this gentleman, Colonel Middleton?"
"I charge him, sir, with forgery," replied Mr. Scriven, "committed rather more than ten years ago, by putting my acceptance to a bill, with intent to defraud Messrs. Stolterforth and Co.; one of the partners of which house is now here with me."
"Where was the forgery committed?" demanded Mr. Hargrave.
"In London, sir," replied Mr. Scriven.
"Then, I am afraid we cannot entertain that charge," said Mr. Hargrave. "Informations should have been sworn, sir, in the county where the act was committed; but I am very willing to give any help in my power. Have you a copy of the depositions, or a warrant against this gentleman, or a copy of the informations--in fact, anything for us to go upon?"
"I have not," answered Mr. Scriven. "I was not aware of such technical niceties, and set out at once, with my friend Mr. Stolterforth, as soon as I had procured evidence sufficient to justify his apprehension; and I do think that, by a fair construction of the law, you yourself can grant a warrant, rather than suffer a person who has already escaped the hands of justice to abscond again."
"It may be so," replied Mr. Hargrave; and then, after speaking a few words to his brother magistrates, he added, "It is my opinion, Mr. Scriven, and that of the other two justices here present, that you should so frame your charge as to bring it more immediately within our cognizance. You state that Colonel Middleton is here under an assumed name; and, if you suspect that name is assumed for any illegal purpose, an information upon oath to that effect will quite alter the case, and enable us more satisfactorily to deal with the charge. Are you prepared to make one?"
"I am," answered Mr. Scriven. "I charge him with being here under an assumed name, upon fraudulent purposes towards my niece, and also with the view of avoiding apprehension upon a more serious accusation."
"That will do," answered Mr. Hargrave; "but we must conduct matters a little more formally."
"One word, if you please, my dear sir," said Henry, advancing a little. "For my own part, I have not the slightest objection to your dealing with the whole case, although several persons whom I might wish to call upon as evidence are now in London; and as this is merely, I take it, a preliminary examination, I promise you, if you like to go into the whole case, I will myself take no steps whatsoever hereafter, in consequence of a want of jurisdiction."
"We shall see as we proceed," replied Mr. Hargrave. "Mr. Scriven's information must be reduced to proper form; but it very luckily happens that our clerk has come over this morning on some business; and with Lady Anne's permission we shall convert her library into a justice-room, and deal with the case at once."
"I trust it is to be an open court," said Lady Anne; "for where so serious a charge is made against one of my guests, I feel, of course, personally interested."
"Oh, undoubtedly it is an open court," replied Mr. Hargrave; "for I could not suffer an investigation of so serious a nature to be carried on in secret, even if the accused were my most intimate friend. We will adjourn then to the library, if you please, which will be more convenient, and I will send for the magistrates' clerk. You shall sit upon the bench, fair lady, although I almost think the interest of the matter may be too much for you."
"Oh, dear, no!" replied Lady Anne: "I can bear up against harder things than this. Come, Maria;" and she linked her arm in that of her friend.
The emotions of Maria Monkton during the whole of this scene would be difficult to describe minutely. Much pain, much agitation, she certainly had suffered, and the colour had risen warmly in her cheek when her uncle had coupled her name with Colonel Middleton; but, upon the whole, her courage had rather risen than fallen, and her composure had in a great degree returned. Henry's perfect coolness, and the gentlemanly dignity with which he treated her uncle's charge, had not been without their effect upon her; and she had remarked with surprise, but with satisfaction also, that the accusation had not called forth an expression of wonder from the magistrates before whom it was made: in short, that they all seemed in some measure prepared for it.
The party then proceeded to the library, Lady Fleetwood, as they went, endeavouring to communicate something to Mr. Scriven in a low tone, and that worthy gentleman turning rudely away from her. The magistrates took their seats on one side of the large, old-fashioned library table. The clerk was sent for, and almost immediately appeared; and after a good deal of trouble he contrived to reduce the somewhat loosely-worded charge of Mr. Scriven to a technical form. When this was done, the accuser was sworn to his information; and Mr. Hargrave then, turning towards him, said--
"Now, Mr. Scriven, will you have the goodness to bring forward your proofs?"
"In the first place," said Mr. Scriven, "the likeness is so exceedingly strong that there can hardly be a doubt. From the likeness alone I am ready to swear that I believe the person calling himself Colonel Middleton to be no other than Henry Hayley."
"We have so many cases of mistaken identity," said Mr. Hargrave, "that it will require very strong evidence to establish the fact by mere resemblance. Pray, how long ago is it since you saw this Henry Hayley?"
"Somewhat more than ten years," answered Mr. Scriven.
"Humph!" said Mr. Hargrave: "what age was he then?"
"I believe, between sixteen and seventeen," answered the merchant.
"Are they of the same height?" inquired the magistrate.
"Oh, dear, no," was the reply: "Henry Hayley was decidedly shorter; but, if you recollect his age, that is easily accounted for."
"Humph!" said Mr. Hargrave again. "Have you any other persons ready to swear to the identity?"
"Yes," was the reply. "Mr. Stolterforth here must remember him very well."
"We are ready to take his deposition," said Mr. Hargrave; and Mr. Stolterforth, coming forward with some hesitation, deposed to the best of his knowledge and belief that the person before him was the same Henry Hayley who had absconded ten years before.
Mr. Scriven then called upon Charles Marston, who came forward without hesitation, and was asked as to the resemblance.
"They are very like, certainly," he said with a smile; "but still, either my sight is not as good as my uncle's, or else my spectacles do not magnify as much as his; for I must confess that, though I was at school with Henry Hayley, and have been long acquainted with Colonel Middleton, I did not perceive the likeness till Mr. Scriven pointed it out. I always thought him like somebody I had known, but could not tell whom."
"Have you any question to ask the witness, colonel?" said Sir Harry Henderson, turning to the accused.
"Merely this," replied Henry: "you have said that you have known me long, Marston. Have you frequently seen me in society?"
"Oh, dear, yes," replied Charles: "in the society of Englishmen, Spaniards, and Italians."
"Then by what name did I usually go, and how was I recognised and received?" was the next question.
"By the name of Colonel Middleton," replied Charles Marston; "and under that name you were always recognised and received as a very distinguished officer in the Spanish service, and the nephew of Don Balthazar de Xamorça, a grandee of Spain, by the marriage of his niece with an English gentleman. I have conversed with several noble Spaniards, who claim close kindred with you by the mother's side; and----"
"This is all hearsay," said Mr. Scriven, "and I object----"
"Hold your tongue, sir!" said Colonel Mandrake, sharply. "The magistrates will object when they think the evidence inadmissible. Go on, if you please, Mr. Marston."
"I was only going to say," continued Charles, "that I can take upon myself to swear that Colonel Middleton succeeded to a considerable portion of the property of Don Balthazar, on account of his relationship, for I heard it from persons who shared with him."
"Humph!" said Mr. Hargrave again. "I think, as far as we have gone yet, Mr. Scriven, you have made out a case of strong resemblance, but nothing more."
"I will do more presently," replied Mr. Scriven, drily; "but I will first call my sister, Lady Fleetwood."
In a state of bewilderment and agitation perfectly indescribable, Lady Fleetwood advanced to the table, in that exact frame of mind from which a skilful advocate can extract anything upon earth. She would have sworn, under a little management, that the sun was black and the moon blue; and, to say the truth, if Mr. Scriven had been wise, he would have let her alone, for at that moment she was a sort of revolving gun, and there was no knowing in which direction she would fire. As to keeping her to the point, that was quite out of the question. She said she thought it was exceedingly cruel and unpardonable of her brother to bring forward that charge, when he had formally promised her not to do so, and that she never would have told him a word about Colonel Middleton being Henry Hayley, if he had not given his word that he would do everything he could to help him.
"Then you know him to be Henry Hayley?" said Mr. Scriven, fixing his cold eyes upon her.
"I know you would do anything to prevent his marrying Maria," said Lady Fleetwood, now really angry. "You would swear away his life, though I am quite sure he never committed the forgery at all, and I believe you're sure of it too."
"But you are sure he is Henry Hayley?" reiterated Mr. Scriven: "remember you are on your oath, Margaret."
"I believe you must answer the question, Lady Fleetwood," said Mr. Hargrave.
"Well, I do believe he is," said Lady Fleetwood; "but I am sure I never would have told my brother about the man coming to my house, and threatening to inform against the poor young gentleman, if he had not promised to help him."
"That will do," said Mr. Scriven, coolly; and one of the magistrates inquired whether the accused had any questions to put to the witness.
Henry, however, declined; and as Lady Fleetwood was retiring, he took her hand, saying in a kindly tone--
"Do not agitate yourself, my dear lady. You have not done me the slightest harm."
"I am very glad of it," replied Lady Fleetwood, warmly; "for I am sure I did it all with the best intentions."
"I suppose you have other evidence to produce, Mr. Scriven?" said Mr. Hargrave.
Mr. Scriven hesitated. He felt he was coming upon the most dangerous part of his case; for, though he had been bold in anticipation, he was less so in act.
Mr. Hargrave, however, continued:--
"I must look upon the testimony of Mr. Marston, that Colonel Middleton has long gone under the name he now bears, and is believed to be entitled to it by persons who have not only known him from youth, but have had the best means of and strongest motives for ascertaining who he is, and for resisting his pretensions if they were false, as something very positive; against which we have a mere expression of belief on the other side. We must have something more, sir, to satisfy us."
"Besides, I want to hear something about this man who used threats," said Colonel Mandrake.
"I am coming to that this moment," said Mr. Scriven, seeing that he must necessarily proceed if he was determined to succeed, and remembering that his companion, Mr. Stolterforth, was well aware that he had what appeared strong corroborative evidence against the man whom he accused. "I think I have proved sufficiently that the likeness is so strong as to justify reasonable suspicion; and I must observe that you have not heard one witness yet who, having known the defendant more than ten years under the name of Middleton, can establish that he is not the same man as Henry Hayley. I therefore think you would be justified in granting a warrant against him; but I will produce further evidence if it be needful."
Here the clerk whispered a word or two to Mr. Hargrave, who inquired, apparently in consequence--
"Pray, Mr. Scriven, under what circumstances was the warrant against this said Henry Hayley quashed or dropped?"
The merchant hesitated for a moment, as if not very sure whether it would be better to enter into the details or not; and his first reply was vague and unsatisfactory.
But Mr. Hargrave pressed him home.
"The clerk informs me," he said, "that he remembers the case quite well; and that the warrant was dropped because the officer entrusted with the execution of it, after having pursued the fugitive into Italy, found him there in a dying state, and subsequently saw his dead body and witnessed his funeral. Do you admit these facts or do you not, sir?"
"I admit that the officer saw a dead body, which he was told was that of Henry Hayley," Mr. Scriven replied; "and he might witness the funeral for aught I know; but I maintain that there was a juggle in all this."
"Well, sir," answered Mr. Hargrave, "this is, at all events, strong presumptive evidence that Colonel Middleton cannot be Henry Hayley."
"Of course," said Colonel Mandrake; "for if Henry Hayley died in Italy, Henry Hayley cannot be living here. We have not yet come to the resurrection of the just, Mr. Scriven."
"We may have come to the resurrection of the unjust, however," replied Mr. Scriven, uttering a joke, for the first time in his life; "and that, I think, I can prove, notwithstanding all opposition."
"We must certainly have more evidence, or dismiss the charge," said Mr. Hargrave: "there is nothing before us which we can either deal with ourselves or send to another court. I say this much, although Colonel Middleton has not yet commenced his defence."
"Well, then, more evidence you shall have," answered Mr. Scriven. "I will beg you to send for the man whom we brought hither from London in our chaise."
This request was immediately complied with; and in a minute or two the worthy gentleman who has been named Sam was brought into the room, with Mr. Scriven's servant, who had received especial directions not to lose sight of him, following close upon his heels.
This worthy personage, being brought to the table and sworn, declared that his name was Samuel Nugent, and that he was by trade a general dealer. He said, also, that on a certain night which he named he was crossing over Frimley Common, when he accidentally kicked something with his foot, which on examination he discovered to be a pocket-book; that in it he found a number of papers, which he proceeded to describe, and all of which, as he stated, tended to show that Henry Hayley and Colonel Middleton were the same person.
"The book itself," said the man, "and a good many of the things in it, I threw away; but I kept these, because I thought they were curious, and then a friend of mine told me I might turn a penny by them."
"We usually say, turn an honest penny," said Mr. Hargrave, gravely. "The wordhonestyou have judiciously left out. Show me the papers."
The papers were accordingly handed up to him, and he and his brother magistrates examined them carefully.
"Here is, I find, a memorandum-book, in which there are some entries which may very well bear the construction attempted to be put upon them. I find the remarkable words, 'The assumed name of Colonel Middleton;' and here are two letters addressed to Henry Hayley, at Eton, and several other things referring to Colonel Middleton and to Henry Hayley, which, taken with other circumstances and the striking resemblance, throw considerable suspicion on the case. I am afraid, Colonel Middleton, I must call upon you for some clear and explicit explanation. What is your defence?"
"Remember, sir," said Sir Harry Henderson, "that you are not obliged to make any statement, and that whatever you say will be taken down, and may be used against you at an after period."
"I have no objection to such being the case," replied Henry, calmly, while Maria, terribly agitated at the serious turn which affairs seemed to be taking, closed her eyes and bent down her head upon her hands. "I will simply ask a few questions, and bring forward a few facts to show the character of the man who stands before you, and the nature of the transaction in which he and Mr. Scriven have been engaged. I do not know," he continued, fixing his eyes sternly on the merchant, "sufficient of the law of England to be sure that it will justify me in requiring that gentleman to be held to bail upon a charge of subornation of perjury; and the witness before you to be committed for perjury; but I think I will show you very soon that there is ground for such a charge against each."
Mr. Scriven turned very white, but whether it was from fear or anger it might be difficult to say. He certainly affected the appearance of the latter passion, and was beginning to exclaim furiously against the insolent daring of the accuser, when Henry exclaimed--
"Cease, cease, sir! You have been like the rattlesnake, and have given warning of your design before you sprang at me. I have not forgotten the night at Lady Fleetwood's. However, now I will proceed to make good what I say. Joshua Brown, come forward!" and as he spoke, the pedlar advanced to the table. "Do you know the last witness?" continued Henry.
"Yes, sir," replied the man.
"Well, then, explain to the magistrates who and what he is," was the rejoinder.
"Why, gentlemen, he's a well-known thief," said the pedlar. "He and three others attacked myself and this gentleman, Colonel Middleton, near a place called Knight's-hill, on the night of Friday, the 3rd; knocked us down, pillaged us of almost everything we had, and were only prevented from murdering us, I believe, by some other people coming up. Amongst other things, they took the colonel's pocket-book, and he employed me to get it for him. So, on inquiring at the house of Mr. Alston, a silversmith and jeweller, in the town of ----, I found that the most likely place to hear of it was at the shop of a receiver of stolen goods, named Mingy Bowes."
He then went on to describe all that had occurred on that occasion, and ended with the fact of the pocket-book having been thrown into the fire and consumed.
Mr. Scriven was somewhat alarmed; but he was too shrewd and clear-sighted to suffer any advantage to escape.
"Your worships will remark," he said, "that it is here admitted that my witness had in his possession a pocket-book actually belonging to the person calling himself Colonel Middleton; and that there were papers in that pocket-book of such consequence as to induce him to offer a hundred pounds to regain it. You will also remark that I know nothing of the witness except what he himself has told me. I cannot know how he became possessed of the pocket-book or of these papers; and as he has stated that he threw the book away, but retained these, without stating whether it was into the fire he threw it or not, it seems to me that the truth of his statement and the genuineness of these papers are rather confirmed than otherwise by the evidence just given."
"Oh, you can tell very well how he became possessed of the papers," replied the pedlar, looking him full in the face, "because, you know, you told him what he was to say here. Why, didn't you, in Lady Fleetwood's dining-room, the other morning, put him up to saying that he found the pocket-book as he was crossing the common?"
This was said in the most simple and natural manner in the world, but its effect upon Mr. Scriven was very terrible. His lips turned livid, and for a moment he remained speechless and motionless, holding the edge of the table as if for support.
"What is that? what is that?" exclaimed Colonel Mandrake. "He told him what he was to say here, did he?"
"Yes, your worship," replied Joshua Brown. "He told him in Lady Fleetwood's dining-room, on Wednesday morning last. They can't deny it, either of them."
Mr. Scriven was utterly confounded, and for the moment had not a word to reply; but Sam Nugent, who was as bold in lying as in other things, answered at once, with an oath--
"I do deny it. It's false!"
"How came you to know, or rather how can you know, what took place in Lady Fleetwood's dining-room?" demanded Mr. Scriven, taking courage from the man's bold tone.
"Because I was in the next room, sir, and heard every word of it," answered the pedlar, with the utmost composure.
"Pray, how happened you to be there, my good sir?" demanded Mr. Hargrave.
"I went on purpose, sir, with another witness," replied Joshua Brown, deliberately. "The way was this:--The man Mingy Bowes--that is, the 'fence,' as they would call him, or receiver of stolen goods--called twice upon the colonel there, to try and frighten him out of some money. He did not see him either time; but the last time he saw me, and a very unpleasant sight it was for him. I was sitting with the colonel's servant when he was shown in; and having got my hand upon his neck about the robbery, I soon brought him to reason, and made him tell me all about their plans. I found that he and this young gentleman were to go to Lady Fleetwood's on Wednesday morning last, and that they hoped to get a thousand pounds out of her on account of the papers they pretended to have. So I made my arrangements accordingly, knowing that my lady was to be out of town, and that they were to see Mr. Scriven, which I learned by accident; and so I told Mr. Carlini, the colonel's servant, not to say a word to his master, for fear he should not like it, but just to ask leave to stay one day behind him in London. It was granted readily enough; and as Mr. Carlini knew her ladyship's housekeeper and one of the other servants, we got admission----"
"And you went to listen to what I said, you scoundrels!" exclaimed Mr. Scriven.
"No, sir, begging your pardon," replied the pedlar, quite civilly: "I did not go to learn what you said, for I had no thought you would say anything like what you did say. I went to hear what this man said to you, that I might detect his trick and punish him as he deserved. However, I heard enough to surprise me very much; for I never fancied a gentleman would condescend to trade with a thief, and promise him five hundred pounds if he would swear away another man's life."
There was a dead silence in the room for a minute after these strong words, and then Mr. Hargrave looked round to the other magistrates, saying--
"This is becoming very serious, gentlemen."
"Very serious indeed," said Colonel Mandrake, slowly; and Sir Harry Henderson echoed his words, adding--
"Is the person who was with you on this occasion in the room?"
"No, sir," replied Joshua Brown; "but he is in the house, and can be called in a minute."
"Let us hear you out first," said Mr. Hargrave. "Be so good as to relate the whole conversation you overheard."
The pedlar did so, with wonderful accuracy; and Carlini, having been called in, gave exactly the same account.
At first Mr. Scriven was silent, confused, and overpowered; but he soon recovered himself. He was not a man either to believe or to admit that he had done a wrong thing, and by the time the tale was told he was prepared to face it.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, addressing the magistrates, "I do not well see what this has to do with the case. If I did suggest to the man a way of accounting for having the pocket-book in his possession, it does not at all prove that these papers are not genuine."
"It is proved, sir, that you suggested to him to take a false oath," replied Mr. Hargrave, very sternly; "it is proved that he did take a false oath; and the credibility both of the man's evidence and your own is very seriously affected by his character, his conduct, and your dealings with him. Call in a constable there! I shall give him into custody, and send him to London upon the charge of the robbery, if not of the perjury. With you, sir, I really do not know how to deal;" and he leaned his head upon his hand and thought gravely.
"It is not ten minutes ago, sir," said Mr. Scriven, sharply, "that you refused to entertain a charge against this person calling himself Colonel Middleton, because the act with which he was charged had been committed in another county."
"I did not refuse to entertain the charge," replied Mr. Hargrave: "I informed you of what was the usual course, and I believe the strictly legal one. Magistrates, however, must sometimes overstep mere technical difficulties; and in the case of this man, Samuel Nugent, I have no doubt at all, but will send him to London in custody, upon my own responsibility. In the same way, also, I have now determined to enter fully into your charge of forgery against Colonel Middleton, if the prosecutor and he are both desirous of our doing so; otherwise, I certainly shall take no steps whatever."
"I suppose, sir, I am the prosecutor in this case, technically speaking," said Mr. Stolterforth, stepping forward; "and as such, I shall be perfectly satisfied with your decision upon the whole case, whatever that decision may be. I was very unwilling, I must say, to open the matter again at all, and would have let it rest had not Mr. Scriven pressed me earnestly to proceed. It is so long ago that it might very well be dropped; and, moreover, I always entertained some doubts as to whether the party charged was the one really criminal. The evidence certainly was strong; but I had known the boy long, and it was hardly possible to believe him guilty. In regard to the question of identity, I certainly thought the proofs brought forward by Mr. Scriven very convincing; but my view has been altered since I came here, and now I entertain many doubts. Under these circumstances, I am the more anxious that the whole matter should be investigated at once, and I pledge myself to abide by the decision of the magistrates present."
"And whatever their decision may be," said Henry, "I shall be satisfied with it."
There was a momentary pause, as if no one knew well how to commence the somewhat irregular proceeding agreed upon; but at length Henry took another step forward to the table, and taking Mr. Stolterforth's hand, he said--
"My dear sir, you have done me justice, and from my heart I thank you for your good opinion. To simplify all your proceedings, however, I will at once admit that I am Henry Hayley."
"I beg your pardon, my dear sir," said Mr. Hargrave, laughing; "but you are under a mistake. You are not Henry Hayley. My brother magistrates and myself have just this moment agreed that you are not, and I can take upon myself to affirm, of my own positive knowledge, that we are right."
"Then why admit it?" asked Mr. Scriven, harshly, while Mr. Stolterforth and most of the party present looked perfectly bewildered.
"Nay, let me make the admission, my dear sir," said Henry, addressing Mr. Hargrave. "This painful scene has already continued too long, and I have only suffered it to do so in order to show the vehement animosity excited against me. I will, therefore, in order to curtail every unnecessary detail, admit, moreover, that I was charged with forgery upon a due and formal information upon oath, that a warrant was granted against me, and that I fled the country----"
"That is enough, I think!" exclaimed Mr. Scriven: "the matter ought now to be sent to a competent court."
"Stop, sir!" said Henry, sternly, "and be so good as to hear me out. I admit, I say, that I fled the country, but not to escape the arm of the law, for I had with me full proof of my innocence; and, as you have heard from the witness Joshua Brown, the man who burned the pocket-book, of which he had robbed me, acknowledged that there was in it a document purporting to have been written by the late Mr. Hayley, which clearly stated that the forgery was his, that I knew nothing of it, and that I had consented to abandon my country, and rest under the imputation of crime, in order to save a father from death."
"All very pretty," said Mr. Scriven; "but we have not the paper to examine. We cannot ascertain whether it was genuine. I myself believe it to have been a fabrication, and the evidence was overpowering against you. You fled at once to Northumberland, thence went to Wales, thence to London, thence to the Continent, changing everywhere the notes in which the forged bill had been paid."
"I wish, sir, you would not interrupt me," said Henry; "you have surely had sufficient license of the tongue to-day. Allow me, at least, to make my own statement connectedly. Mr. Hayley one day gave me a draft upon your house, of which he had been very lately a partner, apparently accepted by yourself, to discount at Messrs. Stolterforth's bank. At the same time he entered into an explanation of some of his affairs, which I already knew to be seriously deranged, telling me that he must absolutely have two thousand pounds more within a week, and that as soon as I had got the draft discounted I must go down with all speed to this very house, and borrow that sum for him of his friend Lord Mellent, then in attendance on his father at this house. Mr. Stolterforth kindly discounted the bill at once. I now believe the money to be obtained from Lord Mellent was destined by Mr. Hayley to take up the bill before the forgery was discovered; but I knew nothing of that, and set out that night for Belford. When I arrived here, I found that the Earl of Milford was dead, and that his son had set out to convey the body to the family vault near Caermarthen. As I had been told that the necessity of Mr. Hayley's case was urgent, I followed, changing, as Mr. Scriven says, several of the notes which Mr. Hayley had given me, at different places, to pay my expenses. I missed Lord Milford at Caermarthen, but passed him, while in the mail on my road to London, as he was being carried into an inn with concussion of the brain, his carriage having been overturned and nearly dashed to pieces. It is false, however, that I changed any notes whatsoever after I went to the Continent; for Mr. Hayley had himself provided for me foreign gold, so that I had no notes whatever to change."
"I recollect, I recollect," said Mr. Stolterforth; "I have a memorandum of it here. Several notes were traced to a money-changer, who said he had received them for napoleons from an elderly man, of whom he could give no particular description, and could not identify him."
"I went to London in the most open manner," continued Henry, "in the public mail-coach, with my name at large on my portmanteau, and proceeded from the post-office at once to Mr. Hayley's house. There I found him up and waiting for me, and for the first time learned the crime he had committed. Everything was already prepared for my instant departure; and he besought me, in an agony of distress and agitation, to save him from disgrace and death. Could a son refuse a father under such circumstances? I could not, and I fled."
"The statement seems exceedingly likely," said Mr. Stolterforth, "The only improbable part of the whole is, that Mr. Hayley should send his son, a boy of sixteen or seventeen, to borrow a sum of two thousand pounds from Lord Mellent, when it would have been much more natural and proper for him to go himself."
Lady Anne Mellent smiled, and Henry replied--
"There was a cause; but, even without any peculiar motive being assigned, the fact did not strike me at the time as the least extraordinary, for I had been all my life a peculiar favourite with Lord Mellent. He had been uniformly kind and generous towards me, and had more than once told me, if ever I should want advice or assistance of any kind, to apply to him without scruple. Mr. Hayley told me to make it my own request to the young lord, and I was prepared to do so, without much doubt of the result."
"I think the whole story most improbable, from the beginning to the end," said Mr. Scriven; "and I must say it should be thoroughly sifted in a court of justice, before we admit the truth of a tale, every word of which is wanting in confirmation."
"Confirmation it shall have to the fullest extent," said Lady Anne Mellent, coming forward to the table with a packet of papers in her hand. "Happily for myself and others, I can give that which you so bitterly demand, sir."
She was a good deal agitated, but it was evident that anger had some share in her emotion; for as she spoke, she fixed her bright, beautiful eyes steadily upon Mr. Scriven; her nostril expanded, and her lip quivered.
"In the first place," she continued, "it shall be confirmed that this gentleman came down here to seek Lord Mellent. Stand forth, Mr. Gunnel, and tell these gentlemen who you are, and what you know of this transaction."
"The good, stout person of Mr. Gunnel now made its way forward to Lady Anne's side; and he said--
"My name is Gunnel, and I am the landlord of the Bell Inn at Belford. I remember quite well a young gentleman of sixteen or seventeen, though he was very tall and manly for his age, coming down to my house by the mail, in the month of August, about ten years ago. That gentleman is very like him. I should say, certainly, 'tis the same man grown older. When he got out he asked how far it was to Milford Castle, and said he must go on directly, for he had to see Lord Mellent upon business. I told him it was sixteen miles, and that he couldn't go on that night, for that all our horses were out. He took dinner, and asked very often if the horses had come in. He seemed very anxious to see Lord Mellent; but, as it was a stiff journey and there had been a run upon the road, I did not like the horses to go before they had had a night's rest. He did not change any notes at my house, but paid me in gold; and I never heard any inquiries made about it till Lady Anne asked me the other night if I recollected the facts. When he went from my house he came straight over here in a chaise of mine; but I heard from the postboy afterwards, that finding the old lord was dead, and the young lord gone with the body into Wales, the gentleman had gone on in the chaise to Wooler, seeming very anxious to catch his lordship as soon as possible. That's all I know upon the subject."