"Pardon me, Sir (returned Ernest, in a tremulous voice, and with a look of humble sorrow) pardon your poor servant, if duty and affection——."
"My good old friend (exclaimed the other, instantly recollecting himself, and ashamed of his petulance) my faithful Ernest, pardon me; I know your attachment, and truly love you; but indeed I am altered, vexation and perplexity sour my disposition, I grow hateful to myself and to others." The old man, overcome by this condescension, could have humbled himself at his feet, but being pressed for time, and anxious to know if his "poor endeavours" could in any shape be useful, he earnestly besought Ferdinand to explain the cause of his melancholy.
He very readily acknowledged to him every feeling of his heart, and added, 'that he was come to a determination to quit the Castle, but was distracted on account of his wife and children."
"As you resolve not to speak to your brother about any partition of my late master's effects, or any settlement for your children, I beseech you, Sir, to suspend your resolution for a few days, and, perhaps, I may obtain some information that may be of consequence. Fear not, Sir (added he, seeing Ferdinand was going to speak) do not be apprehensive I mean to say any thing to the Count; I am not honoured with his notice sufficiently to authorise any freedom of speech on my part; but I have other designs, and the result you shall know in a day or two."
With a low bow the good man departed, leaving Ferdinand penetrated with gratitude for the affectionate concern this faithful follower of his broken fortunes had ever manifested towards him and his family.
CHAPTER III
When the over-charged heart vents itself in a friendly communication, it lightens the oppressive load, and admits a ray of hope to illumine the prospect of future hours. Ferdinand returned to the Castle with quicker steps, and a countenance less overcast than for many preceding days; in the garden he met his wife under the supporting arm of his brother; he joined them, and was composed enough to converse freely on several subjects. Among other things, the war with Prussia was mentioned, and he dropped a hint that he should like the service. Rhodophil applauded his spirit, and observed, 'that a young man, with his brother's address and vivacity, would be a great acquisition to the army."
"Vivacity! (repeated Claudina) alas! it is long since that any traces of pleasure or vivacity have been visible in my poor Ferdinand."
"Then (returned the Count) he must be the most insensible of men; with such a wife, and such lovely children, I think him uncommonly fortunate."—At that instant the nurse appeared with the infant; Claudina quitted them, and retired into the house with her child.
"I think, brother (said Rhodophil) you seemed to express yourself feelingly on the subject of the war; have you any wish to offer your services?"
"I have (replied Ferdinand, rejoiced at this opening) nor would I hesitate a moment but on account of my family."
"I hope my dear brother can have no doubts or fears concerning their happiness; I take upon me to ensure you every thing that affection or fortune can procure for their pleasure and comfort; and you may command whatever is necessary or proper for your appearance, with honour to yourself, and credit to your family. Surely we have no separate interests."
"I think not (replied Ferdinand) at least I know my heart participates in every enjoyment of yours, and if I feel any distress it is all my own."
"But why should you feel any (asked Rhodophil) when you have only to speak your wishes, and they will be gratified."
"Generous friend! (exclaimed the other) will you then endeavour to reconcile Claudina to my departure? Will you employ your interest to procure for me a commission and introduction to the Emperor?"
"I will do every thing you wish for (returned the Count) and this very day shall witness my affection for yourself and family."
This conversation restored Ferdinand to some degree of composure, and bid him look forward to a situation where he might at least be independent, and he still hoped his brother would make some fixed establishment for his family previous to his departure.—That evening the Count told him he had written to Vienna, "and as I entertain no doubts respecting the success of my applications, we will lose no time in procuring the necessary equipments for your campaign."
Ferdinand thanked his brother warmly at the moment; but after he had retired to rest, and began to reflect on every occurrence, there appeared, he thought, an indecent eagerness in Rhodophil to hasten his departure: At first he told me I should possess an equal share of my late father's fortune; the servants were told they had two masters, and equal power was to be lodged in my hands. 'Tis true I had no right to expect it, yet why make such liberal offers, when the tenor of his conduct, and the behaviour of the servants are contradictory, when every thing he does carries the air of a favour, and every attendance in the servants is ushered in with "my master ordered me to do this, or that?" yet, perhaps, I am capricious, my situation is delicate, and my mind, from a long habitude of discontent, may see things with a jaundiced eye, which in themselves bear a very different interpretation: Let me not be unjust in my surmises, for surely the Count has been ever warmly my friend, nor is it his fault that I am cut off from a participation of my father's fortune. How few half brothers would have acted like Rhodophil!—Ashamed of his first uneasy doubts, Ferdinand turned eagerly to the bright side of his brother's character, and did him more than justice from an apprehension that he had done him less.
The next morning, taking his accustomed walk, he met Ernest, anxious to ease the heart of his old friend, and do credit to his brother, he repeated the conversation on the preceding evening. Ernest heard him with attention, and made the following reply:—"You will, I am sure, Sir, do justice to my heart, and believe that I am neither prejudiced against my master, the Count, nor naturally suspicious. I speak from the best grounds, and it is with pain I destroy the opinion you entertain of his affection and honour; but I must develop the seeming generosity that captivates your mind. Count Rhodophil has learned the courtly art of professing much and meaning little, which gives consequence to himself, and sends the poor deluded expectant away to indulge visionary hopes, and be again deceived by smooth words that mean nothing.
"That well remembered day, which cut you off from all legal claims on your father's fortune, never shall I forget the consequential air, the parade with which the domestics were informed that they had two masters."—"Stop, Ernest (cried Ferdinand) do not sully the generosity of my brother, by imputing to him such despicable motives as pride and self-consequence; it ill becomes me to hear one of his family rob him of the merit due to so much frankness and brotherly love: I cannot suffer you to proceed in this strain."
"Were I base enough to be unjust, or speak from the prejudices of my own opinion, I should be deserving of your displeasure, Sir, but I entreat you to hear me without interruption, and then I will submit to your judgment."
"Well, well (returned he, rather a little displeased) you may go on."
"That day, Sir (proceeded Ernest) after you had received such proofs of his affection, and returned to your miserable abode with an intention to fetch your Lady, I withdrew to an apartment, which I gave orders to have fitted up for you. The good old house-keeper, Madam Lambert was with me:—You know, Sir, it adjoins to the old library, and was, I believe, the cause why the books have been since removed; but, however, not to be tedious (here Ferdinand smiled) there we were, when presently the Count entered the library with Peter; they were speaking as they shut the door; we heard your name mentioned, and I put my finger to my mouth; we were silent and listened. I see, Sir, you look displeased; it was a liberty and a meanness if I could not justify it to my own heart, but I had my reasons.
"Well, Sir, we heard Count Rhodophil say, 'the world has in general thought my father very cruel in his treatment of Ferdinand, his whole fortune being given to me, they would be apt to censure and suspect me of taking an advantage of his resentments; it is therefore to avoid any unpleasant reflections, to do away any prejudices that might be conc
eived against me, and to humble Ferdinand's spirit into a sense of obligation, added to another view I look forward to still more gratifying, that I have made him and his family an offer of my house, which perhaps he will presume from what I said just now, to think is to be his also; but I was before determined how to act: I shall, by degrees, change every servant but yourself; Ernest I shall be obliged to keep until all his accounts are made up, but no longer; then the succeeding domestics, ignorant of my present declaration, and taught to believe highly of my generosity in supporting a brother's family, will learn to estimate us properly, and treat him accordingly.'"
"This, Sir, was verbatim your brother's speech, which Peter applauded in very free words I thought for a servant, and we stole softly out of the room lest we should be discovered. You must have observed, Sir, the servants are all changed, on one pretence or other, and being done without consulting you, proves how little equality of power you have in the house. Madame Lambert went two days ago; my turn will soon come; in truth but for you I care not how soon; but I believe your intention of going into the army has greatly rejoiced him, as it procures your absence without any reflection being thrown on him. Peter has of late paid much court to me, but as I look upon him to be in the plot against you, I have taken very little notice of him. Two or three times he has remarked, 'how very melancholy Mr. Ferdinand looked!'—I thought something might be gathered from him of his master's intentions towards your family, so yesterday I threw myself in his way after I had left you; and your Lady passing into the garden, I observed how handsome she was, and what beautiful children Master and Miss were; adding, 'that it was a pity but some settlement was made for them, lest the Count should marry, and his Lady not happen to like his brother's family.'—'As to marriage (said he) I believe my master don't think of that, and I dare say he will always be kind to Madame Claudina, if she is civil to him, so it must be her own fault if she loses his favour. As to settlement, Mr. Ernest, master knows better than that, make folks independent, and you make them saucy and ungrateful, whilst they are obliged to you they will be humble, tho' I fancy my master would have no objection to put forth a little to send his brother in some place abroad, for to be sure it is a shame to see a young man idling at home, who has nothing of his own, and hanging upon a generous Gentleman, who is but a half-brother after all, and not obliged to maintain him.' I was so provoked at his impudence that I could have throttled the rascal; but I curbed my passion, and saying, 'Very true, Peter,' I turned short from him, and retired to my room. Now, Sir, putting all this together, what must you think of the Count?"
Ferdinand, who was walking rather before Ernest, and his head hanging on his breast, turned round suddenly, with a look that expressed a thousand contending passions, twice he opened his lips to speak, but the conflict in his mind precluded all powers of articulation, and he gladly availed himself of a seat which just then appeared in view, though only the root of a tree, to sit down, for his trembling limbs could no longer support him. Poor Ernest saw, with infinite concern, the effects of his intelligence; tears stood glistening in his aged eyes.—"My dear master (said he) resume your courage; let not the machinations of the wicked have power to wring your noble heart with sorrow, to shake your fortitude, which has already struggled through the bitterest troubles."
"Ernest (said Ferdinand, after a long pause) you have bereft me of my last and only hope; all the consolation I could look forward to in life must derive its source from my brother. My brother did I say? alas! if what you tell me is true, and surely you would not deceive me, I have no longer a brother. Count Rhodophil is my father's heir, and I am cast off for ever. O, what a blessing is ignorance! Yesterday I thought myself wretched, but it was a state of bliss to what I now feel; my head burns like fire. Oh! my old, and now my only friend, tell me where, where shall I fly to, now that all my visionary hopes of this morning are vanished into bubbles! My wife! my children! merciful Heaven! who will provide for them?"
"That Heaven you invoke (answered the steward;) fear not, Sir, Providence never deserts the virtuous man." "But what, what is now to become of my intended expedition to the army?"
"If I may be so bold as to offer my advice (replied Ernest) I would act as if I was still unacquainted with the Count's real character; I only wished, Sir, to put you on your guard against duplicity, and not to have you weighed down with an idea of obligations which proceed only from selfish considerations. Whatever advantages you receive from the Count, is your undoubted right, as children of the same father you have an equal claim to his property; nor could resentment be justifiable carried to such lengths, as to consign one child to misery, that the other might riot in luxury."
"Surely, Ernest (cried Ferdinand) my father had a right to make what distinctions he pleased."
"I cannot think so, Sir (returned the other) in sudden anger was that will made, and I am confident it was intended to be altered, unhappily it was delayed until too late. Think of the words 'Pardon and peace!' Believe me, Sir, my blessed master never died with hatred in his heart: Be not scrupulous therefore, but take, without hesitation, what the Count offers you, and boldly ask for some certain income for your Lady; he cannot, I think, refuse; if he does, he unmasks himself at once."
"What! (exclaimed Ferdinand) receive, nay, even ask favours from a man whom I suspect of the vilest duplicity; owe pecuniary obligations, the existence of my family to."
"Softly, Sir (said Ernest) it is a share of your father's property, as such receive it freely. I beseech you, Sir, to keep what I have told you in your mind; but do not let it influence your actions to the disadvantage of yourself and family."
The appearance of Rhodophil and Claudina at a distance interrupted their conversation. Ferdinand arose, and walked hastily into the forest, unable to meet them in the present perturbed state of his mind. He revolved every thing Ernest had told him; he recollected a thousand little inattentions he had received; the air of protection his brother often assumed, the change in the household, his readiness to lay hold of the little inclination he had shown for the army: In short, the more he reflected, the more he was convinced no real brotherly affection existed in the bosom of Rhodophil: "Yet, (exclaimed he) did he not show us a thousand acts of kindness, when sinking under the displeasure of my father? Did he not often relieve us from want, and labour incessantly to bring about a reconciliation? And is it possible that a sudden change of fortune, being possessed of all, should make such a revolution in his principles? If so, alas! how dangerous is prosperity? What a contractor of the heart is wealth!"
Distracted with the various conjectures that occupied his mind, he walked on regardless of time or distance, until faint and weary, he stopped, and looked round, that he might trace his way back; but he had bewildered himself among the trees, and observed no particular path, he therefore was at a loss how to regain the direct road; to complete his difficulties, the air grew dark, the clouds heavy, and in a short time it began to rain violently. Scarcely sensible of the torrents that poured upon him, Ferdinand sought to explore his way to the Castle, though he dreaded to encounter the looks of its master. It was some hours, however, before he saw the turrets rising above the trees, and when arrived at the garden, he was so exhausted with fatigue, so drenched with the rain, that it was with much difficulty he reached the saloon door before his senses fled, and he fell extended on the floor. Happily a servant was passing the room, and hearing a noise, opened the door, and beheld the lifeless body.
His exclamations soon brought every one to know the cause, and poor Claudina was nearly distracted with terror and anxiety.—He was soon restored to his senses, and immediately put into a warm bed, and through the attention of his wife and old Ernest (who was terrified to death at an accident, of which he thought himself in a great measure the cause) after some hours he grew better, and able to account for his indisposition, by mentioning the length of his walk through the rain. He endeavoured to assume a composure in his behaviour to his brother that surprised even Ernest, and hav
ing taken his resolution, he stifled his feelings, and conducted himself as usual. A violent cold and fever were the consequences of his ramble, and for several days he was quite an invalid, and in some danger; during this time Rhodophil behaved with the utmost tenderness, which made him doubt the communications of Ernest, and to suspect the justice of his own observations.
The first day that he left his bed, the Count came to him in a transport of joy:—"My dear Ferdinand, we are successful, I have this moment received an express, your commission is granted, and the Emperor wishes to see you without delay. I am happy, my dear brother, in being the messenger of such agreeable and wished-for intelligence."
The agitations of Ferdinand were inexpressible; he hesitated whether he should accept or refuse the commission procured for him. The Count seemed surprised: "You are silent, my dear brother, have your sentiments undergone any change that I am unacquainted with?"
"They have indeed, (answered Ferdinand, with a deep sigh;) the danger I was in a few days since has alarmed me for the future welfare of my family. I know well (added he, fixing his eyes steadily on Rhodophil, whose own fell under the penetrating glance) how much I may depend upon your brotherly kindness; but you may marry, little occurrences may arise at present unforeseen to interrupt the harmony that exists in your family, and the idea of a precarious and accidental provision, must ever give pain to a feeling heart."
"What is it you mean or expect?" asked the Count, in a quick tone.
"A small settlement on my wife, that I may depart with a certainty that, whether I live or die, she will not want the common necessaries of life; superfluities, such as she now enjoys, I neither expect or wish for."
"What then (cried Rhodophil) you will not trust to my honour, or affection for your family?"
"Be not offended (answered Ferdinand, calmly) and I will be explicit; for my own provision, my sword shall carve it out, and for my family I expect only a mediocrity of fortune. The grandeur and elegance that reigns here they are not entitled to, nor can they expect a continuance of; a more humble situation is most proper for them: If therefore you will settle a very moderate pension upon my wife and children, I will place them in some decent cottage suitable to their fortunes, and then I shall depart in peace."
The Complete Northanger Horrid Novel Collection (9 Books of Gothic Romance and Horror) Page 150
