“You have alluded to past times, Sophia,” he said, in a voice of deep emotion, “and have contrasted my position with that of your son, but you well know they are widely different. Nay, do not interrupt me; — I know what you would say. Randulph has personal advantages which I never possessed, and which are sure to win him favour in the eyes of his sex. Besides, his nature does not resemble mine; his feelings are not so concentrated; nor do I believe he could love so deeply. The love I entertained for Arabella Clinton was not the growth of a day — a month — a year — but the love of years. I had seen her opening beauties expand — had acquainted myself with her mind — ascertained her disposition, her temper — knew all her feelings, and persuaded myself that she requited my love.”
“And she did requite it, brother,” replied Mrs. Crew. “She did love you.”
“In mercy, do not tell me so!” cried Abel, becoming as pale as death. “I would rather think she hated me — deceived me; — but loved me! — that belief is only wanting to make me thoroughly wretched!”
“Calm yourself, dear brother,” said Mrs. Crew. “I would not increase your unhappiness for the world; but I am persuaded that the examination of this subject, which, from unhappy circumstances, we have never hitherto been able to discuss, will in the end relieve you of much anxiety.”
“I will try to bear it in that hope,” said Abel; “but the barbed arrow is too firmly and too deeply planted to be removed. You will only lacerate me further in the attempt.”
“I will not be intimidated,” rejoined Mrs. Crew. “I shall begin by telling you that it is your own fault that Arabella Clinton was not your wife. You have alluded to the deep passion you entertained for her, and your doubts of her affection for you. I do not say that she loved you with equal passion, because you were not a person to inspire such ardour, neither was she one to feel it, for her nature was frigid. But she loved you well enough to have been your wife; and what is more, she thoroughly respected you; and therefore there can be no doubt that you might have been happy.”
“Go on!” groaned Abel.
“You will forgive me, if I speak plainly,” pursued Mrs. Crew, “for I must do so to shew you where you erred. Rating yourself too humbly, you pursued, as I conceive, a most unwise and dangerous plan in order to test the sincerity of your mistress’s attachment. Fearful she might accept you on the score of your wealth, you represented yourself as in very moderate circumstances; and while full of tenderness and affection, adopted not unfrequently a harsh and forbidding manner towards her.”
“True, true!” cried Abel.
“You were both the victims of error,” continued Mrs. Crew. “Deceived by your manner, she thought you had conceived a dislike for her, and strove to wean herself from all regard for you; while her efforts made you believe you were indifferent to her. All, however, might have come right, but for the fatal mistake of deluding her as to your circumstances. With her, wealth was of little importance, and she would have married you as readily poor as rich; but with her father it was otherwise.”
“Her father was aware of my circumstances,” said Abel, in a sombre tone.
“He was so,” replied Mrs. Crew, “but it was his business to conceal them; for Arabella had a richer suitor whom he preferred. Captivated by her beauty, Mr. Scarve proposed to her, and his suit was seconded by her father, who told her that you were needy, sour tempered, and indifferent to her. Doubly deceived, she hesitated. Instead of seeking an explanation, you avoided it, and retired to make way for your rival.”
“I did so, because I thought he was preferred,” said Abel.
“Several slight circumstances I know conspired to confirm you in your opinion,” said Mrs. Crew, “but they were all devised by Mr. Clinton. A false construction was put upon your absence, and Arabella was induced to give her hand to Mr. Scarve.”
“Why was I not told all this at the time?” cried Abel.
“Because I was not aware of it myself,” said Mrs. Crew. “You may remember that this occurred during the period of my engagement to my poor husband, who was an old and intimate friend of Mr. Scarve’s, and consequently, not unnaturally disliked by you. This produced a coolness between you. Besides, to be plain with you, I did not understand, nor estimate your character then as thoroughly as I do now. I thought you cold and repelling, and never gave you credit for the depth of feeling you have since exhibited. Neither had Mr. Scarve displayed himself in his true colors then. At that time he had a good personal appearance, kept a tolerable establishment, and I really thought Arabella was better off than if she married you. I was angry, too, that you had attempted to test her affections by misrepresenting your circumstances, and thought you rightly served in losing her. Hence arose the misunderstanding between us, which separated us to the present period.”
“But how do you know that Arabella’s sentiments towards me were what you describe?” asked Abel.
“I have it under her own hand,” replied Mrs. Crew. “She wrote to me a full explanation of all the circumstances connected with this part of her life, stating how sincerely she had loved you, and how much she lamented that a mistake had separated her from you. From her letters, and from other information afforded me by my husband, I have been enabled to understand the whole case. You have been the victims of misunderstanding. But console yourself. A thousandth part of the suffering you have undergone would atone for a more grievous error than you have committed. Console yourself, I say. You were beloved by Arabella Clinton, and to the last she retained the sincerest regard for you.”
“That is indeed a consolation to me,” said Abel, melting into tears. “I am not ashamed to indulge this weakness in your presence, sister,” he added, in a broken voice.
“These tears will do you good,” she replied, “and I pray you to indulge them freely. The past will not henceforth be so painful to contemplate. If I mistake not, your bitterest pang was the idea that you had never been loved.”
“It was!” gasped Abel.
“And that has now been removed,” replied Mrs. Crew. “Here are Arabella’s letters,” she added, giving him a small packet. “You will see from them how you have misunderstood her.”
Abel took them, glanced at the superscription with a shudder, and placed them in his breast.
“I will read them,” he said, “but not now.”
“Does Hilda Scarve resemble her mother?” asked Mrs. Crew, after a pause.
“She is like her, but handsomer,” replied Abel. “I have seen her upon two occasions lately, and she appears a very amiable girl.”
“Then what objection can there be to an union between her and Randulph?” asked Mrs. Crew.
“I have said I will not be pressed on that head, sister,” rejoined Abel, sternly, “I have an objection — a strong objection. What it is you shall know at another time.”
“Heaven grant that these two young people may not be equally the victims of a mistake with you and Arabella,” sighed Mrs. Crew.
At this moment Mr. Jukes entered the room. “Mr. Scarve’s servant, Jacob Post, has called to enquire after Mr. Randulph,” he said; “and understanding that you are here, madam, he craves permission to see you.”
“May he come in, brother?” said Mrs. Crew.
“Certainly,” was the reply. And Jacob was ushered into the room.
“I’m glad to hear Mr. Randulph is gettin’ on so well, ma’am,” he said with an uncouth reverence to Mrs. Crew. “Lord love’e! how like you are to him to be sure!”
“I hope your young mistress got over the fright she underwent at Vauxhall, Jacob,” said Mrs. Crew.
“Why, yes, pretty well, thanke’e, ma’am,” replied Jacob; “she looks rather palish, but whether from fright, or concern for Mr. Randulph, I’m sure I can’t say.”
“You were present, Jacob, when my son rescued her from the libertine, Villiers, — were you not?” asked Mrs. Crew.
“I was, ma’am,” replied Jacob; “and I never saw a more sperrited young gen’l’man i’ my lif
e. I should like to see him, and shake hands with him for the pinkin’ he has given that beau.”
“It cannot be at present, Jacob,” replied Mrs. Crew: “he is ordered to be kept perfectly quiet, and even I am not allowed to remain in his room.”
“There’s no danger, ma’am, I hope?” asked Jacob, with real concern.
“None whatever, if he’s not excited,” returned Mrs. Crew.
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Jacob, brightening up; “and Miss Hilda’ll be glad to hear it, too. She’d never ha’ got over it, if anythin’ had happened him on her account.”
“Is she then so much interested in him?” asked Mrs. Crew.
“Why, you see, ma’am,” said Jacob, rather puzzled, and gazing from his questioner to Abel, who eyed him very curiously, “it’s nat’ral she should be interested in a gen’l’man as has rendered her such important services as Mr. Randulph has done.”
“Quite natural,” replied Mrs. Crew: “but I wish to ask you a plain question, Jacob — Is, or is not, Miss Hilda kindly affected towards my son?”
“Then I’ll answer your question as plainly as it’s asked, ma’am,” replied Jacob— “She is.”
Mrs. Crew glanced at her brother, and Jacob took his cue from the glance.
“I hope they two may come together, ma’am,” he said; “I’m sure they’re cut out for each other.”
“I can’t help thinking so, from all I hear of Hilda,” said Mrs. Crew.
“It is idle to speculate upon what can never take place,” said Abel, sternly. “Go and get something to eat, Jacob, and tell your young lady that Mr. Randulph will be quite himself in a few days — that he is going on as well as possible — that there is no sort of danger.”
“In other words, that there’s no occasion to send to inquire after him again — eh, sir?” said Jacob.
“Exactly,” replied Abel. “Good day, Jacob — good day!”
“I don’t like him half so well as I did before,” thought Jacob, as he left the room, and marched off to the butler’s pantry to Mr. Jukes, who placed bread and cold meat, together with a jug of stout ale, before him.
“Here’s Mr. Randulph’s speedy recovery.”
“I pledge you in that,” said Mr. Jukes, filling himself a glass.
Soon after the porter’s departure, Abel quitted his sister with the intention of going forth on business. While she was pondering on what had passed between them, the door was opened by Mr. Jukes, who told her that a gentleman had called to see her, and the next moment he ushered in Cordwell Firebras.
* * *
CHAPTER III.
Detailing the Interview between Cordwell Firebras and Mrs. Crew.
Mrs. Crew, though a good deal surprised and startled, maintained her composure sufficiently well not to attract the notice of the butler, who having placed a chair for the visitor, quitted the room.
“I have called to inquire after your son, madam,” commenced Firebras. “I was present at the affair yesterday, and can confirm what you have no doubt heard from your brother, that he conducted himself admirably throughout it.”
“My son, I am happy in being able to state, is rapidly recovering,” replied Mrs. Crew; “and having satisfied you on this point, sir, I must entreat you to abridge your visit as much as possible. I would not, on any account, that my brother Abel should meet you here.”
“There is no fear of that, madam,” replied Firebras: “I watched him go forth before I ventured to make my call. But time is precious, and I will come to the object of my visit at once. I wrote to you to tell you how much captivated your son was with Mr. Scarve’s fair daughter Hilda. A slight act of imprudence on his part for some time alienated the young lady’s regard; but he set himself right with her at Ranelagh, and at Vauxhall made rapid progress in her affections. I was present when the result of the duel was communicated to her yesterday, and if I had entertained any previous doubt as to the extent of Randulph’s hold upon her heart, her conduct then would have removed it. She was taken fainting from the room.”
“Poor girl!” exclaimed Mrs. Crew— “I am sorry for her.”
“Why sorry?” rejoined Firebras; “Randulph will make her an excellent husband.”
“But they will never be united,” said Mrs. Crew, sighing deeply.
“It will be his own fault if they are not,” observed Firebras, drily.
“How so?” cried Mrs. Crew; “both his uncle and her father are against the match.”
“That I well know,” replied Firebras; “but both might be brought to assent to it.”
“You are trifling with me,” said the lady.
“I thought you had known me better, Mrs. Crew, than to suppose me capable of trifling on a serious subject,” rejoined Firebras, almost sternly. “I can make good my words. Of Mr. Scarve’s consent I am sure.”
“He must have altered his mind, then, completely,” said Mrs. Crew; “for I have been told that he intended her for his nephew, and forbade Randulph his house.”
“He will consent, if I require it,” said Firebras, significantly.
“You amaze me!” exclaimed Mrs. Crew; “but my brother has within these few minutes refused to give his consent, and Randulph cannot marry without it.”
“Why cannot he?” replied Firebras smiling. “It is not always necessary to ask an uncle’s consent in these cases. Still, as Randulph has considerable expectations from your brother, it would be better not to offend him. I do not despair of winning him over.”
“You will accomplish a miracle if you do so,” said Mrs. Crew.
“And I will accomplish it, and more, provided Randulph will join our party,” replied Firebras.
“He refused your former overtures, did he not?” asked Mrs. Crew.
“He did,” replied Firebras; “but I should have succeeded with him if it had not been for the interference of your brother Abel.”
“I am rejoiced to hear it.” cried Mrs. Crew.
“How!” exclaimed Firebras, “are you no longer faithful to our cause?”
“As faithful as ever,” replied Mrs. Crew; “but I would rather my son died than forfeited his honour — and he must forfeit it, if he joins us in any other way than on conviction.”
“Pshaw! it is not necessary to look at the matter so nicely,” replied Firebras, contemptuously. “We must make proselytes the best way we can. Randulph will be useful to us on the approaching outbreak, and I am therefore anxious to secure him. He is precisely the person I want to attend upon the prince — and have him I will.”
“You are very peremptory, sir,” said Mrs. Crew.
“You accused me of trifling with you just now, madam,” pursued Firebras, “but I will shew you I am in earnest. Your son’s whole destiny is in my hands; and it depends altogether on me whether his future course is brilliant, successful, and happy, or the reverse. Not only can I wed him to the object of his affections — not only can I procure him a handsome dower from her father — not only can I secure the consent of his uncle — but I can restore to him the estates which he has given up to his father’s creditors, and place him in the position he is entitled to occupy. All this I can, and will do.”
“Provided he joins you?” said Mrs. Crew.
“Of course,” replied Firebras— “of course.”
“Then, I fear he will remain in his present condition,” sighed Mrs. Crew.
“Let us look at the other side of the case,” pursued Firebras, sternly: “this is not a matter on which to be scrupulous, and I am determined to carry my point. If Randulph refuses to join me, he loses Hilda — loses her dower — loses his uncle’s fortune — and his own. Without me, Mr. Scarve will never give him his daughter; and without me he will never recover his property. Now, mark me, madam, for I know your son better than you do. He is a fine spirited young man, and endowed with excellent qualities; but he has essentially the habits and feelings of a gentleman, and your brother Trussell has taken care to inoculate him with his own tastes and propensities. He will
never be content with the quiet life he has hitherto led; but, tormented by his love for Hilda, and the sense of what he has lost, will be driven to some desperate course.”
“He may yet marry her, though without her father’s consent,” said Mrs. Crew.
“And marry to beggary,” rejoined Firebras, with a bitter laugh. “I do not wish to hold out threats — and what I say is said only to shew my power. He never shall marry Hilda Scarve, nor shall he ever enjoy his own again, unless he joins the Jacobite cause. I can prevent both, and I will prevent them. His decision must be made quickly, for he is wanted. Within a month from this time he must be mine, or all will be lost to him. As a prudent and affectionate mother — as a well-wisher to our cause — I look to you, madam, to use all your influence with him to produce this result.”
“I cannot — I cannot!” she rejoined.
“Then you destroy him,” said Firebras.
“Oh, put it not thus,” she rejoined: “you were an old friend of his father’s, and received much kindness, and, unless I mistake, pecuniary assistance from him. Do not act thus cruelly towards the son of your old friend!”
“Cruelly!” exclaimed Firebras, laughing derisively. “I offer him a fortune and the lady of his love, and you call it cruelty — ha! ha!”
“But at the price of his honour,” said Mrs. Crew.
“His honour! bah!” exclaimed Firebras, contemptuously. “What is to stain his honour in quitting the cause of a miserable usurper to join that of the rightful claimant of the throne? If you persist in such a notion, I shall begin to doubt the constancy of your own opinions.”
“I should be glad if Randulph would voluntarily embrace our cause,” said Mrs. Crew; “but I would disown him if he were base enough to be bought.”
“Well, I have placed both views of the case fairly before you,” said Firebras, rising— “weigh over what I have said, and decide.”
And as he turned to depart, he encountered Abel Beechcroft, who had entered the room unobserved.
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