CHAPTER XVIII.
We must now return for a moment to the morning of that day, whose sun we have just seen go down, and to Blanche Delaware, who sat in her solitary chamber, with the world feeling all a wide lonely desert around her. Not a month before, there had not been a happier girl upon the earth. She had been contented; she had possessed her own little round of amusements and occupations. She had music, and books, and flowers and nature, and two beings that she dearly loved, constantly beside her, and she had never dreamed of more. The buoyancy of health, and a happy disposition, had raised her mind above the low estate to which her family had been reduced; and a refined taste, with that noblest quality of the human mind, which may be called the power of admiration, had taught her, like the bee, to extract sweetness and enjoyment from every flower that Heaven scattered on her way. But since that time she had been taught another lesson--she had been taught to love! That passion had given a splendor to the world that it had never before possessed. It had painted the flowers with richer colors--it had spread a sunshine of its own over the face of nature--it had given new soul to the music that she loved. The dream had been broken--the adventitious splendor had passed away; but it left not the flowers, or the music, or the face of nature, as they were before. It took from them their own beauties, as well as that which it had lent them. All had withered, and died; and the world was a desert.
She had wept long, and bitterly; but she had dried her eyes, and bathed away the traces of her tears, when her father entered her room, and inquired tenderly after her health. "You do not look well, indeed, my dear Blanche," he said; "I wish you would send to Emberton for Mr. Tomkins."
Blanche assured him, however, that it was nothing but a headache--that she would be better soon--that she was better already--and that she was just thinking of coming down stairs. There was, indeed, a sort of trembling consciousness at her heart, which made her fear, at every word, that her father was going to touch upon the subject most painful to her heart; but she soon perceived that no suspicions had been awakened in his bosom; and she trusted that her brother would share in her father's blindness, especially as he had been absent so long in London. In this hope, and as far as possible to remove all cause for doubt, at least till she was able to bear an explanation, Blanche nerved her mind to restrain her feelings, and soon followed her father to the library. It was some time, as we have seen, before William Delaware returned, and Sir Sidney had walked out a little way toward Ryebury to meet him; but as he had been since at Emberton, he came, of course, by a different path, and arrived alone. His mind was in no slight degree irritated and impatient, from all that had passed; and poor Blanche had unfortunately so far fallen under his displeasure, from the facts which the servant had communicated to him, that he was prepared, as he mentally termed it, to give her a severe scolding; but when he entered the library, he found her looking so sad and woe-begone, that his heart melted; and, sitting down beside her on the sofa, where she had been reading, he took her hand kindly in his, and asked her after her health, with a look of fraternal affection. Blanche fancied that he too was deceived, and answered that her complaint was only a head ache, which would soon pass away.
"Are you sure, my sweet sister," asked Captain Delaware, "that it is not a heartache, which may be long ere it leave you, if you do not take the advice of some one who has a right to counsel you!"
The blood rushed burning into Miss Delaware's cheek, and she trembled violently; but her brother folded his arm round her waist, and still speaking gently and kindly, he went on: "Hear me, dearest Blanche--We have been brought up as brother and sister seldom are--shut out the greater part of our lives from the rest of the world--loving each other dearly from the cradle--I, seeing little of mankind, except within the sphere of my own vessel; and you, seeing nothing of mankind at all. I believe that I have been the only confidant you have had from childhood, and I do not intend, dearest, that you should withdraw that confidence from me, till I put this little hand into that of the only man who ought to be your confidant from that moment." The tears rolled rapidly over Blanche Delaware's cheeks. "Although it may seem strange," continued her brother, "that you should be expected to make a confidant of any man at all in love matters, yet, for want of a better, Blanche, you must tell me all about it; and, perhaps, I shall not make the worse depository of a secret, for being a sailor. We are all tender-hearted, Blanche," he added, with a smile; "at least when we are on shore. So now tell me--has Mr. Burrel offered you his hand?"
Blanche was silent, though her brother waited during more than one minute for a reply; but the blood again mounted into her cheek, and the tears dropped thicker than before. "Well, well," he continued, "if you can not answer by words, dear sister, I must try and make out your signals, though I have not, perhaps, the most correct code myself--Burrel has offered you his hand!" Blanche gently bent her head. It could scarcely be called an assent; but it was enough for her brother, and he went on. "Well, then, what was the difficulty! He loved you, and you loved him."
Blanche would have started up, but her brother's arm held her firmly; and, as her only resource, she hid her glowing face upon his shoulder, and sobbed aloud. "Nay, nay, deal girl!" he cried, "Where is the shame or the harm of loving a man who has long loved you! Do you think I have not seen your love, my dear sister! And do you think that I would suffer your heart to be won, unless I knew that the man who sought it, really loved you and was worthy of you! But tell me, Blanche, where is the difficulty--what is the obstacle! Some trifle it must be--I will not call it a caprice, for my sister is above that--but some idle delicacy--some over-retiring modesty, I am afraid."
"No, no, William, I can assure you!" replied Blanche Delaware, raising her head; "I could be above all that too--but it can not be."
"But, my dear Blanche," said Captain Delaware, more seriously than he had hitherto spoken--for he had endeavored to mingle a playfulness with his tenderness--"but, my dear Blanche, you must assign some reason--at least to me. Burrel will think that we have all trifled with him. I stood virtually pledged to him for your hand, on condition that he won your love. That he must have felt he has done, or that you have been sporting with him--and such an imputation must not lie on you, nor must he think that I have deceived him."
"Do you know who he really is?" demanded Blanche, suddenly.
"Yes, Blanche, as well as you do," replied her brother. "He is your cousin and mine, Henry Beauchamp, whom we have both played with on that carpet in our childhood."
"It is useless, William--it is all useless!" replied Blanche with a deep and painful sigh. "But there is my father's step in the hall--let me go, William, if you love me--and oh, do not, for Heaven's sake, increase his anxiety just now, by letting him know any thing of all this! Let me go, my dear brother, I beseech you!" and struggling free, she made her escape by the door opposite to that by which Sir Sidney Delaware was just about to enter the library.
Captain Delaware had a painful task before him, in the necessity of communicating to his father the result of the inquiries he had set out in the morning to make, although he could not find in his heart to tell him explicitly upon what doubtful chances his hope of receiving the money, ere the next morning, was founded. He confined his information, therefore, as much to general terms as possible; and informed Sir Sidney that Mr. Tims had not yet indeed received the money, which was to be furnished by a third party, but that he doubted not it would be paid that night, or early the next morning, before Lord Ashborough's lawyer could arrive.
These tidings stopped any further inquiries from Sir Sidney Delaware, though they did not satisfy or quiet his mind; and he concluded that his son had told him all he knew, although that all but served to render him anxious and impatient. He remained restless and disturbed through the whole of the day; raised a thousand aerial hypotheses in regard to Mr. Tims's delay--drew a general picture of all misers, lawyers, and usurers, which might have ornamented the scrap-book of Eblis--and more than once threatened to visit the worthy proprietor of Ryebury himself, from which feat he was with difficulty dissuaded by his son, who, in fact, was but little less anxious than himself.
Perhaps, indeed, Captain Delaware's anxiety was the more keen and corroding, because he forced himself to conceal it, and to appear perfectly confident and careless. Blanche, on her part, avoided all communication with her brother, except that, when they met at dinner and at tea, her eyes besought him to spare her. The moments waned; neither Mr. Tims nor Burrel, nor any messenger from either, appeared during the evening; and, as night began to fall, Captain Delaware's impatience gradually got the better of his self-command; and finding himself in the situation of a shell, the fuse of which was rapidly burning down to the powder, and which must consequently explode in a short time, he thought it better to carry himself away, and let his heat and disappointment wreak itself upon any other objects than his friends and relations.
As the most natural vent for such feelings, he took his way toward Ryebury; but when he returned, after about an hour's absence, he appeared to the eyes of his sister--who strove to read his looks with no small apprehension--more heated and irritable than before.
"Well, William, what does Mr. Tims say now?" demanded Sir Sidney Delaware, whose own anxiety had at once told him whither his son had turned his footsteps, although Captain Delaware had given no intimation of his purpose.
"I have not seen him, sir," was the reply. "The old dotard would not let me in. Afraid of _robbers_, I suppose. I rang till I was tired, and then came away. But it is no matter; the money will be forthcoming to-morrow, I have no doubt. The coach does not arrive till the afternoon; and Lord Ashborough's solicitor did not come by it to-night, for I inquired at the inn."
Things which, buoyed up on the life-preserver of a light heart, float like feathers over all the waves of adversity that inundate this briny world, sink the soul down to the bottom of despair the moment that the life preserver, dashed against some sharp rock, or beaten by some more violent surge, suffers the waters to flow in, and the fine elastic air to escape. Not many weeks before, Blanche Delaware would have wondered, in the happy contentedness of her own heart, at the anxiety and disappointment of her brother and her father, and would have looked upon the events which they seemed to regret so bitterly, but as a very small and easily borne misfortune. But in the present depression of her spirits, it overwhelmed her even more than it did them. Her own grief was so deep, that she could not well bear any more; and, soon after her brother's return, she retired to her chamber to weep.
The night went by, and Blanche and her father descended to the breakfast-table somewhat earlier than usual; for care makes light sleepers.
"Is William out?" demanded Sir Sidney Delaware, as he met his daughter. "I wished to have gone to Ryebury with him."
"I do not think he is down yet," she replied. "I have not seen him, and yet it is odd he should be the last up to-day."
"Send up and see, my love," said her father; which was accordingly done, and the result was, that Captain Delaware was found just dressing. Blanche thought it very strange that on such an occasion her brother should yield to a laziness he did not usually indulge; but Captain Delaware seemed in no hurry to come down, and the breakfast proceeded without him. Before it was concluded, however, and before he had made his appearance, the sound of wheels coming up the avenue was heard, and a hack post-chaise drove to the door. The whole proceedings of its occupants were visible from the breakfast-parlor; and, as Sir Sidney sat, he could perceive that the first person who got out was a stout, unpleasant-looking man, in whom, although greatly changed since last he saw him, he recognized Lord Ashborough's lawyer. The next that followed was evidently a clerk, and he carried in his hand one of those ominous-looking bags of green serge. Mr. Peter Tims, immediately after the descent of the clerk, turned back to the chaise door, and spoke a few words to some one who remained within, and then followed the servant up the steps of the terrace.
Blanche looked at her father. He was very pale. "I wish you would call William, my love," he said, with a faint effort to smile; "we may want his presence in dealing with these gentlemen."
Blanche hastened to obey, and, almost as she left the room, Mr. Peter Tims was announced. He entered with a low bow, but a face full of cool effrontery, which gave the lie to his profound salutation. He immediately informed Sir Sidney that he now had the pleasure of waiting upon him to settle the little business between him and his noble client, Lord Ashborough; and he ended by presenting the bill for twenty-five thousand pounds, which had now been due nearly two days.
Sir Sidney Delaware begged him to be seated, and then, in an embarrassed but gentlemanly manner, explained to him that the money which he had expected to receive, had not yet been paid; but that he trusted that it would be so in the course of the day.
The face of Mr. Peter Tims grew dark; not that he did not anticipate the very words he heard, but that he thought fit to suit his looks to his actions. "Ha! then," he cried, "my lord was right, sir!--my lord was right, when he said he was sure that the annuity would never be redeemed, and that the only object was to reduce the interest. But I can tell you, Sir Sidney, that such conduct will not do with us!" and he made a sign to his clerk, who instantly left the room. "We had heard something of this yesterday, and that made me come as far as ---- last night."
Sir Sidney Delaware's cheek grew red, and his lip quivered, but it was with anger. "What is the meaning of this insolence, sir?" he demanded, in a tone that changed Mr. Tims's manner at once from the voluble to the dogged. "You seem to me to forget yourself somewhat strangely."
"Oh, no, sir, no!" replied the lawyer. "All I have to say is--This, I think, is your bill--now more than due. Are you ready to take it up? If not, I must proceed as the law directs."
"And pray, sir, what does the law direct you to do?" demanded Sir Sidney Delaware, "when the payment of a sum of money is delayed for a few hours, by some accidental circumstance?"
"It is all very well talking, Sir Sidney," said the man of law; and was proceeding in the usual strain, when Captain Delaware entered the room, and passing behind his father, whispered something in the baronet's ear that made him start. Almost at the same moment, the lawyer's clerk returned, followed by one of those ill-looking fellows, who, as poor Colly Cibber declared, were "fitted by nature for doing ugly work," and consequently, engaged by the sheriffs for that purpose.
"Which is the gemman, Mr. Tims?" cried the bailiff; for such was the personage now introduced. "Is't the ould un, or the young un? for we must not be after mistaking."
"Stop a moment!" cried Captain Delaware. "Pray, who are these persons, sir?" he continued, addressing Mr. Tims.
"Merely my clerk, sir, my clerk," replied Mr. Tims, who did not particularly approve the flashing of Captain Delaware's eye. "Merely my clerk, and an officer of the sheriff's court, instructed to execute a writ upon the person of Sir Sidney Delaware, at the suit of my noble lord, the Earl of Ashborough. You know, Captain Delaware," he added, edging himself round the table to be out of reach of the young officer's arm--"you know you yourself assured me that the money would be ready before the time, and now two days have elapsed; so that it is clear, sir--it is clear, I say, that all this is nothing but trifling."
"Pray, Mr. Tims," said Captain Delaware, in a milder tone than the other expected, "answer me one question, as you are a shrewd and clever lawyer, and I want my mind set at rest."
"Certainly, sir, certainly!" replied Mr. Tims; "very happy to answer any legal question, provided always, nevertheless, that it does not affect the interests of my client."
"My question is merely this, sir," answered the young officer, whose mind--both from what Burrel's servant had let fall, and from his own observations--had come to the conclusion, that the Messieurs Tims, uncle and nephew, had combined to prevent the payment of the money. "My question is merely this--Suppose two or three men were to enter into an agreement for the purpose of delaying the payment of a sum of money, in order to arrest a person on a bill they had obtained from him, would they not be subject to indictment for conspiracy?"
The countenance of Mr. Tims fell; but the moment after, it kindled again with anger, and he replied, "I will answer that question in another time and place; and, in the mean time, officer, do your duty!"
"Stand back, sir!" said Captain Delaware, sternly, as the man advanced. "Mr. Tims, you shall answer that question in another time and place, and that fully. In the mean time, as you say, be so good as to present your bill. I shall only observe upon your conduct, that the fact of your having obtained this very writ, before you had ever presented the bill for payment, gives a strong presumption that you had taken means to prevent the money being ready, and concluded that those means had been successful."
Mr. Tims turned very pale; but he was not one of those unfortunate men whose impudence abandons them at the moment of need, and he almost instantly replied, "No, sir, so! It affords no presumption. The fact is, we never thought the money would be paid. We always knew that the whole business was an artifice--that you had no honest means of coming by the money--and, after having allowed one whole day, and a part of another to elapse, that there might be no excuse, we came prepared to make the artifice fall upon the heads of those that planned it. Officer, why do you not execute the writ?"
"Because the gemman demands you should present the bill!" replied the man.
"The bill matters nothing--the debt has been sworn to," answered Mr. Tims; "but that there may be no farther quibble--there--there, sir, is a bill signed by Sir Sidney Delaware for the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds, which came due the day before yesterday. Are you ready to pay it? Can you take it up? Are you prepared to discharge it?"
"We are, sir!" replied Captain Delaware; "and, when we have done so, I shall take the liberty of caning you for the words you have had the impudence to use, and the imputations you have been shameless enough to utter, till you shall have as good an action for battery against me, as I shall have an indictment for conspiracy against you."
"No, no, William!" said Sir Sidney Delaware. "There is not an instrument of castigation in the house, from the dog-whip to the stick with which the boy cudgels the jackass, that would not be disgraced by touching the back of that man or his instigator."
"First, sir, let us see the money," cried Mr. Tims; "and then let any man touch me if he dare. The money, sir! Where is the money, I say?"
"Here, sir!" replied Captain Delaware, drawing out a pocket-book. "Here is the money that you require; and, therefore, before proceeding to any thing else, we will terminate this business."
It would be difficult, in that confused gabble of a thousand depraved dialects, which the reviews call "good manly English," to express the horror and despair of Mr. Peter Tims, at finding that--notwithstanding all the arts and artifices he had used, and which were a thousandfold more in number than we have had space to put down--the money had been obtained; and, therefore, that the patronage and business of Lord Ashborough might be looked upon as lost to him forever.
Nothing, however, could be done; and he was obliged to sit down and transact the receipt of the money, and all the other formal business incident to the occasion, with a bitter heart and a gloomy countenance. The notes, indeed, which Captain Delaware handed to him, in discharge of his father's bill, he examined with scrupulous attention; and had he been able to detect even a suspicious look about any of them, would probably have made it a plea to delay the acceptance of the payment; but all was fair and clear; and in half an hour the bill was paid, and Sir Sidney Delaware's estate was delivered from the burden which had kept his family in poverty for so many years. Mr. Tims, indeed, took care to conduct himself with a degree of irritating insolence, intended, beyond doubt, to tempt the young officer to strike him as he had threatened, which would probably have been the case, had not Sir Sidney Delaware pointed out to his son, in a calm bitter tone, the real object of the lawyer, observing aloud, that pettifogging attorneys often made considerable sums by carrying actions of assault into a peculiar court, where the costs to the offender were very severe.
This turned the scale; and, when the whole was concluded, the lawyer was suffered to depart, loaded with nothing but disappointment and contempt.