“I don’t half like this,” muttered the parson; “I shall give Dr. Riccabocca a caution.” So muttering, he pushed open the side door, and finding a servant, begged admittance to Lord L’Estrange.
Harley at that moment was closeted with Levy, and his countenance was composed and fearfully stern. “So, so, by this time to-morrow,” said he, “Mr. Egerton will be tricked out of his election by Mr. Randal Leslie! good! By this time to-morrow his ambition will be blasted by the treachery of his friends! good! By this time to-morrow the bailiffs will seize his person,—ruined, beggared, pauper, and captive,—all because he has trusted and been deceived! good! And if he blame you, prudent Baron Levy, if he accuse smooth Mr. Randal Leslie, forget not to say, ‘We were both but the blind agents of your friend Harley L’Estrange. Ask him why you are so miserable a dupe.’”
“And might I now ask your Lordship for one word of explanation?”
“No, sir!—it is enough that I have spared you. But you were never my friend; I have no revenge against a man whose hand I never even touched.”
The baron scowled, but there was a power about his tyrant that cowed him into actual terror. He resumed, after a pause, “And though Mr. Leslie is to be member for Lansmere,—thanks to you,—you still desire that I should—”
“Do exactly as I have said. My plans now never vary a hair’s breadth.”
The groom of the chambers entered.
“My Lord, the Reverend Mr. Dale wishes to know if you can receive him.”
“Mr. Dale! he should have come to-morrow. Say that I did not expect him to-day; that I am unfortunately engaged till dinner, which will be earlier than usual. Show him into his room; he will have but little time to change his dress. By the way, Mr. Egerton dines in his own apartment.”