“A man who,” persisted Randal, though he trembled visibly, “by his own confession, was himself guilty of all the schemes in which he would represent me as his accomplice, and who now, not clearing himself, would yet convict another—”
“Cher petit monsieur!” said the count, with his grand air of disdain, “when men like me make use of men like you, we reward them for a service if rendered, or discard them if the service be not done; and if I condescend to confess and apologize for any act I have committed, surely Mr. Randal Leslie might do the same without disparagement to his dignity. But I should never, sir, have taken the trouble to appear against you, had you not, as I learn, pretended to the hand of the lady whom I had hoped, with less presumption, to call my bride; and in this, how can I tell that you have not tricked and betrayed me? Is there anything in our past acquaintance that warrants me to believe that, instead of serving me, you sought but to serve yourself? Be that as it may, I had but one mode of repairing to the head of my house the wrongs I have done him, and that was by saving his daughter from a derogatory alliance with an impostor who had abetted my schemes for hire, and who now would filch for himself their fruit.”
“Duke!” exclaimed Randal.
The duke turned his back. Randal extended his hands to the squire. “Mr. Hazeldean—what? you, too, condemn me, and unheard?”
“Unheard!—zounds, no! If you have anything to say, speak truth, and shame the devil.”
“I abet Frank’s marriage! I sanction the post-obit! Oh!” cried Randal, clinging to a straw, “if Frank himself were but here!”
Harley’s compassion vanished before this sustained hypocrisy.
“You wish for the presence of Frank Hazeldean? It is just.” Harley opened the door of the inner room, and Frank appeared at the entrance.
“My son! my son!” cried the squire, rushing forward, and clasping Frank to his broad, fatherly breast.
This affecting incident gave a sudden change to the feelings of the audience, and for a moment Randal himself was forgotten. The young man seized that moment. Reprieved, as it were, from the glare of contemptuous, accusing eyes, slowly he crept to the door, slowly and noiselessly, as the viper, when it is wounded, drops its crest and glides writhing through the grass. Levy followed him to the threshold, and whispered in his ear,