But in spite of what he said, in spite of that strange look in his eyes, that Laugh which proclaimed a perturbed Soul, I could not bring myself to believe that his noble Heart was a Prey to aught but noble Desires, and that those awful and subtle Schemes of deadly Revenge which have subsequently threatened to ruin his own Life were even now seething in his Brain.
For the moment, I only remembered that when first he had requested me to accompany him on his evening Peregrinations, it had been with a view to visiting the Countess of Castlemaine, and I now reminded him of his Purpose, thinking that his desire had been to beg for my Lord Stour's pardon. I did so, still insisting upon her Ladyship's avowed Predilection for himself, and I noticed that while I spoke thus he smiled grimly to himself and presently said with slow Deliberation:
"Aye! Her Ladyship hath vowed that out of Gratitude for his public Eulogy of her Virtue and her Beauty, she would grant Mr. Thomas Betterton any Favour he might ask of her."
"Aye! and her Ladyship is not like to go back on her word," I assented eagerly.
"Therefore," he continued, not heeding me, "the Countess of Castlemaine, who in her turn can obtain any Favour she desires from His Majesty the King, will at my request obtain a full and gracious Pardon for the Earl of Stour."
"She will indeed!" I exclaimed, puzzled once more at this strange trait of Magnanimity—Weakness, I called it—on the part of a Man who had on two occasions been so monstrously outraged. "You are a hero, Sir," I added in an awed whisper, "to think of a pardon for your most deadly Enemy."
He turned and looked me full in the eyes. I could scarce bear his Glance, for there seemed to dwell within its glowing depths such a World of Misery, of Hatred and of thwarted Passion, that my Soul was filled with dread at the sight. And he said very slowly:
"You are wrong there, my Friend. I was not thinking of a pardon for mine Enemy, but of Revenge for a deadly Insult, which it seems cannot be wiped out in Blood."
5
I would have said something more after that, for in truth my Heart was full of Sympathy and of Love for my Friend and I longed to soothe and console him, as I felt I could do, humble and unsophisticated though I was. Thoughts of You, dear Mistress, were running riot in my Brain. I longed at this momentous hour, when the Fate of many Men whom I knew was trembling in the balance, to throw myself at Mr. Betterton's feet and to conjure him in the name of all his most noble Instincts to give up all thoughts of the proud Lady who had disdained him and spurned his Affections, and to turn once more to the early and pure Love of his Life—to You, dear Mistress, whose Devotion had been so severely tried and yet had not been found wanting, and whose influence had always been one of Gentleness and of Purity.