“It is a visitor's card, my Lord,” said Sewell, handing it to the old man as he spoke.
“There is some writing on it. Do me the favor to read it.”
Sewell took the card and read, “See Sir B. for me.—Wilmington. Sir Brook Fossbrooke.” The last words Sewell spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, for a deadly sickness came over him, and he swayed to and fro like one about to faint.
“What! does he return to the charge?” cried the old man, fiercely. “The Viceroy was a diplomatist once. Might it not have taught him that, after a failure, it would be as well to employ another envoy?”
“You have seen this gentleman already, then?” asked Sewell, in a low faint tone.
“Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half together,—an hour and half that neither of us will easily forget.”
“I conjecture, then, that he made no very favorable impression upon you, my Lord?”
“Sir, you go too fast. I have said nothing to warrant your surmise; nor am I one to be catechised as to the opinions I form of other men. It is enough on the present occasion if I say I do not desire to receive Sir Brook Fossbrooke, accredited though he be from so high a quarter. Will you do me the very great favor”—and now his voice became almost insinuating in its tone—“will you so deeply oblige me ate to see him for me? Say that I am prevented by the state of my health; that the rigorous injunctions of my doctor to avoid all causes of excitement—lay stress on excitement—deprive me of the honor of receiving him in person; but that you—mention our relationship—have been deputed by me to hear, and if necessary to convey to me, any communication he may have to make. You will take care to impress upon him that if the subject-matter of his visit be the same as that so lately discussed between ourselves, you will avail yourself of the discretion confided to you not to report it to me. That my nerves have not sufficiently recovered from the strain of that excitement to return to a topic no less full of irritating features than utterly hopeless of all accommodation. Mind, sir, that you employ the word as I give it,—'accommodation.' It is a Gallicism, but all the better, where one desires to be imperative, and yet vague. You have your instructions, sir.”
“Yes, I think I understand what you desire me to do. My only difficulty is to know whether the matters Sir Brook Fossbrooke may bring forward be the same as those you discussed together. If I had any clew to these topics, I should at once be in a position to say, These are themes I must decline to present to the Chief Baron.”
“You have no need to know them, sir,” said the old man, haughtily. “You are in the position of an attesting witness; you have no dealing with the body of the document. Ask Sir Brook the question as I have put it, and reply as I have dictated.”