‘’Tis a lady’s secret,’ said Lord Montfort. ‘But let us return to our argument. To be brief: either, my dear Armine, you must be convinced by my reasoning, or I must remain here a prisoner like yourself; for, to tell you the truth, there is a fair lady before whom I cannot present myself except in your company.’
Ferdinand changed countenance. There wanted but this to confirm his resolution, which had scarcely wavered. To owe his release to Henrietta’s influence with Lord Montfort was too degrading.
‘My lord,’ he said, ‘you have touched upon a string that I had hoped might have been spared me. This conversation must, indeed, cease. My mouth is sealed from giving you the reasons, which nevertheless render it imperative on me to decline your generous offer.’
‘Well, then,’ said Lord Montfort, ‘I must see if another can be more successful,’ and he held forth a note to the astounded Ferdinand, in Henrietta’s writing. It dropped from Ferdinand’s hand as he took it. Lord Montfort picked it up, gave it him again, and walked to the other end of the room. It was with extreme difficulty that Ferdinand prevailed on himself to break the seal. The note was short; the hand that traced the letters must have trembled. Thus it ran:—
‘Dearest Ferdinand,—Do everything that Digby wishes. He is our best friend. Digby is going to marry Katherine; are you happy? Henrietta.’
Lord Montfort looked round; Ferdinand Armine was lying senseless on the sofa.
Our friend was not of a swooning mood, but we think the circumstances may excuse the weakness.
As for Lord Montfort, he rang the bell for the little waiter, who, the moment he saw what had occurred, hurried away and rushed up stairs again with cold water, a bottle of brandy, and a blazing sheet of brown paper, which he declared was an infallible specific. By some means or other Ferdinand was in time recovered, and the little waiter was fairly expelled.
‘My dear friend,’ said Ferdinand, in a faint voice; ‘I am the happiest man that ever lived; I hope you will be, I am sure you will be; Katherine is an angel. But I cannot speak. It is so strange.’
‘My dear fellow, you really must take a glass of brandy,’ said Lord Montfort. ‘It is strange, certainly. But we are all happy.’