"Impossible, impossible!' cried the noble but prejudiced youth: 'Rosolia could not have condescended to favour, even with her friendship, so mean a wretch as one who would have received money or jewels at her hands. This story, my Lord, hangs ill together, and for it I have only your word—the word of one to whom it is of the utmost importance that I should believe it. But think, O think, what a chain of circumstances appear in proof against you!—The threats I heard you utter, that your own hand should that very evening revenge your injuries! My meeting you, heated and confused, after two hours absence, no one knew whither, with one pistol in your hand—the fellow pistol found discharged by the dear murdered Rosolia—and, more than all, your ring, which Bayfield, impressed no doubt by similar suspicions, strove to conceal! Place all these in array against you, and tell me, tell me yourself, what I must, what I ought to believe.'
"'It is enough,' I replied: 'I yield myself then to your will. Take me, if such is your desire, to a prison, to death: your evidence I well perceive will be sufficient to convict me—to rob me of my honour and my life. But do you reckon for nothing your former knowledge of my character and disposition? Am I a man likely to have committed such a deed?—to have invented such a tale to excuse it, if I had? I swear to you, Edmund, by all that is most sacred, I am innocent—I will swear it to the latest moment of my existence.'
"Moved by these words, by the remembrance of all my former friendship for him—permit me to say, by the remembrance of years which I had so spent as to impress him with a firm opinion of my virtue and veracity, the generous youth paused awhile, and at length said—
"Well then, my Lord, since in this contrariety of assertion and evidence it is impossible that I should know what to believe, I will for the present, at least, act as if I thought you innocent. Seek this De Sylva—seek him if you will throughout the world. I will breathe no word, hint no suspicion, that may impede you in the search. Should you be able to bring his confession in evidence of your integrity, I will then entreat your pardon for my disbelief. If, on the contrary, any new appearances of guilt arise against you—should any new discoveries inimical to your innocence be made, I shall still know how to reach you.
"Here let us part! As soon as my weak state will permit, I leave this fatal, this detested roof, and will join my grandfather at Madrid: from his letters I learn what you have led him to believe on this shocking subject. If, indeed, your tale be true, I ought most thankfully to acknowledge the lenient tenderness with which you have treated my poor sister's reputation.—But oh! could she, could she be so guilty?——At all events, it is well the Duke should credit your statement. At his age, the doubts which shake me thus would kill him!—Let us meet no more at present—Should De Sylva be found, write to me: write in English, and the people about me will not understand your letter. All farther search into this matter I must postpone till the commencement of my majority shall leave me my own master; then I must once more visit England, such is my father's will, to take possession of my estates in that country, and to receive the accounts from you. Then, my Lord, we will finally consider all the proofs which shall then have been obtained of your innocence or guilt; and I shall then either bewail the faults of Rosolia, or revenge her death, either by my sword or the hand of the law, as I may think most proper. I shall then be a man, and more able, both by improved judgment and bodily strength, to assert my own convictions. Most earnestly do I wish, long ere that period arrives, your character may be cleared: yet, ah! how can I wish it, if by that acquittal my poor Rosolia must be proved so guilty!'
"In a few days after this conversation, Edmund, under the care of a person in whom I could confide, set out for Madrid; and I soon after discharging all my servants, except Mrs. Bayfield and my valet, whom I sent to England, left also this fatal spot. I hired a mule, and alone passed through the Sierra into La Mancha; and at Civedad I engaged a servant, not choosing to take one with me who had known any thing of the late painful transactions. On mules we proceeded, making every inquiry for De Sylva. Not even my servant knew my real name and rank; as I thought by concealing these I might have a better chance of finding the villain I sought: but still my search was vain. From Toledo, where I rested a short time, I wrote to some of the officers of De Sylva's regiment at Seville, to know if he had returned thither, though it appeared most improbable he should have done so: but I was desirous of trying every chance by which he might be discovered. In answer, I learnt De Sylva had obtained leave of absence about two months before; but though it had been some time expired, he was not yet returned: so that the charge of desertion was now added to those others, which I doubted not induced him to keep himself concealed. I travelled through Spain, avoiding Madrid, where I knew my friend and correspondent, the Marquis of Northington, who was resident there in a diplomatic capacity, would make every search for De Sylva; and passing the Pyrenees, entered the frontier of France, though with great risk and hazard, had I been known to be English; but I passed everywhere for a Spaniard, speaking the language as a native, having from my childhood been accustomed to speak it with Rosolia and Edmund; and I fancied in those wild mountains I might meet with De Sylva, who was likely to assort with the desperate characters with which they at that time abounded. But vain was my search, and at length I returned to England; and thinking that in London, perhaps, I might find this wretch connected with gamesters, I sought him at every house where such persons are likely to be found; but still, still the search was fruitless.
"I then came hither for awhile, to rest my wearied spirits. Here, vanquished by the constant harassings I had so long undergone, I fell into a severe fit of illness, through which my good Bayfield nursed me with the tenderest care; and as she alone knew all the griefs which oppressed me, I could without restraint give vent to my sorrows in her presence.
"Immediately after my recovery I had a letter from my friend Lord Northington, who had at my request, by himself and his agents, made every possible inquiry for De Sylva. He informed me that a person of suspicious character had lately been arrested, and stood charged with various crimes; and amongst the rest, of desertion; that from my description of him, he fancied this man to be De Sylva. I instantly wrote to Edmund, that I hoped the object of my long search was found; that I should go to Spain immediately, and would see him as soon as any thing was ascertained: but alas! after all my trouble and fatigue this man proved to be totally unlike De Sylva, and in no way connected with him.
"Mortified and disappointed, I yet went to Seville, where Edmund then was. The Duke de Castel Nuovo had been dead a few months, and his grandson, under the care of Mr. O'Brien, and some other ecclesiastics, appointed by the Duke's will to be the guardians of his person and his Spanish estates during his minority. It was not without difficulty that I obtained a private conference with him; for these Catholics were jealous of my supposed influence over his mind.
"I found him greatly altered in person, and evidently a prey to gloomy and anxious thoughts, which the life he led amongst persons of severe and superstitious habits did not tend to dissipate. His prejudices I still found unconquerable, and that he was determined on coming to England, should I be unable clearly to substantiate my innocence, either to avenge his sister's death by the sword, or to impeach me as her murderer—a dreadful alternative, and one from which I knew not how to free myself: for to find De Sylva seemed impossible, and if found, I knew not how to bring him to confession; and even of his having been at my villa, near the Sierra Morena, I had no witness but Mrs. Bayfield, whose evidence in my favour might, and most probably would, be deemed partial.