Farther, he more solemnly declared that on that fatal evening when he secretly admitted the captain to the house, and guided him to the boudoir of the countess, he had not the remotest suspicion of the nefarious purpose of the suitor. He thought Dugald merely wished for an opportunity for pressing his suit. He had no idea that the unscrupulous villain designed to conceal himself in the closet of the dressing room, and so pass the night in Lady Hurstmonceux's apartments, and show himself in the morning in dishabille at her open window, for the benefit of all the passengers through the street.
He affirmed that when in the morning he heard of this infamous abuse of confidence on the part of his patron, he had not had courage to meet his kinswoman at breakfast, but had decamped from the house in great haste, and had never seen the countess since that eventful day.
He said that he had heard how much she had suffered from the affair, at least for a short time; and that afterwards he had heard she had left the country; that he had since supposed the whole circumstance had been forgotten, and he did not even now understand how his disclosures should serve her, since no one now remembered the escapade of Captain Dugald.
As Isaacs spoke, Ishmael took down the statement in writing. When it was finished he turned to the Jew and said:
"You are mistaken in one thing—nay, indeed, in two things, Isaacs! The first is, in the supposition that your disclosures cannot now serve the countess, since the world has long ago done her full justice. It is true that the world has done her full justice, for there is no lady living more highly esteemed than is the Countess of Hurstmonceux. So if the world were only in question, Isaacs, I need never have troubled you to speak. But there is an individual in question; and this brings me to your second mistake in the matter; namely, in the supposition that the countess never married again. She did marry again; hut, a few months subsequent to her marriage, her husband heard the story of Captain Dugald's adventure, as it was then circulated and believed; and he thought himself the dupe of a cunning adventuress, and estranged himself from his wife from that day until this."
"Fader Abraham!" exclaimed the Jew, raising both his hands in consternation.
"Providence has lately put me in possession of all the facts in this case, and has enabled me to pave the way for a reconciliation between the long-severed pair—supposing that you will have the moral courage to do your kinswoman justice."
"Fader Abraham, I vill do her shustice! I vill do her more as shustice. I vill tell te whole truth. I vill tell more as te whole truth, and shwear to it. I vill do anyding. I vould do anyding alt te time, if I had known it," said the Jew earnestly.
"Thank you, Isaacs, I only want the simple truth; more than that would do us harm instead of good. This is the simple truth, I hope, that I have taken down from your lips?"
"Yesh, tat ish te zimple truth!"