“Ferdinand Spicer, “Captain in the Bilboa Fencibles.”
“Spicer!” I exclaimed, as he concluded; “I knew a Captain Spicer once, who was a person likely enough to lend himself to a scheme of this vile nature. Well, Peter, the information is most important, however questionable the means by which it has been acquired. The matter must be looked to; but first, I want to learn a few particulars about Miss Saville's relations on the mother's side.” I then proceeded with a string of questions furnished me by Mr. Frampton, by the answers to which I ascertained, beyond a doubt, that Clara was indeed his niece, the orphan child of his favourite sister. Having established this point to my own satisfaction, and the unbounded delight of Peter Barnett, who at length began to entertain a not unreasonable hope that his pet daydream of kicking Mr. Vernor out of Barstone Priory might, at some time or other be realised, I said, “Now, Peter, I must somehow contrive to see your young mistress, and try to obtain her forgiveness; but as I cannot say I managed the matter over-well the other day, I will put myself into your hands, to be guided by you entirely”.
“Ah! I thought what was a-coming; well, that is speaking sensible-like for once; but do you think you could write anything as would persuade her to meet you? She's precious angry, I'm afraid, with us both, and small blame to her either; for hit ain't over-pleasant to be suspected when one's innocent, and she has a high spirit, bless her!—she wouldn't be her father's own daughter if she hadn't.”
“I can write a few lines to her, and try,” replied I mournfully, for the old man's words sounded like a death knell to my hopes.
“Come, don't be out of spirits, and down-casted-like, sir,” urged Peter; “suppose she did make up her mind she'd give you the cold shoulder, she'd be sure to change it again to-morrow, women is such wersytile creeturs; besides, she couldn't do it if she wanted to; it would break her heart, I know. I wonder where she'd find such another sweetheart?” continued he, sotto voce, as he turned to get the writing materials; “good-looking, high-spirited, uncommon pleasant to talk to, six foot one if he's an inch, and as upright as if I'd had the drilling of him myself.”
With an eager, yet trembling hand (for I was in such a state of agitation that I could scarcely write), I snatched a pen, and hastily scrawled the following words:—
“Clara, will you—can you forgive me? It is of the utmost importance that I should see you and speak to you without delay, if but for five minutes; strange and unexpected things have come to light, and it is necessary for your happiness, nay, even for your very safety, that you should be made acquainted with them. Clara, dearest Clara, grant me this boon, if not for my sake, for your own; if you knew the misery, the agony of mind I have endured for the last two days, I think you would pity, would pardon me.
“F. F.”
“There,” said I, as I hastily sealed it, “I have done all I can, and if she will not see me, I shall be ready to go and blow Wilford's brains out first, and my own afterwards. So, my good Peter, be off at once, for every moment seems an hour till I learn her decision.”
“Wait a bit, sir,—wait a bit; you haven't heard my plan yet. You can't set your foot in the park, for there's the keeper and two assistants on the look out; and if you could, you dare not show your nose in the house, for there's Muster Richard with his lovely black hyes a-setting in the liberary, and he's got ears like an 'are, besides two or three of the servants as would tell him in a minute. No, this is the way I means to manage—Miss Clara generally rides a-horseback every day, and I rides behind her; and before I came out, I ordered the horses as usual. So, if she's willing to come, we'll go out at the back gate by the great oak, a quarter of a mile farther down this lane, and when we've got out of sight of the park paling, you've nothing to do but set spurs to your horse, and join us;—therefore, if you hears nothing to the contrairy, when I've been gone half an hour, you mount your nag, ride quietly up the lane, and keep your hyes open."