“You’ll know who when I claim the tin.”
“P.S.—If you make a heavy purse out of the business, I shall expect ten per cent, on all beyond £500.”
Having sealed this precious missive, and put a penny stamp of Lord Alfred’s upon it, he consigned it to his pocket, took an affectionate farewell of his victim, and departed.
When Harry Coverdale reached London that evening, Horace D’Almayne was “off the Nore,” and feeling none the better for sea-air, wished most heartily that he was “off” the ocean also. In order to make up for his want of sleep on the previous night, Lord Alfred Courtland desired his valet not to let him be disturbed until he rang his bell, the result of which order was, that at one p.m. on the following morning his Lordship was eating his breakfast in that state of dreamy imbecility usually induced by an over-dose of “nature’s sweet restorer.” From this mental torpor he was in some degree aroused by a quick, sharp, and decided knock at the door, followed by a heavy but active footstep on the stairs, and ere he had time properly to regain his sleep-scattered senses, the valet announced Mr. Coverdale.
“You’re just about the last person I expected to see in town?” exclaimed Lord Alfred, languidly rising and holding out two fingers—a mild civility of which Harry did not avail himself. “I thought you were revelling in all the sweets of rural felicity, and that nothing would have tempted you to leave them. I’m uncommonly glad to see you though,” he continued, as it suddenly occurred to him that Coverdale would be a very good substitute for Horace D’Almayne, to advise and see him through this alarming steeple-chase, in regard to which two fixed ideas constantly haunted him, viz.: that he had risked a sum of money upon it much larger than he had any right to have done; and that he was as entirely ignorant of the whole affair, and as completely in Tirrett’s hands, as a baby could have been under the circumstances. “I’ll tell you why,” he continued; “the truth is, I’ve got in for an affair, the magnitude of which I by no means bargained for; in fact, I should not be surprised or offended if (as I know you’re both a kind friend and a plain-spoken fellow) you were to tell me I’d made a considerable ass of myself.”
“One moment, Courtland,” interrupted Coverdale; “I have come to town expressly to see you, in regard to a matter which nearly concerns me; and until we have discussed that, I really cannot give my attention to anything else. Now listen to me, Alfred,” he continued gravely, but not angrily: “I’ve been acquainted with you since you were a child, and I know your good points as well as your weak ones. I know, although you’re easily led away by bad precept and worse example, that you’ve a kind heart and a generous nature; and so, for the sake of this old regard, I have allowed you to—to amuse yourself and occupy your idle time by devoting yourself to my wife; and I am now about to talk to you, and reason with you on the subject, in a far milder tone than I should use to any other man under the circumstances.” Lord Alfred was about eagerly to interrupt him, but by a gesture Harry restrained him:—
“Hear me out,” he continued, “and then, when you understand the tenour and amount of my accusation, you can say what you like in your defence. You considered my wife pretty and good-natured, and you fancied, or were told, it would give you éclat with the set you have unfortunately mixed up with—and a very shady set I’m afraid they are—to have a sentimental love-affair with some pretty young married woman. I was not quite the blind careless creature you imagined me all the time we were in London; on the contrary, I saw what was going on plainly enough, and was annoyed at it—but nothing more. I had the most thorough confidence in my wife; and she is so real in all her feelings, so completely fresh and genuine, that I was not afraid your sentimentality would infect her; moreover, I trusted to your own good heart to keep you from going very far wrong; but, towards the conclusion of our stay in Park Lane, I heard remarks dropped at clubs, and observed other things, which made me resolve to put an end to the folly: and as the quietest and best way of doing so, I took Alice out of town. As far as she was concerned, the experiment appears to have succeeded; for I can’t flatter your vanity by saying that I believe she ever gave you a second thought. But with you it does not seem to have had the desired effect; for, a few days since, I was not best pleased to perceive a letter for my wife in your handwriting. Wait!” he continued, seeing Lord Alfred was again about to speak; “Hear me out: I shall not try your patience much longer. This letter I chose to give her myself, for the purpose of asking her, as soon as she had read it, to show it to me—”
“And she refused?” observed Lord Alfred, coolly.
“Yes, sir, she did!” returned Harry, with flashing eyes; “she refused to show me that letter; and at the same time was unable or unwilling to give me any good reason for objecting to satisfy my just demand: and now, perhaps, you can guess at the nature of my business with you. I have come up to town to obtain from you the information I have been unable to gain from her; and I now ask you to repeat to me, as nearly as you can, word for word, the contents of that letter.”
“Under what penalty if I should decline to comply with your—somewhat unusual request?” was the reply.