"Because I hate him," retorted his lordship,—"detest him."
"And for what reason, my lord? his character is unimpeached, and he is your near relative."
"I tell you, sir, that I hate him—would that he were now lying dead at my feet!"
Hardly were the words out of my uncle's mouth, when a whizzing was heard for a second, and then something fell down within a foot of where they stood, with a heavy crash. They started—turned round—the adopted heir lay lifeless at their feet, and their legs were bespattered with his blood and his brains. The poor boy, seeing his lordship below, had leaned out of one of the upper windows to call to him, but lost his balance, and had fallen head foremost upon the wide stone pavement which surrounded the mansion. For a few seconds the lawyer and my uncle looked upon each other with horror.
"A judgment!—a judgment!" cried the lawyer, looking at his client. My uncle covered his face with his hands, and fell. Assistance now came out, but there was more than one to help up. The violence of his emotion had brought on an apoplectic fit, and my uncle, although he breathed, never spoke again.
It was in consequence of this tragical event, of which we did not know the particulars until afterwards, that the next morning my solicitor called upon me, and put a letter into my hand, saying, "Allow me to congratulate your lordship." We were all at breakfast at the time, and the general, O'Brien, and myself jumped up, all in such astonishment at this unexpected title being so soon conferred upon me, that we had a heavy bill for damages to pay; and had not Ellen caught the tea-urn, as it was tipping over, there would, in all probability, have been a doctor's bill into the bargain. The letter was eagerly read—it was from my uncle's legal adviser, who had witnessed the catastrophe, informing me, that all dispute as to the succession was at an end by the tragical event that had taken place, and that he had put seals upon everything, awaiting my arrival or instructions. The solicitor, as he presented the letter, said that he would take his leave, and call again in an hour or two, when I was more composed. My first movement, when I had read the letter aloud, was to throw my arms round Celeste, and embrace her—and O'Brien, taking the hint, did the same to Ellen, and was excused in consideration of circumstances; but, as soon as she could disengage herself, her arms were entwined round my neck, while Celeste was hanging on her father's. Having disposed of the ladies, the gentlemen now shook hands, and though we had not all appetites to finish our breakfasts, never was there a happier quintette.
In about an hour my solicitor returned, and congratulated me, and immediately set about the necessary preparations. I desired him to go down immediately to Eagle Park, attend to the funeral of my uncle, and the poor little boy who had paid so dearly for his intended advancement, and take charge from my uncle's legal adviser, who remained in the house. The "dreadful accident in high life" found its way into the papers of the day, and before dinner time a pile of visiting cards was poured in, which covered the table. The next day a letter arrived from the First Lord, announcing that he had made out my commission as post-captain, and trusted that I would allow him the pleasure of presenting it himself at his dinner hour, at half-past seven. Very much obliged to him, the "fool of the family" might have waited a long while for it.
While I was reading this letter, the waiter came up to say that a young woman below wanted to speak to me. I desired her to be shown up. As soon as she came in, she burst into tears, knelt down, and kissed my hand.
"Sure, it's you—oh! yes—it's you that saved my poor husband when I was assisting to your ruin. And an't I punished for my wicked doings—an't my poor boy dead?"
She said no more, but remained on her knees, sobbing bitterly. Of course, the reader recognises in her the wet-nurse who had exchanged her child. I raised her up, and desired her to apply to my solicitor to pay her expenses, and leave her address.