“Pardon, Monsieur, ce n’est pas ma faute,” said the valet, applying a napkin to stanch the blood which flowed from his master’s cheek.
“It was not,” replied Rainscourt, recovering himself; “I had a slight spasm.”
The operation was continued, and fortunately had just been finished when the valet resumed,—“Et rappelez-vous Monsieur le Vicaire de —. Il est arrivé hier au soir, on a visit to Mr McElvina.”
“The devil he is?” replied Rainscourt, springing from his chair, at the corroborating incident to his previous ground of alarm.
The astonished countenance of the valet restored the master to his senses. “Bring me my coffee—I am nervous this morning.”
But Rainscourt had not long to endure suspense. He had barely finished his toilet, when he was informed that the vicar, McElvina, and some other gentlemen, were below, and wished to speak to him. Rainscourt, anxious to know the worst, descended to the library, where he found the parties before mentioned, accompanied by Debriseau and a legal gentleman. We shall not enter into details. To the dismay of Rainscourt, the identity of our hero was established beyond all doubt, and he felt convinced that eventually he should be forced to surrender up the property. His indignation was chiefly levelled at McElvina, whom he considered as the occasion of the whole, not only from having rescued our hero from the wreck, but because it was by his assertions, corroborated by Debriseau, that the chain of evidence was clearly substantiated. McElvina, who, from long acquaintance, had a feeling towards Rainscourt which his conduct did not deserve, waited only for his acknowledgment of our hero’s claim to communicate the circumstance of the attachment between the young people, which would have barred all further proceedings, and have settled it in an amicable arrangement.
“Well, gentlemen,” observed Rainscourt, “if you can satisfactorily prove in a court of justice all you have now stated, I shall of course bow to its decision; but you must excuse me if, out of regard to my daughter, I resist, until the assertions can be substantiated on oath. You cannot expect otherwise.”
“We do not expect otherwise, Mr Rainscourt,” replied McElvina,—“but we think it will not be necessary that it should go into court.”
“Mr McElvina,” interrupted Rainscourt, angrily,—“I wish no observations from you. After your intimacy with the family, particularly with my daughter, who, by your means, will probably forfeit all her prospects, I consider your conduct base and treacherous. You’ll excuse my ringing the bell for the servant to show you the door.”
McElvina turned pale with rage. “Then, sir, you shall have no suggestions from me. Come, gentlemen, we will retire,” continued McElvina, now determined that Rainscourt should be left in ignorance for the present; and the parties quitted the room, little contemplating that such direful consequences would ensue from this trifling altercation.