Delaware; or, The Ruined Family. Vol. 3

by G. P. R. James

"Oh, no! I was not thinking of that," replied the young man. "I one time thought that I should be glad almost that they did hang me, just to show those d----d rascals that I had not turned king's evidence against them with any thought of myself. But I think differently, now I have got this shot. But, mind, I do not make any bargain. I will go over as a prisoner, and they shall do with me as they like--I'll not flinch--No, no, I'll not flinch!"

Here the surgeon, who did not understand a word that was said, and of course did not like the conversation, laid his hand upon Beauchamp's arm, and gently hinted that perfect quiet was absolutely necessary to any hope of the wounded man's recovery; and that gentleman accordingly left him, with a few kind and consolatory words. He then called the surgeon into one of the other rooms, and, making him dress the wound on his cheek, which had been hitherto neglected, he gave him a substantial earnest of after reward, explaining to him, that the life of the young man under his care, was of the most immense importance as a witness; and begging him, at the same time, to watch every turn which the injury he had received might take, in order that his dying declaration might be drawn up, if recovery were to be found impossible. He then left his address, and returned home; but although extremely fatigued, both by exertion and excitement, he did not lie down to rest till he had seen a courier despatched to London, bearing the news of the capture of Harding and his accomplices; and begging that, without a moment's delay, officers, properly authorized, might be sent over to convey the prisoners to England.

The messenger was ordered to spare no expense, and to lose no time; and he certainly performed his task with very great rapidity. In the meanwhile, the news of Beauchamp's adventure spread through Paris, as if it had been a country town; and, as it may well be supposed that the hotel in which he lodged was one of the first places in which the story developed itself, Mrs. Darlington received it at her toilet the next morning, and instantly wrote a billet to Mr. Beauchamp, beseeching him to let her see him as soon as he was up. This, folded in the newest fashion, and sealed with the newest seal, reached Beauchamp as he was concluding his breakfast; and, in order to quench the worthy lady's thirst, he at once walked down to her apartments.

Mrs. Darlington was as delighted as bienseance would permit her to be, at the sight of Henry Beauchamp, with a black patch on his cheek, which confirmed all the pretty story she had heard before he came; and her questions, though excessively small and quiet, were, like the little hairy savages that scaled Sinbad's ship, innumerable, and attacking him on all sides.

Beauchamp detailed the whole events; and, if he had been a little bored by the lady's interrogatories, the joy and satisfaction which Mrs. Darlington expressed on hearing that the exculpation of Captain Delaware could now be fully made out--the sincere personal gratification she seemed to feel, made up for all, and placed her high in his good graces. The assurance that, amongst the culprits, one at least of the personages who had set fire to her house was more than probably included, did not seem to interest her half so much as the proofs obtained of William Delaware's innocence; and she returned again and again to the subject, declaring, that nothing would be so delightful as to write to dear Blanche, and give her the whole details.

"Pray, are you in possession of her address?" demanded Beauchamp, assuming as indifferent a tone as it was possible for a man in his situation to affect.

"No, indeed!" replied Mrs. Darlington; "but she will write to me soon, of course."

Beauchamp was mortified; for he had caught at Mrs. Darlington's words at once, as if they gave the full assurance of discovering the abode of her he loved, without farther search or uncertainty. After musing for a moment, however, he said, "I hope, my dear madam, when you do write, you will offer my best compliments to Miss Delaware--who, I dare say you know, is my cousin--and tell her that I have endeavoured, as far as was in my power, to obey the commands with which she favoured me. As I doubt not that you will give her the details of all this story, you may assure her in the most positive manner, from me, that her brother's character will at once be cleared of every imputation, and that all who know him, will hail his return to England with the utmost joy."

Now Mrs. Darlington perceived, as plainly as woman could perceive, that Henry Beauchamp was in love with Blanche Delaware. She had long ago seen it would be so, and now she saw it was so; but yet, for one half of Europe, she would not have let Beauchamp understand that she saw anything of the kind. She had known so many excellent arrangements of the sort spoiled outright by some impolitic, good-natured, stupid friend, jesting upon the subject, or insinuating his mighty discoveries, before Cupid was bound hand and foot--which is never the case ere the matter has come to a declaration--that she answered in the most commonplace way it is possible to imagine--assured Beauchamp that she would give his message correctly--declared that she doubted not Blanche and her father would travel for a year or two; and then began to speak of the beautiful bonnet brought out by Madame ----, of the Fauxbourg St. Germains.

Beauchamp, though he would have seen through every turning of the good lady's tact, had any body else been concerned, was completely blinded in his own case--like all the rest of the world--and, after having given a scientific opinion upon the brides de blonde and the bordures he rose and took his leave, fully persuaded that Mrs. Darlington was as ignorant of his love for Blanche Delaware as he himself was of millinery.