Now, the Earl of Ashborough had lately discovered, that in pursuit of his right honourable revenge against Sir Sidney Delaware, he had hatched a crocodile's egg in his poultry-yard; and though he certainly repented having done so, in exact proportion to the consequent evil it had brought upon himself, he of course felt his hatred towards Sir Sidney Delaware, increased in the same degree. Lord Ashborough would not have given his right hand, or any thing the least like it, to have had full vengeance on the Delaware family, for he was a man that valued both his hands highly, and would not have parted with either of them; but whereas he would, a month or two before, have given a considerable portion of his golden stores, which were the next things to drops of his blood, he would now have given double the sum, to see the ruin of the race he hated. As he lay back, then, in the chariot, he thought over all the events, and could not help hoping that some circumstance might yet give him an opportunity of balancing the long account of those vexations and uncomforts which had fallen upon him, in, with, from, through, and by the affairs of Sir Sidney Delaware, and also of inflicting upon that gentleman and his family evils in a like proportion.
"At all events," he thought--and it was the most consolatory reflection that he had been able to find--"At all events, they have been forced to leave the country, and have most probably gone to America; so that all danger of such a degrading connexion being formed by Beauchamp, is now at an end. So far, therefore, my labour and anxiety has not been in vain, and I may flatter myself at least, that one great object has been gained, if not the whole."
There was another slight gleam of hope or expectation, flickering over the dying lamp of the earl's former designs. If one may use the term, it was a hopeless hope--the stout swimmer's last gasp--yet without it Lord Ashborough would probably never have attended to Harding's request. Hating all the Delaware race as he did, he had not been able to persuade himself fully that Captain Delaware was entirely innocent, notwithstanding the convincing proofs that Beauchamp had laid before him; and he now thought it possible--barely possible--that the murderer Harding might have something to say which would in some way inculpate William Delaware.
All these ideas rolled in the earl's mind like the morning clouds of spring--misty, and vague, and varying in shape and size, though still keeping one general character--till night came, and he fell asleep.
He awoke about eight o'clock, as the carriage stopped in the county town of ----, and looking out, saw the bright lamp over the ever-open glass-doors of the principal inn, and the waiters rushing forth to seize upon the inmate of the carriage and four. His lordship's agility not being what it had been, he entered the house of many tenants, with slow and dignified steps; and taking possession of the best apartments, demanded whether Mr. Beauchamp were still there. The waiter replied in the affirmative, and in a few minutes the greeting of the uncle and nephew had taken place. As neither had dined, and Beauchamp's dinner was just upon the table, the earl became his guest, while a servant was despatched to the prison, in order to notify his arrival, in compliance with the request of Harding.
As far as possible, Lord Ashborough never disturbed his appetite in the exercise of its functions, by any conversation which might become disagreeable; and consequently he abstained, with infinite forbearance, from touching upon the proceedings in regard to the Ryebury affair, till biscuits and wine stood upon the table by themselves. He then, however, asked his nephew how the events of the assizes had gone. Beauchamp, in reply, gave him a succinct account of all that had taken place, without forgetting to mention that the bill against Captain Delaware had been thrown out by the grand jury with every mark of indignant rejection; and on seeing his uncle bite his lip, he added, "So, now, every shade of doubt and suspicion has been removed from the character of William Delaware; and I trust very soon to see him and his family return to England, and resume that station in society for which they were born, and in which your lordship's liberal conduct, in regard to the annuity, will enable them to move with greater ease."
Lord Ashborough turned rather pale; but he replied at once, "I trust not sir! I trust not!"
"And, pray, why not?" demanded Beauchamp, with more surprise at the frank avowal of such a wish, than at the existence thereof.
"I will tell you, Henry Beauchamp," replied the Earl; "I will tell you. It is on your account, I say, that I hope not. I have not chosen to speak to you, since your return, upon your previous conduct towards this family of Delawares, because I trusted that circumstance would have removed them for ever from our neighbourhood; but now, that there appears a possibility of their returning, I must tell you that I have never been ignorant, from the first, of your masquerading visit to the country; and I must farther say, that a report has reached me of your trifling with the old man's daughter--That you would ever dream of marrying the girl, of course I do not believe; but the very report is unpleasant, and might injure your views in a fitting alliance."
Beauchamp had a great deal of trouble to master the mixture of personal anger and indignation which his uncle's speech had created in his bosom, and to reduce his reply to terms of respect and moderation. He succeeded, however, in putting out a good deal of the fire, ere he answered, "My lord, as far as a kindred interest in my affairs and prospects goes, I feel that your zeal on the present occasion, must of course add to the gratitude and affection I entertain towards you, for a long train of kindnesses in the past; but you will pardon me, if I say that a certain line must be drawn between anxiety in regard to my welfare, and dictation in regard to my conduct--for beyond that line, I can permit no one to trespass."