"Really, I have never considered the matter, with reference to such personages as that," replied Morley, with a laugh. "I think it better to mind my own business, and not to pry into their affairs. But really, Lieberg, your mixture of moral philosophy and roast lamb, metaphysics and mint sauce, is too German for my English understanding."
Lieberg in turn laughed, saying--"It is not very usual table-talk, I confess, but it was suggested to me by the subject that brought me here to-day. One part of my creed is, that persons who are destined to affect each other's fate, are generally brought together by a power manifestly superior to their own will, and that--struggle against it as much as we please--the overruling hand which is upon us links in act with act, life with life, and circumstance with circumstance, in such a manner as to connect two persons together in particular events by means the most unlikely."
"Well!" exclaimed Morley, eagerly, and with his curiosity greatly excited--"well, Lieberg, what then? How does this bear upon the matter?"
"Why, I think, my dear Morley," replied Lieberg, "that you and I seem destined by fate, though, perhaps, not by disposition, to act together. Our first acquaintance was strange. The singular accident that happened to you; the danger that you ran; the fit of sickness that followed; my having a week or ten days to spare, for the purpose of nursing you;--all gave a marked commencement to our intimacy; and now, many other things are combining to compel us, whether we will or not, to co-operate in matters of some moment."
"Indeed!" said Morley. "Can you not tell we in what respect?"
"Not just at present," replied Lieberg. "But, to look once more to the past, I can recollect various curious circumstances which brought about our first meeting in the coach, and without which it could not have taken place. It hung upon the balance of a straw, whether I should go back to Germany in the end of April last, or whether I should go to the south of France, when, meeting a young fisherman accidentally at dinner, I was captivated by his account of fly-fishing in the north, and went to bestow my idleness there. Then, again, I had actually taken my place in the coach from York to London for the preceding day; but a packet of letters which I expected, was delayed for two or three hours, by some accident happening to the mail, and I lost my place and my money rather than come away without them: otherwise we should, in all probability, never have met."
Morley paused, and pondered over the past. He, too, recollected the accidental circumstances which had prevented him from taking post horses and coming to town in his own carriage, and he could not help acknowledging that there was something strange in the whole affair.
There was something strange--there is something strange in every mesh of the fine network of fate, for the eye of him who examines it curiously; and every part of every man's history, if he could trace the connexion with other parts, would present points as curious and interesting as those to which Morley's attention was now called. He did not reply, however, directly to Lieberg's observations, and both falling into a reverie for a few minutes, went on towards the conclusion of their dinner very perseveringly. At length the dishes were taken away, the wine set upon the table, and the room cleared. No sooner was this done, than Morley burst forth impetuously--"Now, Lieberg--now, what is it? I am anxious to hear."
Lieberg smiled, replying--"I see you are, Morley, and I will not keep you in suspense a moment longer.--I did not know that this man had such good claret--this is real La Tour.--Well, you recollect the story you told me about your quarrel with Neville, and the wild young scamp you wanted to save from what old ladies call 'his evil courses,' and his pretty sister, and the whole of that business?"
"Yes," replied Morley, impatiently, "I recollect very well. What of that?"