"I did, indeed," answered Manners; "and I trust that you will let me aid in your noble design."
"I do not know that it will be necessary now, for I am likely to take other measures," answered Sir William. "My own private income was not sufficient, though I had saved out of a thousand a year, which was all that I possessed, sufficient to lay a good foundation; but I also wished the British government to interfere for the more general and powerful protection of the Indians, and this was one reason of my coming. I longed too, as I have said, to see many of my relations and friends; but I wished to do so privately. There were two persons, especially, of whom I was desirous of bearing more than I could in America. One--over whom I hold some power, from various transactions in the past--I wished to watch closely for a short time, and treat him according to his merits. The other--who, though more independent of me, I could raise up or cast down as I pleased--I desired to sift thoroughly, to examine every trait in his character, to probe every feeling in his heart, with the resolution of leaving him, ultimately, to happiness, if I found him noble and true; but at the same time to give him a severe lesson, which might crush early some failings; some peculiar evils in his disposition, that would, if suffered to remain, lead hereafter to misery, to himself and others. Various occurrences have taken place since to alter or derange these plans; and, as we are from day to day the creatures of circumstances over which we have no control, I am now waiting for some decisive event to determine for me a line of conduct which I find some difficulty in determining for myself."
"I am afraid, Sir William," answered Manners, "that even if I were to explain all this in your own words to Miss De Vaux, she would still be as much perplexed as ever; and I have often remarked, that in the minds of the timid--especially where there is real cause for uneasiness--everything that is doubtful and mysterious is interpreted into afresh cause of apprehension and alarm. Besides, according to my contract with your acquaintance Pharold, and the stipulations which you have yourself implied, with regard to your name, so far from explaining all these motives, I am not even to disclose that I have seen you."
Sir William Ryder paused for a moment or two in deep thought; and Manners, seeing that he was embarrassed, added, "Perhaps, Sir William, the best way for me to act will be, to give Miss De Vaux a true account of the state of her cousin's health; to tell that I have seen him, but to add that, from particular causes, which I must explain hereafter, I can neither inform her where he is, nor enable her to see him. I have always found it best, wherever I have been embarrassed with any mystery of my own--which, thank God, has been seldom the case--to meet the matter at once, and say, I will not tell, without entangling myself in half explanations, which do me no good, and only serve those, whose curiosity or feelings are interested, as materials for imagination to build up visionary castles withal."
"Perhaps you are right," said Sir William: "but stay yet a moment! A word or two more with our friend in the next room--I mean the gipsy--may decide my conduct."
Manners smiled at the sort of counsellors by whom he had found his friend surrounded in both hemispheres. When first he met Sir William Ryder, he had seen him every day in deep consultation with Indian chiefs; and now his principal reliance seemed to be upon gipsies: but, at present, that somewhat eccentric personage was disappointed in his purpose of calling Pharold to his councils; for when he opened the door--which led into a small neat study, with a table covered with papers, money, and lights, in the midst thereof--he found the room untenanted by any living thing.
"I had forgot," he said, turning back with a smile--"I had forgot that one half-hour in the air of a close room is too much for Pharold's endurance. He is gone, and I must send for him when I want him."
"You seem to place more reliance on him," said Manners, pointing to the heaps of gold and papers on the table, "than most Englishmen would upon one of his race."
"I would trust him, I may well say, with untold gold," answered Sir William Ryder; "as you would, Manners, if you knew him as I do. He has corresponded with me in America for twenty years; and one might be glad if, in the highest ranks, one could find so exact, so true, and so punctual a correspondent." The reader, who has already received much information concerning things of which Manners was ignorant, may easily understand some of the motives of a correspondence between two persons so different in station. Manners also had by this time discovered that his friend's acquaintance with the gipsy was certainly not of yesterday; yet there was still sufficient matter, both new and strange, in what he heard, to make him, not only feel surprised, but look it also. Sir William Ryder, however, who probably did not wish to give any further explanation, instantly led the conversation away, saying, "But to return to what we were speaking of, Manners. I must soon come to some determination; and, perhaps, I have been weak in not forming one already: but there are spots of weakness in every one's heart, as there are spots of madness in every one's brain; and I have my share, of course, of both. However, I will limit myself to a time; and when you return to Morley House, you may tell the poor girl, that though it is judged expedient that she should not see her cousin to-morrow, yet on the next morning the old gentleman with whom he is--Mr. Harley, remember--will be very happy to receive her here, together with her aunt, as I suppose she will be afraid to venture on such an expedition alone. If," he added,--"if I should find reason to change my present purpose, I can but affect the barbarian, and be absent when the ladies come."
"Such tidings will, indeed, give joy and peace," answered Manners: "but before I go to-morrow, I must take care to ascertain where your dwelling stands; for, coming hither at night, and across the country, I am totally ignorant of everything concerning the spot where I now am, except that it is more than a hundred miles from London, which I found out by a mile-stone on the road."