"Sir Robert Croyland," said Mr. Radford, sternly and slowly, "I will have no more trifling. I have indulged you too long. Your daughter must be my son's wife before he quits this country--which must be the case for a time, till we can get this affair wiped out by our parliamentary influence. Her fortune must be his, she must be his wife, I say, before four days are over.--Now, my good friend," he continued, falling back, in a degree, into his usual manner, which had generally a touch of sarcastic bitterness in it when addressing his present companion, "what means you may please to adopt to arrive at this desirable result I cannot tell; but as the young lady has shown an aversion to the match, not very flattering to my son----"
"Is it not his own fault?" cried Sir Robert Croyland, roused to some degree of indignation and resistance--"has he ever, by word or deed, sought to remove that reluctance? Has he wooed her as woman always requires to be wooed? Has he not rather shown a preference to her sister, paid her all attention, courted, admired her?"
"Pity you suffered it, Sir Robert," answered Radford; "but permit me, in your courtesy, to go on with what I was saying. As the young lady has shown this unfortunate reluctance, I anticipate no effect from your proposed use of parental authority. I believe your requests and your commands will be equally unavailing; and, therefore, I say, tell her, her father's life depends upon it; for I will have no more trifling, Sir Robert--no more delay--no more hesitation. It must be settled at once--this very day. Before midnight, I must hear that she consents, or you understand!--and consent she will, if you but employ the right means. She may show herself obstinate, undutiful, careless of your wishes and commands; but I do not think that she would like to be the one to tie a halter round her father's neck, or to bring what I think you gentlemen of heraldry and coat-armour call a cross-patonce into the family-bearing--ha, ha, ha!--Do you, Sir Robert?"
The unhappy gentleman to whom he spoke covered his eyes with his hand; but, from beneath, his features could be seen working with the agitation of various emotions, in which rage, impotent though it might be, was not without its share. Suddenly, however, a gleam of hope seemed to shoot across his mind; he withdrew his hand; he looked up with some light in his eyes. "A thought has struck me, Radford," he said; "Zara--we have talked of Zara--why not substitute her for Edith? Listen to me--listen to me. You have not heard all."
Mr. Radford shook his head. "It cannot be done," he replied--"it is quite out of the question."
"Nay, but hear!" exclaimed the baronet. "Not so much out of the question as you think. Look at the whole circumstances, Radford. The great obstacle with Edith, is that unfortunate engagement with young Leyton. She looks upon herself as his wife; she has told me so a thousand times; and I doubt even the effect of the terrible course which you urge upon me so cruelly."
Mr. Radford's brow had grown exceedingly dark at the very mention of the name of Leyton; but he said nothing, and, as if to keep down the feelings that were swelling in his heart, set his teeth hard in his under lip. Sir Robert Croyland saw all these marks of anger, but went on--"Now, the case is different with Zara. Your son has sought her, and evidently admires her; and she has shown herself by no means unfavourable towards him. Besides, I can do with her what I like. There is no such obstacle in her case; and I could bend her to my will with a word--Yes, but hear me out. I know what you would say: she has no fortune; all the land that I can dispose of is mortgaged to the full--the rest goes to my brother, if he survives me.--True, all very true!--But, Radford, listen--if I can induce my brother to give Zara the same fortune which Edith possesses--if this night I can bring it you under his own hand, that she shall have fifty thousand pounds?--You shake your head; you doubt that he will do it; but I can tell you that he would willingly give it, to save Edith from your son. I am ready to pledge you my word, that you shall have that engagement, under his own hand, this very night, or that Edith shall become your son's wife within four days. Let us cast aside all idle circumlocution. It is Edith's fortune for your son, that you require. You can care nothing personally which of the two he marries. As for him, he evidently prefers Zara. She is also well inclined to him. I can--I am sure I can--offer you the same fortune with her. Why should you object?"
Mr. Radford had resumed his seat, and with his arms folded on his chest, and his head bent, had remained in a listening posture. But nothing that he heard seemed to produce any change in his countenance; and when Sir Robert Croyland had concluded, he rose again, took a step towards him, and replied, through his shut teeth, "You are mistaken, Sir Robert Croyland--it is not fortune alone I seek.--It is revenge!--There, ask me no questions, I have told you my determination. Your daughter Edith shall be my son's wife within four days, or Maidstone jail, trial, and execution, shall be your lot. The haughty family of Croyland shall bear the stain of felony upon them to the last generation; and your daughter shall know--for if you do not tell her, I will--that it is her obstinacy which sends her father to the gallows. No more trifling--no more nonsense! Act, sir, as you think fit; but remember, that the words--once passed my lips--can never be recalled; that the secret I have kept buried for so many years, shall to-morrow morning be published to the whole world, if to-night you do not bring me your daughter's consent to what I demand. I am using no vain threats, Sir Robert Croyland," he continued, resuming a somewhat softened tone, "and I do not urge you to this without some degree of regret. You have been very kind and friendly; you have done me good service on several occasions; and it will be with great regret that I become the instrument of your destruction. But still every man has a conscience of some kind. Even I am occasionally troubled with qualms; and I frequently reproach myself for concealing what I am bound to reveal. It is a pity this marriage was not concluded long ago, for then, connected with you by the closest ties; I should have felt myself more justified in holding my tongue. Now, however, it is absolutely necessary that your daughter Edith should become my son's wife. I have pointed out the means which I think will soonest bring it to bear; and if you do not use them, you must abide the consequences. But mark me--no attempt at delay, no prevarication, no hesitation! A clear, positive, distinct answer this night by twelve o'clock, or you are lost!"
Sir Robert Croyland had leaned his arms upon the table, and pressed his eyes upon his arms. His whole frame shook with emotion, and the softer, and seemingly more kindly words of the man before him, were even bitterer to him than the harsher and the fiercer. Though he did not see his face, he knew that there was far more sarcasm than tenderness in them. He had been his slave--his tool, for years--his tool through the basest and most unmanly of human passions--fear; and he felt, not only that he was despised, but that at that moment Radford was revelling in contempt. He could have got up and stabbed him where he stood; for he was naturally a passionate and violent man. But fear had still the dominion; and after a bitter struggle with himself, he conquered his anger, and gave himself up to the thought of meeting the circumstances in which he was placed, as best he might. He was silent for several moments, however, after Mr. Radford had ceased speaking; and then, looking up with an anxious eye and quivering lip, he said, "But how is it possible, Radford, that the marriage should take place in four days? The banns could not be published; and even if you got a licence, your son could not appear at church within the prescribed hours, without running a fatal risk."
"We will have a special licence, my good friend," answered Mr. Radford, with a contemptuous smile. "Do not trouble yourself about that. You will have quite enough to do with your daughter, I should imagine, without annoying yourself with other things. As to my son, I will manage his part of the affair; and he can marry your daughter in your drawing-room, or mine, at an hour when there will be no eager eyes abroad. Money can do all things; and a special licence is not so very expensive but that I can afford it, still. My drawing-room will be best; for then we shall be all secure."