He then left the gloomy precincts of the debtors' gaol, and retraced his steps towards the City.
"Eighteen hundred pounds would procure the count's liberation," he said to himself: "eighteen hundred pounds, which he does not possess, and which he is too proud to borrow,—eighteen hundred pounds, which would restore him to his family, and make Isabella happy! My property is worth four thousand pounds:—if I raise two thousand pounds upon it, I shall curtail my income by exactly one half. I shall have one hundred pounds a-year remaining. But my education was good—my acquirements are not contemptible: surely I can turn them to some account?"
Then it suddenly struck him that he had already raised five hundred pounds upon his estate at the period when the Resurrection Man endeavoured to extort that sum from him; and half of this sum had already disappeared in consequence of the amount given to Talbot (alias Pocock) in the Dark-House—the assistance rendered to Monroe and Ellen—his journey to Boulogne—and other claims. Then there would be the expenses of deeds to reckon. If he raised two thousand pounds more, his property would only remain worth to him about fifteen hundred pounds. His income would therefore be reduced to seventy-five pounds per annum.
But not for one moment did this noble-hearted young man hesitate relative to the course he should pursue; and without delay he proceeded to the office of Mr. Dyson, his solicitor, in the City.
There the business was speedily explained and put in train. It would, however, require, said the solicitor, four days to terminate the affair; but Markham did not leave him until he had fixed the precise moment when the deeds were to be signed and the money paid over.
Richard returned home in a state of mind more truly happy than he had known for some time past. He had resolved upon an immense sacrifice, to benefit those whom he esteemed or loved; and he was prepared to meet any consequences which it might produce. This is human nature. We may inure ourselves to the contemplation of any idea, however appalling or alarming it may appear at first sight, without a shudder and almost without a regret. The convict, under sentence of death in the condemned cell, and his ears ringing with the din of the hammers erecting the scaffold, does not experience such acute mental agony as the world are apt to suppose. We all have the certainty of death, at some date more or less near, before our eyes; and yet this conviction does not trouble our mental equanimity. The convict who is doomed to die, is only worse off than ourselves inasmuch as the precise day, hour, and moment of his fate are revealed to him; but his death, which is to be sudden and only of a moment's pain, must be a thousand times preferable to the long, lingering, agonising throes of sickness which many of those who pity him are eventually doomed to endure before their thread of existence shall be severed for ever!
Yes—we can bring our minds to meet every species of mortal affliction with resignation, and even with cheerfulness;—and there is no sorrow, no malady, no pang, which issued from Pandora's box, that did not bear the imprint of hope along with it!
True to the appointed time, Richard proceeded to the office of Mr. Dyson, on the fourth day from the commencement of the business.
He signed the papers and received two thousand pounds.
The lawyer shook his head, implying his fears that his client was improvident and wasteful.