"Then is my task the more easy," exclaimed Richard. "I allude to Sir Rupert Harborough and Mr. Chichester, the latter of whom assumes the distinction of Honourable."
"And is he not of noble birth, my lord?" inquired Egerton.
"He is the son of a tradesman," answered Markham. "But that is no disgrace in my estimation: far from it! The industrious classes are the pillars of England's greatness; and I for one would rather walk arm-in-arm along the most fashionable thoroughfare with the honest mechanic or upright shopkeeper, than boast of intimacy even with a King who is unworthy of esteem and respect."
Egerton surveyed with unfeigned admiration the individual from whose lips these noble sentiments emanated—sentiments the more noble, inasmuch as they were expressed by one whose rank was so exalted, and who stood so high above his fellow-men.
"Yes," continued Markham, "your friend Mr. Chichester is one of those impostors who assume title and distinction as well to aid their nefarious courses as to gratify their own grovelling pride. I do not speak with malignity of that man—although I once suffered so much through him: for were he to seek my forgiveness, heaven knows how readily it would be accorded. Neither is it to gratify any mean sentiment of revenge that I now warn you against these two individuals. My present conduct is dictated by a sense of duty, and by an ardent desire to save a young and confiding young man, as I believe you to be, from the snares of unprincipled adventurers."
"Oh! now a light breaks in upon me," exclaimed Egerton; "and I recognise in the actions of those whom I lately deemed my friends, all the designing intrigues to which your Highness alludes! Fool that I was to be thus deceived!"
"Rather thank heaven that the means of redemption have arrived ere it be too late," said the Prince, impressively; "for I can scarcely believe, from all I have heard concerning you, that your affairs are in a state of ruin which admits of no hope."
"Your Highness argues truly," exclaimed Egerton: "I have yet sufficient resources remaining to furnish me with the means of an honourable livelihood."
"Then you need scarcely regret the amount you have paid for the purchase of experience," said the Prince. "But allow me to place in your hands proofs of the iniquity of Sir Rupert Harborough and his friend. Behold these two documents! They contain the narrative of as foul a scheme of turpitude as ever called the misdirected vengeance of the law upon an innocent victim. The first of these papers is the confession of an engraver whom Harborough and Chichester made the instrument of that project which at one time covered my name with so dark a cloud. You seem astonished at what I say? Oh! then you are ignorant of that episode in my chequered life."
"Never have I heard rumour busy with your lordship's name, save to its honour and glory," observed Egerton, in a tone of convincing sincerity.