“But where could he address himself to this task of raising the veil from the mysteries of by-gone years—even if he have the slightest ground to suspect that such mysteries do exist?” demanded Mr. Hatfield, interrupting the Earl. “To what source could he repair for the means of elucidation?”
“I know not: and yet—I am now impressed with suspicions of a most unpleasant nature,” observed the Earl. “It is very essential that some immediate step should be taken to redeem this fine young man from a career of error—perhaps of depravity——”
“Oh! yes—yes!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield. “My God! if the sins of the father be in this case visited upon the son, life will become intolerable to me!—Rather would I at once have a full and complete understanding with Charles,—tell him all—yes, all,—reveal to him who I really am—open to him the means of a complete retrospection, embracing all my sad history,—and then throw myself on his mercy—imploring him at least to have pity upon his innocent mother, if not on me who am so guilty!”
“No—no, Thomas: this humiliation may not be!” ejaculated the Earl. “For if, as you believe, your son has at present no suspicion of the past, it would be madness to make unnecessary revelations.”
“I am bewildered—cruelly perplexed: I know not how to act!” cried Mr. Hatfield. “Oh! if I were confident that he has no such suspicions—that he has learnt or surmised nothing calculated to diminish the respect due to his mother and myself——”
“How can he have fathomed the obscurity which hangs over your former life?” demanded the Earl. “And as to supposing that he could, by any possible means, obtain even the shadow of an idea of your real birth and parentage——”
“No: for the papers—those important papers which I gave you years ago, and which I requested you to destroy,—those papers, I say,” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, “could alone make such important revelations to my son: and, thank heaven! they are not in existence.”
“My dear brother,” returned the Earl of Ellingham, taking Mr. Hatfield’s hand, and speaking in a very serious tone, “I most frankly and honestly inform you that those papers have not been destroyed. At the same time, they have been kept in a place of perfect security—a secret recess known only to myself——”
“And wherefore were not such dangerous documents burnt—annihilated!” asked Mr. Hatfield, in a reproachful tone.
“I dared not perform a deed which would argue so much selfishness on my part,” replied the Earl of Ellingham, now speaking with a strong emphasis—the result and impulse of his generous, lofty, honourable feelings. “So long as those papers remain in existence, you, my dear brother, can at any moment say to me, ‘I repent of the step which I took in renouncing my just rights and privileges; and I now claim them:’—and should you at any time thus address me, it would only be for me to produce the papers that establish your claims.”