Charles shed tears, while his heart was agitated with many conflicting emotions,—gratitude for the assurance thus given to him—joy that he was so completely pardoned—bitter regret that he should have ever contemplated aught prejudicial to the interests of the generous earl—vexation on account of the facility with which he had been led astray—and shame at the deplorable errors he had committed.
But when he heard the kind, affectionate, and re-assuring language addressed to him alike by his father and Lord Ellingham,—when he learnt that the main particulars of his late proceedings were to be kept a solemn secret in respect to his mother, the countess, and Lady Frances,—and when he was made acquainted with the project which the earl had suggested relative to placing him about the person of the idol of his heroic worship—the new Grand Duke of Castelcicala,—a genial tide of consolation was poured into his soul; and he felt that the future might yet teem with bright hopes for him!
But not a word was breathed either by Mr. Hatfield or Lord Ellingham respecting that other prospect which had evoked so much enlightened reasoning and such liberal sentiments from the lips of the earl: we mean the probability of a marriage eventually taking place between the young man and the beautiful Lady Frances Ellingham.
With the proposal that he should enter the service of the Grand Duke, Charles was delighted; and the earl promised to visit his Sovereign Highness early in the morning, at Markham Place, to proffer the request which he had to make as the necessary preliminary.
The nobleman, Mr. Hatfield, and Charles now repaired to the mansion in Pall Mall, where the presence of the two latter, especially of the last-mentioned, caused feelings of joy which we must leave the reader to imagine.
CHAPTER CLVII.
POLITICAL OBSERVATIONS.—THE DEPARTURE OF CHARLES HATFIELD.
Yes—it was true that the Prince of Montoni had become Grand Duke of Castelcicala; and those who have read the First Series of “The Mysteries of London,” have now traced the career of Richard Markham from the period of his obscure boyhood until the time when his brow is circled by a sovereign crown!
And when we reflect that it was a Revolution which evoked his brilliant qualities as a warrior and a statesman,—when we call to mind the fact that it was the cry of “Liberty” which became the watch-word of his achievements and the herald of his triumphs,—we cannot do otherwise, on reaching this point in our narrative, than avail ourselves of so fitting an opportunity to notice the grand and glorious struggle that has so lately taken place in the capital of France.
Oh! the French are a fine people, and are destined to teach the world some signal lessons in the school of Political Freedom!
People of England! accord your sympathies—your best and most generous sympathies—to that gallant Parisian population which has so recently dethroned a miscreant Monarch, and hurled an execrable Ministry from the seat of power!