Sir B—— M——‘s concluding words filled Betty with joy, and I believe she would have pierced her perfidious lover to the heart if he had been brought before her at that moment.
“We shall find him at Roland’s,” said I.
Sir B—— M—— took Betty in his arms, and gazed at me with an air of content, as if he would have shewn me the greatness of an English heart—a greatness which more than atones for its weakness.
“I understand your purpose,” I said, “but you shall not execute your plans without me. Let me have the charge of seeing that justice is done you. If you will not agree, I shall start for Rome directly, I shall get there before you, and shall give the wretched actor warning of your approach. If you had killed him before I should have said nothing, but at Rome it is different, and you would have reason to repent of having indulged your righteous indignation. You don’t know Rome and priestly justice. Come, give me your hand and your word to do nothing without my consent, or else I shall leave you directly.”
Sir B—— M—— was a man of my own height but somewhat thinner, and five or six years older; the reader will understand his character without my describing it.
My speech must have rather astonished him, but he knew that my disposition was benevolent, and he could not help giving me his hand and his pledge.
“Yes, dearest,” said Betty, “leave vengeance to the friend whom Heaven has sent us.”
“I consent to do so, provided everything is done in concert between us.”
After this we parted, and Sir B—— M——, being in need of rest, I went to tell the vetturino that we should start for Rome again on the following day.
“For Rome! Then you have found your pocketbook? It seems to me, my good sir, that you would have been wiser not to search for it.”