Louis's heightening colour overspread his face, as the Duke concluded; but collecting all his powers of self-denial, "My Lord," said he, "You are very good; but I must go!—The tide now serves, and delay——"
Wharton released his arm with an air of pique.—The resolution of Louis to depart, and without assigning his guardian's reason for insisting on his return, was enough for the ready apprehension of the Duke. He at once comprehended that Mr. Athelstone foresaw a change in his nephew's moral and political principles, should he be permitted to cultivate an intimacy, which, it was evident, was the secret wish of that nephew's heart.—The Duke saw the struggle between inclination and duty. He saw, that persuasions to stay, by causing Louis to summon more of his moral strength to oppose his own desire to stay, only ensured his departure; and therefore the moment Wharton perceived the real position of the enemy, he made a russe de guerre, and drew off.
"I shall not withstand your own inclination, Mr. de Montemar," said he, as he turned away with assumed coldness. The words smote on the heart of Louis. Sir Anthony, who had caught their unusual tone, looked towards the Duke and his nephew. He saw the former walk with a grave demeanor towards a window, and the latter gaze after him with an agitated countenance. The baronet approached Louis, and in a whisper asked what had happened.
"I must obey my uncle's command to return to Lindisfarne."
This reply re-called to Sir Anthony his own promise to the same effect. He reddened angrily: "and you have told the Duke, Mr. Athelstone's monkish antipathy to his gaiety and good humour?"
"No, dear Sir, but I have told him, I must go; that I am pledged to go. And though he injures me by supposing that I am such an Insensible as to obey without reluctance; yet I respect my word too much, and hold my uncle's command too sacred, to hesitate about what I ought to do."
With a hurrying step, he was moving towards the door; when the baronet made one angry stride, and stretching forth his athletic arm, grasped his nephew's; and with an enraged countenance drew him into an anti-room, waving his other hand to the Duke to follow. Wharton was too good a general to comply immediately; and Sir Anthony, as soon as he could speak without the observation of strangers, burst into a loud and violent invective on his uncle's unjustifiable prejudices against the Duke.
"What can he charge him with?" cried the baronet,—"That he is young? The fitter to be your companion!—That he is gay? And if a man be not gay in his youth, when is he to be gay?—That he is married, and does not live with his wife? What man of spirit would keep any terms with a woman, who wheedled him into wedlock, before he was out of his teens!—That he is fond of wine? His thirst does not make you drink!—That he is liked by women; and not ungrateful to their kindness? Why Louis, your old uncle had best shut you up at once with the dead bones in the abbey vaults! And then he calls him a rebel to his King! What of that? If the King himself does not fear him, but lets him go at large amongst his subjects; why should the Pastor of Lindisfarne take more care for His Majesty, than His Majesty thinks proper to take for himself! I tell you, Louis, the cloven-foot is under the surplice. It is resentment of an old affront, that excites all this animosity in the mind of Mr. Athelstone."
There was much in this speech, and more in the manner of it, that offended the best feelings of Louis. "Sir," said he, "I thank you for having recalled to me my uncle's arguments on this subject. He may be mistaken as to the extent of the facts; but till he is so far convinced of his error, as to release me from the promise I gave him, to avoid the Duke; I must consider myself bound to abide by it."
The baronet's face now became purple. "Louis! am not I your uncle, as well as this domineering priest? I am your mother's brother; and from her, I have rights, he cannot claim. You respect his commands! By what authority will you disobey mine? I therefore order you, on your peril, not to stir from this house, till it is my pleasure to let you go."