The secretary soon after re-entered. On Mr. Athelstone putting some civil questions to him respecting his present fatigue, and his late long journey; he abruptly answered, "That as his arrival had been delayed by contrary winds at sea; and the severity of the season did not promise a more propitious voyage, in returning; it would be necessary for him and Mr. de Montemar to take leave of Morewick-hall the following morning."
The Baron's letter to Mr. Athelstone, told him that Louis must yield implicit deference to the arrangements of Castanos. And in reply to some remonstrance from the Pastor, for a less hasty departure, the Senor coldly observed—"That at Ostend, he and his charge were to meet instructions for proceeding: and should they arrive there a day later than the one fixed by the Baron, the consequence might be fatal to their safety. Indeed, that no appendage should encumber their progress, his Lord had commanded him to deny to Mr. de Montemar the indulgence of taking a servant from England."
Mr. Athelstone made many enquiries, to gather something of the object of so peremptory a summons; but he received no satisfaction from the secretary, who, with even morose brevity, continued to affirm his total ignorance of what was to follow the introduction of his charge to his new guardian. His own office went no further than to conduct Mr. de Montemar by a particular day to the continent: but who he was to meet there, or how he was to be employed, future events must explain. The frank-hearted Pastor, became uneasy at this mystery. And the more so, as from the secretary's hint, (which he appeared vext at having dropped) it seemed connected with danger. "Yet it is his father, who summons him into such circumstances!" said he to himself; "and surely I may trust a father's watchfulness over his only son!"
Louis's imagination had taken fire at what chilled the heart of his uncle. That there was a demand on his courage, in the proposed trial, swelled his youthful breast with exultation. He thought, as yet he had only tried his strength like a boy; in exercise, or in pastime. He wanted to grapple with danger, with the heart and the arm of a man; and for a cause that would sanctify the hazard of his life. "And to something like this," cried he mentally, "my father calls me! He calls me, as becomes the son of his race, to share the labours, the perils, of his glorious career! I am now to prove my claim to so noble a birth-right.—And I will prove it! O gracious Heaven, give me but to deserve honour of my father; and I ask no other blessing on this side of eternity!"
Mr. Athelstone saw that strong emotions were agitating the occupied mind of his nephew, and reading their import, in the lofty expressions of his countenance, he did not check their impulse, by recalling his attention to present objects; but proceeded in silence to open the packet from Santa Cruz: hoping that its contents might cast a light upon the destiny of Louis.
The letter was short: chiefly thanking the Pastor and his family, for their kindness to himself and his son during their visit at Lindisfarne. Writing of Ferdinand, he added that his health was materially improved, though his spirits were yet very unequal. To remedy these remains of his indisposition, he meant to engage himself in the expected hostilities between Austria and Spain, who were likely to quarrel on a question of maritime and commercial prerogative. The Marquis concluded his letter by saying, that he enclosed three packets from Don Ferdinand, as offerings of respect to the ladies of Lindisfarne.
Mr. Athelstone believed he had found a clew to the affair of danger, to which Louis was to be introduced. He did not doubt but that the Baron also meant to engage his son in the anticipated warfare between their Catholic and Cæsarian majesties. The halting at Ostend seemed to corroborate this surmise, as its new commercial company was the very dispute between the rival Powers. But still, the immediate peril which threatened any delay in arriving there remained as unexplained as before.
When Louis perused the Marquis's letter, he also supposed he was called to a military life; and as that was the point to which he had most wistfully directed his glory-attracted eye, the intimation at once fixed his vague anticipations; and rising from his seat, while his thoughts glanced on Wharton's gay demand to write man upon his brow, he smiled on his uncle and said, "this is the Toga virilis that has ever been the object of my vows!"
"God grant," cried the Pastor, mournfully returning his playful smile, "that it may not be steeped in blood!"
"And if found in the bed of honour," replied Louis, "I should not rest the worse for it!"