To this flattering speech the old man listened attentively, but made no answer.
"Your letter followed me to Chester," said Mr. Blount, after an interval. "I received it last night. He was in London when I saw him last; and my letter, telling him that you are still living, may not reach him, possibly, for some days. Thus, you see, you would have the start of him, if I may so describe it, without rudeness; and you are aware he has no confidence in you; and, certainly, if you will permit me to say so, he ought not to have any. I have a note of the number of the cheque; you can write a line saying that you have lost it, and requesting that payment may be stopped; and I will enclose it to Messrs. Dignum and Budget."
"There's pen and ink here; I'll do it this moment. I thought you had renounced me also; and I was going to write again to try you once more, before taking to the high road," he said, with dismal jocularity.
It wrung the pride of the young man sorely to write the note. But the bitter pill was swallowed; and he handed it, but with signs of suppressed anger, to Mr. Blount.
"That will answer perfectly," said the man in black.
"It enables you to stop that cheque by this post, without first seeing my uncle; and it relieves you," said the young man, with bitter and pitiless irony, "of the folly of acting in the most trifling matter upon my word of honour. It is certainly making the most of the situation. I have made one great slip—a crime, if you like——"
"Quite so, sir," acquiesced Mr. Blount, with melancholy politeness.
"Under great momentary temptation," continued the young man, "and without an idea of ultimately injuring any human being to the amount of a single farthing. I'm disowned; any one that pleases may safely spit in my face. I'm quite aware how I stand in this infernal pharisaical world."
Mr. Blount looked at him gravely, but made him no answer. The young gentleman did not want to quarrel with Mr. Blount just then. He could not afford it.
"I don't mean you, of course," he said; "you have been always only too much my friend. I am speaking of the world; you know, quite well, if this unlucky thing takes wind, and my uncle's conduct towards me is the very thing to set people talking and inquiring, I may as well take off my hat to you all, drink your healths in a glass of prussic acid, and try how a trip to some other world agrees with me."