Fillmore gazed at his guest several moments in silence. At length he said: “I will adopt the hypothetical vein, since you prefer it. We will suppose that Grantley is alive and in London, and that his daughter finds it out, and seeks or grants an interview with him. What would be the nature of the inconvenience that would cause you?”
“But surely, my dear Fillmore,” cried the baronet, “you cannot fail to see how awkwardly I should be placed! The man, of course, would have some plausible story or other to tell her. She would believe him and would plead his cause with me. What could I do? To deliver him up to justice would be as much of a hardship and more of a disgrace to me than to him, not to speak of the extremely painful position in which it would place her. Matters would be raked up which were far better left in merciful oblivion. Were I, on the other hand, to allow him to establish himself amongst us, under the assumed name which he would probably have adopted, he would presume upon my tolerance and become an impracticable nuisance. Having once accepted him I should never afterward be able to rid myself of him; he would make himself an actual incubus. The thing would be unendurable either way.”
“It will simplify this affair, Bendibow,” said the lawyer slowly, “if you inform me whether Charles Grantley is in London or not.”
Sir Francis, who looked a good deal flushed and overwrought, tossed off another glass of wine by way of tranquilizing his nerves, and said, “Of course, my dear fellow, I might confide in your discretion. You understand my dilemma ... my object is to prevent—”
“Come, Bendibow, answer my question, or let us change the subject.”
For a moment it seemed probable that the baronet would give vent to the spleen which was doubtless grilling within him; but the moment passed, and he answered rather sullenly, “ ’Tis not likely that I should have been at the pains to prolong this interview had I not good reason to believe that he is in this neighborhood. In fact, the fellow had the audacity to call on me at the bank the other day and introduce himself under the name of Grant.”
“Is he in needy circumstances?”
“No—not as far as I know,” said Sir Francis, wiping his face with his handkerchief. “In fact, now I think of it, the clerk gave me to understand that he had deposited a certain sum in the bank.”
“Did he express an intimation of visiting his daughter?”
“He inquired about her. Of course I did not inform him of her whereabouts; I was but an hour before made acquainted with them myself. The assurance of the man passes belief.”