There was a truth and a pathetic sound in the utterance of these words, that struck Rushbrook to the heart—and he beheld himself as a barbarian, who had treated his benevolent and only friend, with insufferable liberty; void of respect for those corroding sorrows which had imbittered so many years of his life, and in open violation of his most peremptory commands. He felt that he deserved all he was going to suffer, and he fell upon his knees; not so much to deprecate the doom he saw impending, as thus humbly to acknowledge, it was his due.
Lord Elmwood, irritated by this posture, as a sign of the presumptuous hope that he might be forgiven, suffered now his anger to burst all bounds; and raising his voice, he exclaimed in a rage,
“Leave my house, Sir. Leave my house instantly, and seek some other home.”
Just as these words were begun, Sandford opened the library door, was witness to them, and to the imploring situation of Rushbrook. He stood silent with amazement!
Rushbrook arose, and feeling in his mind a presage, that he might never from that hour, behold his benefactor more; as he bowed in token of obedience to his commands, a shower of tears covered his face; but Lord Elmwood, unmoved, fixed his eyes upon him, which pursued him with enraged looks to the end of the room. Here he had to pass Sandford; who, for the first time in his life, took hold of him by the hand, and said to Lord Elmwood, “My Lord, what’s the matter?”
“That ungrateful villain,” cried he, “has dared to insult me.—Leave my house this moment, Sir.”
Rushbrook made an effort to go, but Sandford still held his hand; and meekly said to Lord Elmwood,
“He is but a boy, my Lord, and do not give him the punishment of a man.”
Rushbrook now snatched his hand from Sandford’s, and threw it with himself upon his neck; where he indeed sobbed like a boy.
“You are both in league,” exclaimed Lord Elmwood.