When Sir John Manvers found that his wife had actually stood face to face with his first-born son, he felt the reality of the secret buried in the old Cornish church.
The departure for Scotland was delayed for some days. He spent many hours in his library, affecting to be engaged in business with his agent; but oh! the tortures he suffered! Now he would go to Nina, and confess all. He opened the door; a merry voice echoed from the stairs, his boy Gerard came bounding down, crying “Papa, papa.” Sir John closed the door abruptly; the boy cast his whip upon the ground and sat down weeping on the mat. He had never been denied admittance before; but his father’s countenance had frightened him; he dared not lift his hand to the lock, but he did not move; he sat there sobbing as if his little heart would break.
And the father sat within; he had no tears, but his youngest son’s honest sobs struck to his heart.
He heard his wife come down the staircase; he heard her carry off the weeping Gerard. The child went sobbing up the stairs on its mother’s shoulder, and Sir John felt that she would not intrude upon his privacy at a juncture when old associations were so seriously revived.
Ah! how could that pure-minded, high-souled woman understand or believe in his remorse?
Remorse without repentance!
Sir John Manvers easily taught his amiable wife to believe that she having succeeded in persuading him to adopt his son and provide for him, her mission was over; still Lady Manvers entreated that she might continue to interest herself in the boy, till he became accustomed to his new sphere of existence. She sought out an excellent clergyman at Clapham, who took a limited number of pupils; she candidly admitted the chief points in Jasper’s story, she anticipated for the good man much trouble and discouragement, she prepared him for the worst. He tried his best with the child, but he had not strength either of mind or body to cope with young Jasper.
The boy passed from one master to another, till a resolute man was found to take charge of him as a Westminster scholar, when he battled through life in Dean’s Yard, Westminster, for twelve months; headed a conspiracy against the assistant-masters, and would have been expelled, but that his “uncle,” as Sir John was reputed to be, had interest enough to withdraw him privately, and finally to get him a commission.
It was Jasper Lyle’s luck to be ordered at once to join his regiment in India. He opened his military career before a fortress which surrendered to the British arms. The banner planted on the battlements was a rag dripping with gore. The young ensign was mentioned honourably in general orders, and for a time the laurel wreath of fame acted as a talisman in checking evil principles; but ill weeds are hard to eradicate, and he would have been disgraced for debt; had debt in the army been disgraceful. Sir John found himself answerable for bills which his son had chosen to draw on his father’s bankers, and an angry correspondence took place, in which the baronet threatened to leave the young man to the consequences of his folly and dishonesty.