“To mine?—oh, of course to mine; to be sure, to mine and my daughter’s. You forgot her, did you not, Mr. Vivian?” he asked with a sneer.
“No, sir,” replied Hal, emphatically. “Miss Wilton was my first consideration in performing the duty I undertook.”
“Ah! to be sure; I had forgotten that,” said the old man, in the same jibing tone. “I ought to remember that you were not wholly disinterested in the part you have played.”
“Sir!” exclaimed Vivian, with dignity; “you would only do me justice if you were to charge me with being deeply interested in what I have performed; but, at the same time, I hope you will acquit me of being selfishly so. I hold the happiness of Miss Wilton, and the honour of yourself and house at too high a value to permit it to be shattered and degraded by so debased and so unworthy a scoundrel as the person who, guarded by officers, has so recently been conveyed hence. But do not misunderstand me, sir. I build up no claim to your consideration in what I have done; I ask for no acknowledgment or elevation to your favour in saving yourself and daughter from the machinations of an infamous schemer. Your good-will I will accept only when it is the offspring of your free inclination; I have not sought, nor would I ever seek, to purchase it at any other price. I love Miss Wilton, sir, I candidly admit—-most devotedly love her, and shall do so while I have life—but I never have, I never desired, and never would attempt to crawl by stealth or by any secret or unworthy agency into an alliance with her. I hold her in too high respect, and possess, sir, a too well-defined consciousness of what is due to my own honour, to be guilty of acts which bring their own punishment with them. Your unprincipled friend, Colonel Mires, did not scruple, while charging me with a basely underhand attempt to win your daughter’s affections, to arrange, and carry almost to fulfilment, a devilish scheme, which, if successful, would, while it utterly destroyed the happiness of your child, have ruined the plans you had formed and looked forward to complete. Then, he whom you had selected for the distinguished honour and inestimable happiness of receiving your daughter’s hand, is a worthless, depraved and penniless swindler. Sir, at least the very strictest and closest scrutiny into my nature and habits will absolve me from being capable of the baseness of the one, or guilty of the depravity of the other. It has been my great good fortune to rescue you in both instances; on the one hand from the agony of a shameful bereavement; on the other, from an awakening to a knowledge of the infamy brought upon your name, and the misery entailed upon your daughter by an alliance which henceforward the thought of having ever desired to contract will make your cheek burn with vexed mortification. In having performed this office, I hope to be understood as not having been influenced by one selfish thought, but animated only by a desire to guard and protect Miss Wilton from dangers she could scarcely avert from herself, and your name from the obloquy which would have fallen upon it. In achieving this I have been most importantly aided by Mr. Nathan Gomer, and to him your acknowledgments are due for the share he has taken in obtaining success. For myself, as I have said, I ignore them; and when I come forward, as I hope at no distant day to do, and ask of you your consent to sanction my union with your daughter, I trust, sir, you will then do me the justice to admit that while, in respect to income, I am not unjustified in preferring a claim, that I have not resorted at any time, or under any influences, to surreptitiously obtain that which you are free to give or to withhold.”
“Um! you admit that?” exclaimed Wilton, who had listened attentively to all that fell from his lips, and caught at the last expression.
“I can conscientiously acquit myself of having at any time attempted to subvert that right,” returned Vivian.
Old Wilton drew along breath, and then covered his face with his hands, in which attitude he sat for a few minutes, evidently plunged in a profound reverie.
Both Flora and Hal watched him attentively and anxiously; at length he raised his head, and, addressing Hal, he said—
“I cannot conceal from myself that I am indebted to you for my life; I am equally conscious that I must look upon you as the saviour of my daughter’s life and honour. They are heavy debts, and very difficult to repay”——
“Spare me acknowledgments, I beg of you,” interrupted Hal, a little impetuously. “I have told you, sir, already, that I neither desire nor claim them; and I most earnestly assure you, that the only reward I looked for I have reaped—my grateful satisfaction at having been successful.”