"Indubitably. But you see, this was a chapel."
The laugh and the colour both grew more unequivocal Fleda could not help it.
"I beg your pardon, Sir I have not learned such nice distinctions. Perhaps a chapel was wanted just in that place."
"That is presumable. But he might be wanted somewhere else. However," said the gentleman, with a good-humoured smile "his uncle forgives him; and if his mother cannot influence him, I am afraid nobody else will. There is no help for it. And I should be very sorry to stand ill with him. I have given you the dark side of his character."
"What is the other side in the contrast?" said Fleda, wondering at herself for her daring.
"It is not for me to say," he answered, with a slight shrug of the shoulders and an amused glance at her; "I suppose it depends upon people's vision but if you will permit me, I will instance a bright spot that was shown to me the other day, that I confess, when I look at it, dazzles my eyes a little."
Fleda only bowed; she dared not speak again.
"There was a poor fellow the son of one of Mr. Carleton's old tenants down here at Enchapel who was under sentence of death, lying in prison at Carstairs. The father, I am told, is an excellent man, and a good tenant; the son had been a miserable scapegrace, and now for some crime I forget what had at last been brought to justice. The evidence against him was perfect, and the offence was not trifling; there was not the most remote chance of a pardon, but it seemed the poor wretch had been building up his dependence upon that hope, and was resting on it; and, consequently, was altogether indisposed and unfit to give his attention to the subjects that his situation rendered proper for him.
"The gentleman who gave me this story was requested by a brother clergyman to go with him to visit the prisoner. They found him quite stupid unmovable by all that could be urged, or rather, perhaps, the style of the address, as it was described to me, was fitted to confound find bewilder the man rather than enlighten him. In the midst of all this, Mr. Carleton came in he was just then on the wing for America, and he had heard of the poor creature's condition in a visit to his father. He came my informant said like a being of a different planet. He took the man's hand he was chained foot and wrist 'My poor friend,' he said, 'I have been thinking of you here, shut out from the light of the sun, and I thought you might like to see the face of a friend;' with that singular charm of manner which he knows how to adapt to everybody and every occasion. The man was melted at once at his feet, as it were he could do anything with him. Carleton began then, quietly, to set before him the links in the chain of evidence which had condemned him one by one in such a way as to prove to him, by degrees, but irresistibly, that he had no hope in this world. The man was perfectly subdued sat listening and looking into those powerful eyes that perhaps you know taking in all his words, and completely in his hand. And then Carleton went on to bring before him the considerations that he thought should affect him in such a case, in a way that this gentleman said was indescribably effective and winning; till that hardened creature was broken down sobbing like a child actually sobbing!"
Fleda did her best, but she was obliged to hide her face in her hands, let what would be thought of her.