Livid with recent terror, and vexed with the loss of the fine animal at his feet, he cast a menacing glance at the lowering sky above, and bidding the ostler with an oath (which sounded like double blasphemy in our ears) to take care of the saddle and bridle, he entered the inn, shaking the mud and rain from his garments, and muttering indistinct curses on his ill-luck.
"The blasphemous wretch!" cried I, drawing a long breath. "Bad as the father is, he is an angel when compared with the son."
"Geoffrey, he is what the father has made him. I would give much to witness the meeting."
"You would see a frightful picture of human guilt and depravity. Half his fortune would scarcely bribe me to witness such a revolting scene."
The rain was now pouring in torrents, and one inky hue had overspread the whole heavens. Finding that we were likely to be detained some hours, George ordered dinner, and we determined to make ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would admit.
All our efforts to provoke mirth, however, proved abortive. The silence of our meal was alone broken by the dull clattering of knives and forks, and the tinkling of the bell to summon the brisk waiter to bring wine and draw the cloth. But if we were silent, an active spirit was abroad in the house, and voices in loud and vehement altercation in the room adjoining, arrested our attention.
The muttered curse, the restless, impatient walking to and fro, convinced us that the parties were no other than Robert Moncton and his son, and that their meeting was not likely to have a very amicable termination. At length, the voice of my uncle in a terrible state of excitement, burst forth with this awful sentence:
"I discard you, sir! From this day you cease to be my son. Go, and take my curse along with you! Go to ——! and may we never meet in time or eternity again."
With a bitter, sneering laugh the disinherited replied: "In heaven we shall never meet; on earth, perhaps, we may meet too soon. In the place to which you have so unceremoniously sent me, I can perceive some lingering remains of paternal affection—that where you are, I may be also."
"Hold your tongue, sir. Dare you to bandy words with me?"