His equanimity, however, was gone; and, whether it arose from his late attack of fever, or from the air of Paris in the first days of November, or from disappointment and vexation, I can not tell; but certain it is, he viewed every thing on the darkest side, and began to revolve the prospect of losing Blanche Delaware forever, just at the moment that he had found new hopes of having her heart in his favor.
The consolatory process of dining did nothing for him; and, as seven o'clock chimed on the third day, the whole array of dinner was removed, the courier stationed as before in the ante-room, with strict orders given to admit no one but the person described; and, as soon as he was admitted, to retire, and leave his master, and the stranger alone. Eight o'clock came, Beauchamp ordered coffee, and took a book; but, though he gazed with an involuntary smile upon the grotesque drawings stitched into the _Roi de Boheme_, no word could he read of the letter-press. He tried the eloquent nonsense of Chateaubriand, but it was as unpalatable as the satirical nonsense of Nodier; and, casting away the books, he gave the matter up in despair, abandoning himself to the contemplation of the pictures in the wood fire.
At length the door of the ante-room was heard to open, and the voice of some one speaking to the courier reached Beauchamp's ear; but the door shut again, the intruder descended the stairs, and all was silent once more. The moment after, however, the same sounds were repeated; the door of the saloon also was thrown wide by the servant, who uttered, at the same time, the pleasant words of, "Here is the gentleman you expected, sir!"
Beauchamp started up as the visitor entered; but what was his surprise to see--not the features of Captain Delaware, but those of Walter Harrison, or Sailor Wat, as he had been called at Emberton, and who was certainly too nearly connected with one part at least of his long and hitherto unsuccessful search to be beheld without emotion. Beauchamp and the young sailor gazed at each other for a moment without speaking; and even the courier--doubtful, from the astonishment evident in his master's countenance, whether he had admitted the right person--stood at the door for a moment, and stared at them both in turn.
He soon received a sign, however, to depart; and, closing the door, he left Beauchamp and the sailor alone.
"This is a strange visit, certainly!" said Beauchamp, flinging himself into a chair, and gazing in some perplexity upon the countenance of Wat Harrison, which was pale, worn, and haggard, in a frightful degree. "This is a strange visit enough, certainly!"
"You have sought me, Mr. Burrel," said the young sailor, in a tone of calm determination; "and now you seem surprised to see me! What is the meaning of this?"
"I have certainly sought you, sir," said Beauchamp, not yet having caught the right end of the clew; "but, most assuredly, I little thought you would present yourself uncompelled--are you aware that this visit is dangerous to you?"
"Not a whit!" said Wat Harrison, boldly; "and I do not care a d--n if it were; but I say, not a whit! You are not a man, sir, to ask me here in order to betray me. I knew that well enough before I came."
Beauchamp now, for the first time, perceived the mistake. The young sailor, well dressed, and offering the external appearance of a gentleman, had gained that appellation from the jeweler, the mind of whose hearer, already filled with idea of Captain Delaware, had at once become impressed with the notion that the person described was no other than that officer. The height and the fair complexion had aided the rest of the circumstances; and Beauchamp now found that he had invited the visit of one of the murderers of the unhappy miser of Ryebury, in such a manner as to preclude him from taking advantage of his coming, to cause his apprehension. He hesitated, indeed, for he felt that perhaps the duty of bringing the culprit to justice should be paramount; but the word honor, so often falsely construed, was so even with Beauchamp, and he could not bring himself to do that which his conscience told him he ought to do. Although the contest between reason and prejudice was severe, yet he was not long in forming his determination; and rising again, after a moment's thought, he said, "Young man, your coming here has originated in a mistake. From the description given by the person who sent you, I thought he spoke of Captain Delaware, when he really alluded to yourself; but as the mistake was mine, not yours, I will not take advantage of it to give you up to justice. Nevertheless, remember that I am not ignorant of your crime; and that, although I suffer you to depart from this house, and will give you time to seek your place of concealment, yet I hold myself bound to give notice to the Parisian police--who have orders from the government to aid in arresting you and your accomplices--that you are within the walls of Paris, and that, therefore, if you escape, it is their fault."