“Free!” my lord repeated, looking the Doctor in the face. “I cannot but believe, sir, what you solemnly aver to be the truth. Yet what am I to think of this generosity? how interpret it? By what acts have I deserved it? What am I to do in return? Is there any pitfall or snare for me?”
“In return, you will grant her your forgiveness. That is a pitfall, if you please. You will also expect a surprise.”
“Strange!” said Lord Chudleigh. “Kitty asked me, too, to forgive this woman. My forgiveness! Does she ask for no money?”
“My lord, you are utterly deceived in your belief as to this woman and her conduct. By your leave I will tell you the exact truth.
“You know, because I told you, that the wrong inflicted upon me by your father was my justification, from a worldly point of view, for the advantage which I took of your condition. You think, I suppose, that some miserable drab was brought in from the market to play the part of dummy wife, and threaten you and persecute you for money. You are wrong.
“There was living in this place at the time, with a lady of ruined fortunes, a young woman of gentle birth (by her father’s side), though penniless. She was beautiful exceedingly, well educated, a God-fearing damsel, and a good girl. By her mother’s side she was my niece, that branch of her family being of obscure origin. On the death of her father she became for a time my ward, which was the reason why she lived here—no fit place for a girl of good reputation, I own, though at the time I could do no better for her. She was not only all that I have described her in appearance, carriage, and virtues, but she was, as well, very much afraid of me, her guardian. She had been brought up to obey without questioning her spiritual pastors and masters and all who might be placed in authority over her. This girl it was whom you married.”
The Doctor paused, to let his words have due effect.
“When I designed the treachery, you being then sound asleep, it first seemed to me that the fitting person for such a revenge as I at first proposed to myself would be one of those women who are confined to the Fleet for life, unless by hook or crook they can get them a husband. Such a one I sent for. I did not disclose the name of the man I proposed, because I found her only too eager to marry any one upon whom she could saddle her debts, and so make him either pay them or change places with her. But while I talked with the woman I thought how cruel a thing it would be for your lordship to be mated with such a wife, and I resolved, if I did give you a wife against your knowledge, that she should be worthy to bear your name. Accordingly I despatched this person, who is still, I suppose, languishing in the prison hard by, and sent for the young lady.
“She came unsuspiciously. I told her with a frown which made her tremble, that she was to obey me in all that I ordered her to do; and I bade her, then, take her place at the table, and repeat such words as I should command. She obeyed. Your lordship knows the rest.”
“But she knew—she must have known—that she was actually married?”