CHAPTER XLII
THE THIRD AND THE FOURTH CONFEDERATE
The voice of the third confederate followed. It was a voice from the tomb. Sir Harry Malyns, the poor old butterfly who had lived for nigh upon eighty years in the world of fashion; who had spent his patrimony, and had, in the end, been reduced to the miserable work of a decoy, as you have heard, was at last summoned to render an account of his life. What an account to render! So many thousand nights at the gaming-table; so many thousand at suppers and after; so many debauches; so many days of idle talk; the whole of his long life devoted to the pursuit of pleasure, as the people of fashion call pleasure. However, the old man was at last seized with a mortal illness; at the approach of death some of the scales fell from his eyes; his former ideas of honour came back to him. He repented of his degradation as the secret servant of Lord Fylingdale; he repented of his share in the deception which led to the promise, if not the performance, of marriage between his patron and Miss Molly.
And he dictated to some one, who attended him in his last moments, a brief note which was accepted in the spirit of forgiveness, which he desired.
The communication was addressed to Captain Crowle. "The following words," it was written, "were in substance dictated by the late Sir Harry Malyns in his last illness, namely, the day before he became unconscious, in which condition he lingered for forty-eight hours, when he breathed his last."
There was neither signature, nor was the place of the deceased gentleman's last illness indicated. The following were the words dictated:
"I, Sir Harry Malyns, baronet, being now, I believe, at the point of death, am greatly troubled in my conscience over the part I played in the deception of Captain Crowle, of King's Lynn; his ward, Miss Molly; and the people of the place, as to the character and principles of the Earl of Fylingdale. I very soon discovered his design in going to the town, and his hopes of securing the fortune of the lady called the heiress of Lynn. My own part, to deceive his friends in the way indicated, I performed with zeal, being but the creature and servant of his lordship, with no hope of help from any other quarter, should I lose his patronage. It was a most dishonourable part to play, unworthy of my name and of my family. I desire to convey to the young lady my humble request for her forgiveness, and my hope that a way may be found for her out of the toils spread for her by myself and others, his creatures and servants.
"There is, I learn, a denial on the lady's part as to her marriage at all. Of this I know nothing. But I am assured in my own mind that if this denial involves any act of treachery, perfidy, fraud, or conspiracy on the part of his lordship, on that account alone, and without considering the many virtues, the candour, truth, and innocence of the lady, I should accept her denial. But in this crowning act of treachery, I rejoice that I have had neither part nor lot."
There was no signature, but there seemed no reason to entertain a doubt as to the genuine character of the communication. The old man on his deathbed returned to a late recognition of the laws of honour and a late repentance.
"He was a poor creature," said the vicar. "He was entirely made up of stays and wig and powder. He ought to have been taken about the country in order to show the world the true meaning of a fribble and a beau. It is, however, something to his credit that in the end he remembered the old tradition, and saw himself as he was. Pray Heaven that his repentance was thorough!"