“So you may, sir,” replied Corbet, “and so you ought; but I say that if he is your son, he is also my grandson.”
“Corbet,” said his lordship, “you had better explain yourself. This, Sir Thomas, is a matter very disagreeable to me, and which I should not wish even to hear; but as it is possible that the interests of my dear friend here. Lady Gourlay, may be involved in it, I think it my duty not to go.”
“Her ladyship's interests are involved in it, my lord,” replied Corbet; “and you are right to stay, if it was only for her sake. Now, my lady,” he added, addressing her, “I see how you are sufferin', but I ask it as a favor that you will keep yourself quiet, and let me go on.”
“Proceed, then,” said Lord Cullamore; “and do you, Lady Gourlay, restrain your emotion, if you can.”
“Thomas Gourlay—I spake now to the father, my lord,” said Corbet.
“Sir Thomas Gourlay, sir!” said the baronet, haughtily and indignantly, “Sir Thomas Gourlay!”
“Thomas Gourlay,” persisted Corbet, “it is now nineteen years, or thereabouts, since you engaged me, myself—I am the man—to take away the son of your brother, and you know the ordhers you gave me. I did so: I got a mask, and took him away with me on the pretence of bringin' him to see a puppet-show. Well, he disappeared, and your mind, I suppose, was aisy. I tould you all was right, and every year from that to this you have paid me a pension of fifty pounds.”
“The man is mad, my lord,” said Sir Thomas; “and, under all circumstances, he makes himself out a villain.”
“I can perceive no evidence of madness, so far,” replied his lordship; “proceed.”
“None but a villain would have served your purposes; but if I was a villain, it wasn't to bear out your wishes, but to satisfy my own revenge.”