"See what, young gentleman?" asked the other.
"See, that rather than trade upon this secret of Amory's," Arthur cried out, "I would go and join my father-in-law at the hulks! See, that rather than take a seat in Parliament as a bribe from Clavering for silence, I would take the spoons off the table! See, that you have given me a felon's daughter for a wife; doomed me to poverty and shame; cursed my career when it might have been—when it might have been so different but for you! Don't you see that we have been playing a guilty game, and have been over-reached; that in offering to marry this poor girl, for the sake of her money, and the advancement she would bring, I was degrading myself, and prostituting my honor?"
"What in Heaven's name do you mean, sir?" cried the old man.
"I mean to say that there is a measure of baseness which I can't pass," Arthur said. "I have no other words for it, and am sorry if they hurt you. I have felt, for months past, that my conduct in this affair has been wicked, sordid, and worldly. I am rightly punished by the event, and having sold myself for money and a seat in Parliament, by losing both."
"How do you mean that you lose either?" shrieked the old gentleman.
"Who the devil's to take your fortune or your seat away from you. By
G—, Clavering shall give 'em to you. You shall have every shilling
of eighty thousand pounds."
"I'll keep my promise to Miss Amory, sir," said Arthur.
"And, begad, her parents shall keep theirs to you."
"Not so, please God," Arthur answered. "I have sinned, but, Heaven help me, I will sin no more. I will let Clavering off from that bargain which was made without my knowledge. I will take no money with Blanche but that which was originally settled upon her; and I will try to make her happy. You have done it. You have brought this on me, sir. But you knew no better: and I forgive—"
"Arthur—in God's name—in your father's, who, by Heavens, was the proudest man alive, and had the honor of the family always at heart—in mine—for the sake of a poor broken down old fellow, who has always been dev'lish fond of you—don't fling this chance away—I pray you, I beg you, I implore you, my dear, dear boy, don't fling this chance away. It's the making of you. You're sure to get on. You'll be a baronet; it's three thousand a year: dammy, on my knees, there, I beg of you, don't do this."
And the old man actually sank down on his knees, and seizing one of Arthur's hands, looked up piteously at him. It was cruel to remark the shaking hands, the wrinkled and quivering face, the old eyes weeping and winking, the broken voice. "Ah, sir," said Arthur, with a groan. "You have brought pain enough on me, spare me this. You have wished me to marry Blanche. I marry her. For God's sake, sir, rise, I can't bear it."