“And do not you think,” said the old man more sternly, “that such inflictions as these would be more effectual in checking the vices of the higher orders, than a mere fine which is paid and forgotten, or which places vice in the same scale as a luxury?”
“Why, my good friend, you are a severe legislator; you seem to be angry with my young spark. But now, if your system should be adopted, the injured party would gain no redress; whereas now the wound is healed by heavy damages; and surely it is much better to receive a pecuniary compensation, than merely to have the satisfaction of knowing that the offender is personally punished.”
“Excuse me, sir, but you are not speaking according to your own judgment. You must know that the professed end of the law is security from injury. Substitute a pecuniary compensation for the punishment now denounced against murder, and whose life is safe?”
“You are angry, my friend, you are angry. You should not bear malice; I will take care and see you righted; my cousin shall not have it said of him that he oppresses the poor.”
“Then, perhaps, sir, you will so far befriend me as that I may not be turned out of my cottage; for lawyer Price told me that I should be sent off as soon as the damages were paid.”
At this request of the poor man, or rather at the occasion for the request, Mr. Martindale was really vexed and angry. He had tolerated many of his cousin’s vices under the name of youthful follies; but when he found him guilty of the meanness of so despicable a species of revenge, he was deeply mortified, and with great emotion replied: “The very day that you are driven out of the cottage, Philip shall leave the Abbey.”
Having said this, he hurried home to his guests in no enviable frame of mind. Mr. Denver was accustomed to the old gentleman’s peculiarities; but Horatio Markham, who had never known, and who scarcely apprehended what it was to be dependent on another’s caprices, felt uneasy and constrained, and was beginning to wish that he could, consistently with common politeness, reduce his visit to a day, instead of a week or ten days. He was however soon relieved from his temporary uneasiness, by the return of good humour to the tone and countenance of his host, who proposed that, before visiting the Abbey, they should call at old Richard’s cottage, and inquire into his circumstances.