“Scarcely so,” rejoined Firebras. “Randulph shall have her, and shall also have the fortune you agreed to settle upon her.”
“I agreed to give her to the son of a man of fortune, and to make a settlement upon her correspondent with his property,” said the miser; “but this young man has nothing.”
“I have something to say on that head,” rejoined Firebras. “Randulph, you are aware, assigned his own life interest in the entailed property to his father’s creditors.”
“I know it, — I know it,” said the miser hastily; “more fool he for doing so.”
“But do you know who those creditors are?” said Firebras.
“No,” replied the miser; “do you?”
“I do,” replied Firebras, smiling significantly; “and I know, moreover, how the property might be recovered from them.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the miser, staring at him.
“What should you say if Randulph were again to be put in possession of his estates and three thousand a year?” pursued Firebras, “Would you then feel disposed to fulfil your engagement?”
“It would make a material difference, certainly,” said the miser, “but you are only saying this to try me.”
“No such thing,” rejoined Firebras. “I am perfectly serious. Now mark me, Mr. Scarve. A few thousand pounds will settle the matter with these creditors, and Randulph’s property will be unincumbered.”
“And you will advance these few thousand pounds for him, of course?” said the miser, drily.
“No; you will,” returned Firebras. “It will be your interest to do so.”
“Hum!” exclaimed the other.
“If he espouses your daughter, he must espouse the Jacobite cause, also,” pursued Firebras. “That we must both insist upon. His mother will be in town to-day, and we shall have her to back us.”
“You lay out your schemes very fairly,” said the miser; “but I am persuaded they will fall to the ground. Prove to me that Randulph can regain his property; and let me hear from his own lips an avowal that he will join our party, and I may then begin to think of giving my consent.”
“It shall be my business to do so,” replied Firebras. “And now, good morning. Most likely I may call again in the evening.” And putting on his hat, he took his departure, without summoning Jacob.
* * *
CHAPTER II.
Mrs. Crew — Her Solicitude about Her Son; and Her Conversation with Abel.
In the course of the afternoon, Randulph was transported to his uncle’s house at Lambeth. He was feverish and restless, and kept constantly inquiring after his mother, declaring he was sure she had arrived, but was kept out of sight. An opiate having been administered, he presently began to experience its effects, and sank into a profound slumber, from which he did not wake till late in the following day.
When he opened his eyes, he found the surgeon seated by his bedside feeling his pulse.
“You are wonderfully better, and wholly free from fever, sir,” said Mr. Molson; “and if you can promise me to keep all emotion under control, I think I may yield to the entreaties of one who is most anxious to see you.”
“My mother!” exclaimed Randulph. “Ah! admit her by all means. Her presence will calm, rather than excite me.”
“I am not quite so sure of that,” hesitated Molson; “however, I will risk it.”
And quitting the room, he returned the next moment and introduced Mrs. Crew, who uttered a slight cry, and would have rushed forward, but he detained her, whispering— “Remember your promise, madam. It was only on the understanding that you would maintain your composure that I allowed you to see him.”
Thus cautioned, Mrs. Crew softly approached the bed, and taking the hand which her son extended to her, pressed it to her lips. She said nothing, but her bosom heaved quickly, and Randulph felt that the hot tears were falling fast upon his hand.
“Do not distress yourself, dearest mother,” he said; “I am already so well that if this gentleman would allow me, I could get up.”
“Your son is doing exceedingly well, madam,” said Mr. Molson, significantly; “and if we pay him due attention, he may leave his bed in three or four days.”
Roused by this remark, Mrs. Crew looked up, and fixed a glance full of inexpressible tenderness and affection upon her son. Though her countenance bore traces of much sorrow and anxiety, she was still a very handsome woman, and had a tall, fine figure, full as became her years, yet not so full as to interfere with the gracefulness of its proportions. She was two years younger than Trussell, being just forty-four, and might have been thought much younger, but for the care-worn expression above-mentioned, which while it added age to her features, lent interest to them at the same time. Her lineaments strikingly resembled those of her son, but were more delicately formed, and her eyes were blue, large, and of the purest water. She was dressed in deep mourning, of simple material, and wore her own hair, originally of a bright and beautiful brown, but now mingled with grey.
Charms such as Mrs. Crew possessed, must, it is scarcely necessary to say, have won her many admirers, when they were at their best; and some four and twenty years ago she was sought on all hands, and had many brilliant alliances proposed to her; but her heart was early engaged to him to whom she was eventually united; and she continued true to his memory, for, though two of her old admirers found her out in her widowhood, and renewed the proposals made in the meridian of her attractions — and though both these offers were advantageous, while her own worldly circumstances, as has been shewn, were so much reduced as almost to justify a marriage of convenience, both were unhesitatingly rejected.
Mrs. Crew partook of the good qualities of both her brothers. She possessed the sound judgment and kindliness of Abel, without his asperity; and she had much of the good nature, without the worldliness of Trussell. Throughout the whole of her married life, her conduct had been most exemplary. Devotedly attached to her husband, she strove by the care which she paid to the management of the affairs entrusted to her, to make up in some degree for his extravagance, and though she was unable entirely to accomplish her object, she did much to retard his progress towards ruin. Mr. Crew was one of those persons who whatever their fortune, will live beyond it. Excellent-hearted and hospitable, he kept open house, a dozen hunters, twice as many servants, a pack of hounds, and was not overparticular in the choice of his associates. The consequence was that he speedily became embarrassed, and instead of retrenching, raised money in the readiest way he could, and lived harder and more recklessly than ever. He was fond of horse-racing and cock-fighting, and though by no means a gambler, frequently lost more at play than a prudent gentleman would care to lose. As Randulph grew up, he perceived the necessity of retrenchment, and for nearly a year, decidedly changed his mode of life. But he was not adapted by nature to follow up such a course with perseverance. Long before the fear was over, he began to find his plans of economy irksome, and at the end of it, launched into his old expenses. About this time, some designing persons got hold of him. Advances were made on most usurious terms, and he soon became inextricably involved. For the last two years of his life, he drank hard, discontinued most of the healthful exercises, to which he had been accustomed, seldom hunted, and amused himself chiefly with bowling. This fatal course soon begin to tell upon him. The infirmities of age came on before their time, and he died under fifty, with every appearance of an old man. On examination, his affairs were found frightfully embarrassed, and Randulph, who had just come of age, having stated his intentions to his father before his death, and obtained his mother’s assent to the arrangement, assigned the whole of the entailed property to the creditors, retaining only for himself what would barely afford him the means of living. Mrs. Crew, it has been stated, had a small separate property of her own, settled upon her by her father, at the time of her marriage; but between mother and son, they had not now in hundreds a year, what Mr. Crew had once had in thousands.
Throughout all the trying ci
rcumstances above-narrated, Mrs. Crew had conducted herself admirably. She never irritated her husband with reproaches, nor wearied him with advice, which her good sense told her would be unavailing; but assisted him as far as was in her power, and cheered him in his distresses, taking care not to let her own affliction be apparent. At no time, did she ever complain of him, even to her brothers. Indeed, she could not complain of ill treatment, for Mr. Crew was sincerely attached to her, and but for his imprudence they might have been as happy a couple as ever lived. The sweetness and amiability of her disposition was evinced on all occasions, but never so strongly as during the last two years of her husband’s life, when his debilitated constitution, and pressing cares, impaired his naturally good temper, and rendered him fretful, and impatient of trifles.
The tenderest attachment subsisted between Randulph and his mother. Having always treated him with confidence, he had no reserve from her, but regarded her in the light both of a parent and friend.
Mrs. Crew remained nearly an hour by her son’s bedside, gazing at him, and answering the questions he put to her about her journey and other matters, as briefly as possible; for, in compliance with the surgeon’s injunctions, she avoided anything like continuous discourse. At length, discerning some slight symptoms of fatigue about him, she pressed his hand softly, and quitted the room. On going down stairs, she proceeded to the library, where she found her brothers. Trussell anxiously inquired how she had left the patient.
“He is doing well, I believe,” she replied; “but oh! brother, what a meeting has this been! I trust it is the last duel he will ever be engaged in.”
“I think he has come off famously,” replied Trussell. “I called to inquire after Villiers last night, and I understand he is likely to be laid up for a fortnight at the least.”
“I am glad to hear it,” observed Abel; “and I wish from my heart that Randulph’s wound had been more severe.”
“Oh, brother! why such a wish as that?” exclaimed Mrs. Crew.
“Because I would have his first duel his last, sister,” said Abel. “I entirely disapprove of the practice of duelling, and think it utterly opposed to the religious principles we profess.”
“The duel is a necessity imposed upon society,” said Trussell, “and, in my opinion, never can be dispensed with, unless a total revolution takes place in our manners and habits. It is the only check that holds certain characters in restraint, and though the practice may be carried too far, and swords be drawn on trifling occasions, a great good is accomplished by the recognition and maintenance of a code of honour, to which all gentlemen must subscribe, and any infraction of which is fatal. Moralists may preach as they please, but as long as society is constituted as it is as present — as long as such men as Villiers exist — duelling must, and will prevail.”
“There are other modes of avenging an injury besides violence,” replied Abel; “and I trust society in some more enlightened age will fix such a brand upon the evil doer, that it shall be in itself sufficient punishment for his offence. As we are now circumstanced, it may be impossible for a gentleman to avoid a quarrel; but he should never voluntarily seek it.”
“I am bound to say, in Randulph’s justification,” rejoined Trussell, “since you both view the matter in so grave a light, and I say it advisedly, that he has acted throughout this affair as becomes a gentleman, and a man of honour. Such is the opinion of both his adversaries — and such is my own opinion. You have reason to be proud of him, Sophia.”
“I once thought so,” she replied, sadly.
“And believe me, he has done nothing to forfeit your good opinion,” rejoined Trussell; “but much that should raise it.”
“I am not alone annoyed at the duels,” said Abel; “but at the cause of them. It was my particular wish that Randulph should avoid Hilda Scarve — my expressed wish — and now he has been so circumstanced with her, that any feeling he might entertain towards her will be greatly strengthened. Trussell, you have laid up for your charge a great store of unhappiness. He will soon be cured of the wound he has received in this encounter, — but will his passion for Hilda be equally soon cured?”
“That is impossible to say,” replied Trussell; “some men easily get over a disappointment in love.”
“And others, never!” rejoined Abel, bitterly.
“I meant no allusion to you, sir,” cried Trussell, reddening; “none whatever.”
“Nor did I suspect you of doing so,” returned Abel; “but if Randulph loves sincerely, he will feel the blow to his dying day.”
“And if he does love sincerely, sir, why, oh! why, interfere between him and the object of his affections?” said Mrs. Crew.
“I do not interfere with him — God forbid I should do so!” said Abel. “Let him marry Hilda, if he will. Let him obtain her father’s consent, if he can.”
“But will you give your consent, sir?” cried Mrs. Crew.
“No;” replied Abel, emphatically, “I will not. I told him, when he first saw the girl, to avoid her on pain of my displeasure. He has disobeyed me, and must take the consequences. But what matters my consent? I will have nothing to do with the affair. I wash my hands of it altogether. I have my own reasons, which suffice to myself, for objecting to the union; but I will not be placed in a painful and ungracious position, and be compelled to oppose it. I will have nothing to do with it — nothing whatever.”
“Randulph will incur your displeasure if he marries Hilda, will he not?” said Mrs. Crew.
“Most assuredly,” replied Abel; “I will never see him or her again. I will not be pressed to assign a reason for this determination; nor will I say more than I have done. I wish him to be wholly uninfluenced by me. Neither will I have it said that I have interfered with his happiness.”
“And yet, believe me, it will be both said and felt so, brother,” rejoined Mrs. Crew, “Beware, lest you inflict a blow upon your nephew as severe as that you have endured yourself.”
Abel uttered a sharp cry and walked away while Trussell looked at his sister to intimate she had gone too far. She instantly arose, and going up to Abel, took his hand, nor did he withdraw it from her.
“Pardon me, brother,” she said, “if I have spoken what is painful to you; but I am anxious to spare you further affliction. I know, though you have tried to case it in armour of proof, how tender your heart is — how readily wounded. I have wept for your unhappy lot; and I would do all in my power to avert further distress from you. If, as I have reason to believe, Randulph is devotedly attached to Hilda Scarve, I am certain, from what I know of his disposition, that a disappointment in obtaining her will blight him for life, and I am sure it would only be increasing your own unhappiness, to feel that you had made him miserable.”
“But I do not make him miserable, sister!” cried Abel, sharply. “He is a free agent, and can marry whom he pleases, without my consent.”
“I have told you he never will do so, brother,” said Mrs. Crew. “His future happiness or misery rests with you.”
“Sophia, I will not endure this!” said Abel, sternly; “and I request the subject may never be mentioned again. I have no desire to wound your feelings, but the truth must not be hidden from you. Since his arrival in town, Randulph has exhibited such a turn for gaiety and dissipation, that I think it would be very unwise in him to marry at all — at least, at present.”
“If he cannot marry advantageously,” interposed Trussell, “I am clearly of Abel’s opinion. His tastes and habits are rather expensive.”
“Expensive,” exclaimed Mrs. Crew. “They were most moderate.”
“Then he has a slight taste for play,” pursued Trussell; “and is decidedly partial to society and amusement.”
“I’ll hurry him back into the country as soon as he is able to move!” cried Mrs. Crew, greatly alarmed.
“And you’ll do wisely,” said Abel.
“I don’t think he’ll go,” rejoined Trussell, laughing; “and if he does, he’ll soon find his way
back again. He is too fond of town to be long away from it.”
“Oh! how changed he must be!” exclaimed Mrs. Crew.
“He owes it all to his uncle Trussell,” rejoined Abel, sharply.
“Then he owes me a great deal,” replied Trussell; “and I hope he won’t forget the debt. I think the plan of hurrying him into the country quite wrong. If you wish Hilda to make a deep impression upon him, that will be the surest way to accomplish the object. In town, he has a thousand distractions. I cannot exactly say how he will stand with Lady Brabazon after this duel — but there is a Kitty Conway, and he is sure to have plenty of new entanglements.”
“Brother,” cried Mrs Crew— “you only furnish me with additional reasons for desiring to take him away.”
“I am very sorry he ever came,” said Abel; “it has disturbed the whole of my arrangements, and opened old wounds, which, though not closed, were yet not painful. Even Trussell has been unsettled by it.”
“Not in the least, sir,” replied Trussell. “I have enjoyed his visit amazingly; and should belie myself confoundedly if I said otherwise. I wish I could prevail upon you to let him remain here a few months longer, and give him another hundred or so — and then—”
“Plunge him back again into poverty!” cried Abel, cutting him short. “What would be the use of such a course? What good purpose would it answer? He has apparently no wish to embark in any profession. And why should I furnish him with the means of continuing his career of dissipation? No. I will do no such thing.”
“Will you see how he goes on for a month after his convalescence?” asked Trussell. “Surely, that is no great length of time to allow him.”
“I will promise nothing,” replied Abel. “And now, brother, I shall be glad to be left alone for a short time with Sophia.”
“Willingly, sir,” replied Trussell. And he quitted the room.
Abel then took a chair, and motioned his sister to seat herself beside him. For a few moments, he continued silent, as if summoning up resolution to address her. At length, he spoke.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 315