CHAPTER XXI.
FAIR ARGUMENTS.
As Mollett left the house he saw two men walking down the roadaway from the sweep before the hall door, and as he passed them herecognised one as the young gentleman of the house. He also saw thata horse followed behind them, on the grass by the roadside, not ledby the hand, but following with the reins laid loose upon his neck.They took no notice of him or his car, but allowed him to pass asthough he had no concern whatever with the destinies of either ofthem. They were Herbert and Owen Fitzgerald.
The reader will perhaps remember the way in which Owen left DesmondCourt on the occasion of his last visit there. It cannot be saidthat what he had heard had in any way humbled him, nor indeed had ittaught him to think that Clara Desmond looked at him altogether withindifference. Greatly as she had injured him, he could not bringhimself to look upon her as the chief sinner. It was Lady Desmond whohad done it all. It was she who had turned against him because of hispoverty, who had sold her daughter to his rich cousin, and robbedhim of the love which he had won for himself. Or perhaps not ofthe love--it might be that this was yet his; and if so, was it notpossible that he might beat the countess at her own weapons? Thinkingover this, he felt that it was necessary for him to do something, totake some step; and therefore he resolved to go boldly to his cousin,and tell him that he regarded Lady Clara Desmond as still his own.
On this morning, therefore, he had ridden up to the Castle Richmonddoor. It was now many months since he had been there, and he wasno longer entitled to enter the house on the acknowledged intimatefooting of a cousin. He rode up, and asked the servant with graveceremony whether Mr. Herbert Fitzgerald were at home. He would not goin, he said, but if Mr. Herbert were there he would wait for him atthe porch. Herbert at the time was standing in the dining-room, allalone, gloomily leaning against the mantelpiece. There was nothingfor him to do during the whole of that day but wait for the evening,when the promised revelation would be made to him. He knew thatMollett and Mrs. Jones were with Mr. Prendergast in the study, butwhat was the matter now being investigated between them--that he didnot know. And till he knew that, closely as he was himself concerned,he could meddle with nothing. But it was already past noon and theevening would soon be there.
In this mood he was interrupted by being told that his cousin Owenwas at the door. "He won't come in at all, Mr. Herbert," Richardhad said; for Richard, according to order, was still waiting aboutthe porch; "but he says that you are to go to him there." And thenHerbert, after considering the matter for a moment, joined his cousinat the front entrance.
"I want to speak to you a few words," said Owen; "but as I hear thatSir Thomas is not well, I will not go into the house; perhaps youwill walk with me as far as the lodge. Never mind the mare, she willnot go astray." And so Herbert got his hat and accompanied him. Forthe first hundred yards neither of them said anything. Owen would notspeak of Clara till he was well out of hearing from the house, andat the present moment Herbert had not much inclination to commence aconversation on any subject.
Owen was the first to speak. "Herbert," said he, "I have been toldthat you are engaged to marry Lady Clara Desmond."
"And so I am," said Herbert, feeling very little inclined to admitof any question as to his privilege in that respect. Things werehappening around him which might have--Heaven only knows whatconsequence. He did fear--fear with a terrible dread that somethingmight occur which would shatter the cup of his happiness, and rob himof the fruition of his hopes. But nothing had occurred as yet. "Andso I am," he said; "it is no wonder that you should have heard it,for it has been kept no secret. And I also have heard of your visitto Desmond Court. It might have been as well, I think, if you hadstayed away."
"I thought differently," said Owen, frowning blackly. "I thought thatthe most straightforward thing for me was to go there openly, havingannounced my intention, and tell them both, mother and daughter,that I hold myself as engaged to Lady Clara, and that I hold her asengaged to me."
"That is absurd nonsense. She cannot be engaged to two persons."
"Anything that interferes with you, you will of course think absurd.I think otherwise. It is hardly more than twelve months since she andI were walking there together, and then she promised me her love. Ihad known her long and well, when you had hardly seen her. I knew herand loved her; and what is more, she loved me. Remember, it is not Ionly that say so. She said it herself, and swore that nothing shouldchange her. I do not believe that anything has changed her."
"Do you mean to say that at present she cares nothing for me? Owen,you must be mad on this matter."
"Mad; yes, of course; if I think that any girl can care for me whileyou are in the way. Strange as it may appear, I am as mad even asthat. There are people who will not sell themselves even for moneyand titles. I say again, that I do not believe her to be changed.She has been weak, and her mother has persuaded her. To her mother,rank and money, titles and property, are everything. She has soldher daughter, and I have come to ask you, whether, under suchcircumstances, you intend to accept the purchase."
In his ordinary mood Herbert Fitzgerald was by no means a quarrelsomeman. Indeed we may go further than that, and say that he was verymuch the reverse. His mind was argumentative rather than impulsive,and in all matters he was readier to persuade than overcome. But hisordinary nature had been changed. It was quite new with him to benervous and fretful, but he was so at the present moment. He wasdeeply concerned in the circumstances around him, but yet had beenallowed no voice in them. In this affair that was so peculiarly hisown,--this of his promised bride, he was determined that no voiceshould be heard but his own; and now, contrary to his wont, he wasready enough to quarrel with his cousin.
Of Owen we may say, that he was a man prone to fighting of all sorts,and on all occasions. By fighting I do not mean the old-fashionedresource of putting an end to fighting by the aid of two pistols,which were harmless in nineteen cases out of twenty. In saying thatOwen Fitzgerald was prone to fight, I do not allude to fighting ofthat sort; I mean that he was impulsive, and ever anxious to contendand conquer. To yield was to him ignoble, even though he might knowthat he was yielding to the right. To strive for mastery was tohim noble, even though he strove against those who had a right torule, and strove on behalf of the wrong. Such was the nature of hismind and spirit; and this nature had impelled him to his presententerprise at Castle Richmond. But he had gone thither with anunwonted resolve not to be passionate. He had, he had said tohimself, right on his side, and he had purposed to argue it outfairly with his more cold-blooded cousin. The reader may probablyguess the result of these fair arguments on such a subject. "And Ihave come to ask you," he said, "whether under such circumstances youintend to accept the purchase?"
"I will not allow you to speak of Lady Desmond in such language; norof her daughter," said Herbert, angrily.
"Ah! but, Herbert, you must allow me; I have been ill used in thismatter, and I have a right to make myself heard."
"Is it I that have ill used you? I did not know before that gentlemenmade loud complaints of such ill usage from the hands of ladies."
"If the ill usage, as you please to call it--"
"It is your own word."
"Very well. If this ill usage came from Clara Desmond herself, Ishould be the last person to complain of it; and you would be thelast person to whom I should make complaint. But I feel sure that itis not so. She is acting under the influence of her mother, who hasfrightened her into this thing which she is doing. I do not believethat she is false herself."
"I am sure that she is not false. We are quite agreed there, but itis not likely that we should agree further. To tell you the truthfrankly I think you are ill-judged to speak to me on such a topic."
"Perhaps in that respect you will allow me to think for myself. But Ihave not yet said that which I came to say. My belief is that unfairand improper restraint is put upon Clara Desmond, that she has beeninduced by her mother to accept your offer in opposition to herown wi
shes, and that therefore it is my duty to look upon her asstill betrothed to me. I do so regard her, and shall act under suchconviction. The first thing that I do therefore is to call upon youto relinquish your claim."
"What, to give her up?"
"Yes, to give her up;--to acknowledge that you cannot honestly callupon her to fulfil her pledge to you."
"The man must be raving," Herbert said.
"Very probably; but remember this, it may be that he will rave tosome purpose, when such insolence will be but of little avail to you.Raving! Yes, I suppose that a man poor as I am must be mad indeed toset his heart upon anything that you may choose to fancy."
"All that is nonsense; Owen, I ask for nothing but my own. I won herlove fairly, and I mean to keep it firmly."
"You may possibly have won her hand, but never her heart. You arerich, and it may be that even she will condescend to barter her hand;but I doubt it; I altogether doubt it. It is her mother's doing, asit was plain enough for me to see the other day at Desmond Court; butmuch as she may fear her mother, I cannot think that she will go tothe altar with a lie in her mouth."
And then they walked on in silence for a few yards. Herbert wasanxious to get back to the house, and was by no means desirous ofcontinuing this conversation with his cousin. He at any rate couldget nothing by talking about Lady Clara Desmond to Owen Fitzgerald.He stopped therefore on the path, and said, that if Owen had nothingfurther to say, he, Herbert, would go back to the house.
"Nothing further! Nothing further, if you understand me; but youdo not. You are not honest enough in this matter to understand anypurpose but your own."
"I tell you what, Owen: I did not come out here to hear myselfabused; and I will not stand it. According to my idea you had noright whatever to speak to me about Lady Clara Desmond. But you aremy cousin; and therefore I have borne it. It may be as well that weshould both understand that it is once for all. I will not listen toyou again on the same subject."
"Oh, you won't. Upon my word you are a very great man! You will tellme next, I suppose, that this is your demesne, and will warn me off!"
"Even if I did that, I should not be wrong, under such provocation."
"Very well, sir; then I will go off. But remember this, HerbertFitzgerald, you shall live to rue the day when you treated me withsuch insolence. And remember this also, Clara Desmond is not yourwife as yet. Everything now seems happy with you, and fortunate; youhave wealth and a fine house, and a family round you, while I amthere all alone, left like a dog, as far as my own relatives areconcerned. But yet it may come to pass that the Earl of Desmond'sdaughter will prefer my hand to yours, and my house to your house.They who mount high may chance to get a fall." And then, havinguttered this caution, he turned to his mare, and putting his handupon the saddle, jumped into his seat, and pressing her into agallop, darted off across the grass.
He had not meant anything specially by his threat; but his heart wassore within him. During some weeks past, he had become sick of thelife that he was leading. He had begun to hate his own solitaryhouse--his house that was either solitary, or filled with riot andnoise. He sighed for the quiet hours that were once his at DesmondCourt, and the privilege of constant entrance there, which was nowdenied him. His cousin Herbert had everything at his command--wealth,station, family ties, society, and all the consideration of highplace. Every blessing was at the feet of the young heir; but everyblessing was not enough, unless Clara Desmond was also added. Allthis seemed so cruel to him, as he sat alone in his parlour at HapHouse, meditating on his future course of life! And then he wouldthink of Clara's promise, of her assurance that nothing shouldfrighten her from her pledge. He thought of this as though the wordshad been spoken to him only yesterday. He pondered over these thingstill he hated his cousin Herbert; and hating him, he vowed that ClaraDesmond should not be his wife. "Is he to have everything?" he wouldsay to himself. "No, by heavens! not everything. He has enough, andmay be contented; but he shall not have all." And now, with similarthoughts running through his mind, he rode back to Hap House.
And Herbert turned back to Castle Richmond. As he approached thefront door, he met Mr. Prendergast, who was leaving the house; butthey had no conversation with each other. Herbert was in hopes thathe might now, at once, be put out of suspense. Mollett was gone; andwould it not be better that the tale should be told? But it was clearthat Mr. Prendergast had no intention of lessening by an hour theinterval he had given himself. He merely muttered a few words passingon, and Herbert went into the house.
And then there was another long, tedious, dull afternoon. Herbert satwith his sisters, but they had not the heart to talk to each other.At about four a note was brought to him. It was from Mr. Prendergast,begging Herbert to meet him in Sir Thomas's study at eight. SirThomas had not been there during the day; and now did not intend toleave his own room. They dined at half-past six; and the appointmentwas therefore to take place almost immediately after dinner.
"Tell Mr. Prendergast that I will be there," he said to the servant.And so that afternoon passed away, and the dinner also, very slowlyand very sadly.
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