Part 27 (1/2)
”Nay, Timothy, that remark is hardly fair; you know that the subject is ever in my thoughts.”
”In your thoughts, I grant, very frequently; but you have still been led away from the search.”
”I grant it, but I presume that arises from not knowing how to proceed.
I have a skein to unravel, and cannot find out an end to commence with.”
”I always thought people commenced with the beginning,” replied Tim, laughing.
”At all events, I will now try back, and face the old lawyer. Do you call at Coleman Street, Tim, and at Saint Bridget's also, if you please.”
”As for Saint Bridget's, I'm in no particular hurry about my mother; if I stumble upon her I may pick her up, but I never make diligent search after what, in every probability, will not be worth the finding.”
Leaving Timothy to go his way, I walked to the house at Lincoln's Inn, which I had before entered upon the memorable occasion of the papers of Estcourt. As before, I rang the bell, the door sw.a.n.g open, and I was once more in the presence of Mr Masterton.
”I have a letter, sir,” said I, bowing, and presenting the letter from Lord Windermear.
The old gentleman peered at me through his spectacles. ”Why! we have met before--bless me--why you're the rogue that--”
”You are perfectly right, sir,” interrupted I. ”I am the rogue who presented the letter from Lord Windermear, and who presents you with another from the same person; do me the favour to read it, while I take a chair.”
”Upon my soul--you impudent--handsome dog, I must say--great pity--come for money, I suppose. Well, it's a sad world,” muttered the lawyer as he broke open the letter of Lord Windermear.
I made no reply, but watched his countenance, which changed to that of an expression of surprise. ”Had his lords.h.i.+p sent me a request to have you hanged, if possible,” said Mr Masterton, ”I should have felt no surprise; but in this letter he praises you, and desires me to render you all the service in my power. I can't understand it.”
”No, sir; but if you have leisure to listen to me, you will then find that, in this world, we may be deceived by appearances.”
”Well, and so I was, when I first saw you; I never could have believed you to be--but never mind.”
”Perhaps, sir, in an hour or two you will again alter your opinion. Are you at leisure, or will you make an appointment for some future day?”
”Mr Newland, I am not at leisure--I never was more busy; and if you had come on any legal business, I should have put you off for three or four days, at least; but my curiosity is so raised, that I am determined that I will indulge it at the expense of my interest. I will turn the key, and then you will oblige me by unravelling, what, at present, is to me as curious as it is wholly incomprehensible.”
PART TWO, CHAPTER TEN.
I ATTEMPT TO PROFIT BY INTELLIGENCE I RECEIVE, AND THROW A LADY INTO HYSTERICS.
In about three hours I had narrated the history of my life, up to the very day, almost as much detailed as it has been to the reader. ”And now, Mr Masterton,” said I, as I wound up my narrative, ”do you think that I deserve the t.i.tle of rogue, which you applied to me when I came in?”
”Upon my word, Mr Newland, I hardly know what to say; but I like to tell the truth. To say that you have been quite honest, would not be correct--a rogue, to a certain degree, you have been, but you have been the rogue of circ.u.mstances. I can only say this, that there are greater rogues than you, whose characters are unblemished in the world--that most people in your peculiar situation would have been much greater rogues; and, lastly, that rogue or not rogue, I have great pleasure in taking you by the hand, and will do all I possibly can to serve you--and that for your own sake. Your search after your parents I consider almost tantamount to a wild-goose chase; but still, as your happiness depends upon it, I suppose it must be carried on; but you must allow me time for reflection. I will consider what may be the most judicious method of proceeding. Can you dine _tete-a-tete_ with me here on Friday, and we then will talk over the matter?”
”On Friday, sir; I am afraid that I am engaged to Lady Maelstrom; but that is of no consequence--I will write an excuse to her ladys.h.i.+p.”
”Lady Maelstrom! how very odd that you should bring up her name after our conversation.”
”Why so, my dear sir?”
”Why!” replied Mr Masterton, chuckling; ”because--recollect, it is a secret, Mr Newland--I remember some twenty years ago, when she was a girl of eighteen, before she married, she had a little _faux pas_, and I was called in about a settlement, for the maintenance of the child.”
”Is it possible, sir?” replied I, anxiously.