Volume I Part 6 (1/2)
”Sir Ma.s.singberd Heath, you are under my roof, although unbidden and unwelcome,” returned my host; ”your tongue, therefore, is chartered, so far as I am concerned. I could not, I confess, help my countenance expressing some astonishment when you spoke of your fitness for the education of youth.”
There was a pause here for which I could not account. Sir Ma.s.singberd's eyes were riveted upon something on which the firelight danced and shone. I should very much misrepresent the baronet's character, and probably even exaggerate his capabilities, if I said he blushed, but certainly his countenance changed. Then he broke out fiercely, ”I live as I choose, sir, and am answerable to no man, least of all to you. The parsons had their say, and have got their reply long ago, but am I also to be arraigned by--”
”You cannot justify yourself by any quarrel with me,” interrupted Mr.
Gerard. ”I have, as you say, although not for the foolish reason you would mention, no right to be either your judge or accuser. But, Sir Ma.s.singberd, there is a G.o.d whom we have both good cause to fear.”
”So you make your own sermons, I perceive,” exclaimed the other, bitterly. ”That is the reason, is it, why the good folks never see you at church? Cant amuses me always; but religion out of your mouth is humorous, indeed. Pray go on, sir, if my dear nephew can wait a little, for I should be sorry to miss him altogether. You were affirming, I think, the existence of a G.o.d.”
”I was about to urge,” continued Mr. Gerard, with grave severity, ”since howsoever persons differ on religious matters, they generally acknowledge a common Father, that if there is one crime more hateful to Him than another, it is the deliberate debauchery of the mind of youth.
I had no intention of making any particular accusation, such as the sight of this flask seems to have suggested to you. I know nothing--but what I guess--of its history. It has only been in my hands a very few minutes. The person by whose means it came into this house was, I believe, an old gipsy woman, and you are, doubtless, well aware how it got into her possession.”
Mr. Gerard paused. Sir Ma.s.singberd, who, though smiling scornfully, had been beating the ground with his foot, here observed, with a forced calmness, ”She is a liar; she is a thief, and the mother of thieves.”
”Did she steal this flask?” inquired Mr. Gerard, regarding the other attentively. ”It has your crest upon it. She did not. Good. It was then, I suppose, only a gage d'amour of yours.”
A lurid light came over Sir Ma.s.singberd's evil face; for a moment I trembled for the man who dared to speak such words to him, but almost instantly he recovered his usual cruel calm.
”Your sagacity, Mr. Gerard,” returned he, ”is truly admirable. Is it the result of experience or intuition? or has this old ginger-faced harridan made you her favoured confidant? With your fondness for all such vagabonds I am well acquainted.”
”The reprobation of a man like you, Sir Ma.s.singberd, should be dearer than the praise of ordinary mortals; but this matter does not concern myself in any way.”
The baronet muttered something between his set teeth.
”Pshaw! man,” continued Mr. Gerard, with unutterable scorn; ”think not to frighten me. I am stronger than you, because I am richer; you are as poor as those very vagabonds whom you despise; your very existence depends upon the alms of a stranger. That you are unscrupulous in your revenges, I do not doubt; but you would have to deal in Harvey Gerard with one who only uses honourable weapons with an honourable foe. If you did me or mine a mischief, I swear to you that I would shoot you like a dog.”
The frame of the speaker shook with contemptuous pa.s.sion. Defiant as was his language, it fell far short of the disdain expressed in his tone and manner. It was not in Sir Ma.s.singberd's nature to be overawed, but his truculent features no longer maintained their grimness--their cruel humour. He could not put aside a man like Gerard with a brutal jest. I do not say that he was conscious of his own inferiority, but he knew that his opponent not only did not fear, but actually despised him. This was wormwood.
”I am ashamed,” continued Mr. Gerard, after a pause, ”to have lost my temper with you, Sir Ma.s.singberd, upon my own account. I wish to have nothing in common with you--not even a quarrel. We were speaking of this gipsy woman, and you called her thief, and what not. Whatever may be her faults, however, it does not become you to dwell on them; but for her and her prompt a.s.sistance, your nephew would not at this moment be alive. Out of this very flask she administered to him--” So frightful an execration here broke from the baronet's lips that I antic.i.p.ated it to be the prelude to a personal a.s.sault upon my host. Mr. Gerard, however, stood quietly stirring the fire, with his eyes fixed firmly but calmly on those of Sir Ma.s.singberd, just as a mad doctor might regard a dangerous patient.
”That is a very singular exclamation of grat.i.tude,” observed Mr. Gerard, sardonically, ”to one who has just performed you--or at least yours--so great a service. It really seems as though you almost regretted that it was performed.”
A look of deadly hatred had now taken the place of all other expressions on the baronet's face. It forgot even to wear its sneer.
”I have been insulted enough, I think,” said he, with a calmness more terrible than wrath. ”Even as it is, I shall scarcely be able to requite you, though, be sure, I will do my best. But, with respect to my errand, I am come here to see my nephew, and that I will do.”
”That you shall not do, Sir Ma.s.singberd, so surely as this house is mine.”
”And who shall prevent me?” exclaimed the baronet, contemptuously measuring his foe from head to foot.
”Not I, sir, indeed,” returned Mr. Gerard; ”but I will see that my servants put you out of doors by force,” and as he spoke he laid his hand upon the bell.
”Before night, then, I shall send for Marmaduke, and he shall be carried back to Fairburn, which, after all, is his proper home, and be there nursed.”
”Nursed!” repeated my host, hoa.r.s.ely. ”Nursed by the grave-digger, you mean.”
Sir Ma.s.singberd turned livid and sat down; then, as one who acts in his sleep, he pa.s.sed his handkerchief once or twice across his forehead.
”How dare you speak such things to me?” said he, looking round about him. ”To hear you talk, one would think that I had tried to murder the boy.”
”I know you did,” cried Mr. Gerard, solemnly, laying his finger upon the baronet's arm. ”If your nephew, Marmaduke, dies, his blood is on your head.”