Part 144 (1/2)
d.i.c.k hastily withdrew his arm from Leonard's.
”Serpent's tooth!” he said falteringly, ”so it is you, whom I warmed at my hearth, who are to ruin Richard Avenel?”
”No; but to save him! Come into the City and look at my model. If you like it, the patent shall be yours!”
”Cab, cab, cab,” cried d.i.c.k Avenel, stopping a 'Ransom;' ”jump in, Leonard,--jump in. I'll buy your patent,--that is, if it be worth a straw; and as for payment--”
”Payment! Don't talk of that!”
”Well, I won't,” said d.i.c.k, mildly; ”for 't is not the topic of conversation I should choose myself, just at present. And as for that black-whiskered alligator, the baron, let me first get out of those rambustious, unchristian, filbert-shaped claws of his, and then--but jump in! jump in! and tell the man where to drive!”
A very brief inspection of Leonard's invention sufficed to show Richard Avenel how invaluable it would be to him. Armed with a patent, of which the certain effects in the increase of power and diminution of labour were obvious to any practical man, Avenel felt that he should have no difficulty in obtaining such advances of money as he required, whether to alter his engines, meet the bills discounted by Levy, or carry on the war with the monster capitalist. It might be necessary to admit into partners.h.i.+p some other monster capitalist--What then? Any partner better than Levy. A bright idea struck him.
”If I can just terrify and whop that infernal intruder on my own ground for a few months, he may offer, himself, to enter into partners.h.i.+p,--make the two concerns a joint-stock friendly combination, and then we shall flog the world.”
His grat.i.tude to Leonard became so lively that d.i.c.k offered to bring his nephew in for Lansmere instead of himself; and when Leonard declined the offer, exclaimed, ”Well, then, any friend of yours; I'm all for reform against those high and mighty right honourable borough-mongers; and what with loans and mortgages on the small householders, and a long course of 'Free and Easies' with the independent freemen, I carry one--seat certain, perhaps both seats of the town of Lansmere, in my breeches pocket.” d.i.c.k then, appointing an interview with Leonard at his lawyer's, to settle the transfer of the invention, upon terms which he declared ”should be honourable to both parties,” hurried off, to search amongst his friends in the City for some monster capitalist, who alight be induced to extricate him from the jaws of Levy and the engines of his rival at Screwstown. ”Mullins is the man, if I can but catch him,” said d.i.c.k. ”You have heard of Mullins?--a wonderful great man; you should see his nails; he never cuts them! Three millions, at least, he has sc.r.a.ped together with those nails of his, sir. And in this rotten old country, a man must have nails a yard long to fight with a devil like Levy!
Good-by, good-by,--Goon-by, MY DEAR, nephew!”
CHAPTER XX.
Harley L'Estrange was seated alone in his apartments. He had just put down a volume of some favourite cla.s.sic author, and he was resting his hand firmly clenched upon the book. Ever since Harley's return to England, there had been a perceptible change in the expression of his countenance, even in the very bearing and att.i.tudes of his elastic youthful figure. But this change had been more marked since that last interview with Helen which has been recorded. There was a compressed, resolute firmness in the lips, a decided character in the brow. To the indolent, careless grace of his movements had succeeded a certain indescribable energy, as quiet and self-collected as that which distinguished the determined air of Audley Egerton himself. In fact, if you could have looked into his heart, you would have seen that Harley was, for the first time, making a strong effort over his pa.s.sions and his humours; that the whole man was nerving himself to a sense of duty.
”No,” he muttered,--”no! I will think only of Helen; I will think only of real life! And what (were I not engaged to another) would that dark-eyed Italian girl be to me?--What a mere fool's fancy is this! I love again,--I, who through all the fair spring of my life have clung with such faith to a memory and a grave! Come, come, come, Harley L'Estrange, act thy part as man amongst men, at last! Accept regard; dream no more of pa.s.sion. Abandon false ideals. Thou art no poet--why deem that life itself can be a poem?”
The door opened, and the Austrian prince, whom Harley had interested in the cause of Violante's father, entered, with the familiar step of a friend.
”Have you discovered those doc.u.ments yet?” said the prince. ”I must now return to Vienna within a few days; and unless you can arm me with some tangible proof of Peschiera's ancient treachery, or some more unanswerable excuse for his n.o.ble kinsman, I fear that there is no other hope for the exile's recall to his country than what lies in the hateful option of giving his daughter to his perfidious foe.”
”Alas!” said Harley, ”as yet all researches have been in vain; and I know not what other steps to take, without arousing Peschiera's vigilance, and setting his crafty brains at work to counteract us. My poor friend, then, must rest contented with exile. To give Violante to the count were dishonour. But I shall soon be married; soon have a home, not quite unworthy of their due rank, to offer both to father and to child.”
”Would the future Lady L'Estrange feel no jealousy of a guest so fair as you tell me this young signorina is? And would you be in no danger yourself, my poor friend?”
”Pooh!” said Harley, colouring. ”My fair guest would have two fathers; that is all. Pray do not jest on a thing so grave as honour.”
Again the door opened, and Leonard appeared.
”Welcome,” cried Harley, pleased to be no longer alone under the prince's penetrating eye,--”welcome. This is the n.o.ble friend who shares our interest for Riccabocca, and who could serve him so well, if we could but discover the doc.u.ment of which I have spoken to you.”
”It is here,” said Leonard, simply; ”may it be all that you require!”
Harley eagerly grasped at the packet, which had been sent from Italy to the supposed Mrs. Bertram, and, leaning his face on his hand, rapidly hurried through the contents.
”Hurrah!” he cried at last, with his face lighted up, and a boyish toss of his right hand. ”Look, look, Prince, here are Peschiera's own letters to his kinsman's wife; his avowal of what he calls his 'patriotic designs;' his entreaties to her to induce her husband to share them.
Look, look, how he wields his influence over the woman he had once wooed; look how artfully he combats her objections; see how reluctant our friend was to stir, till wife and kinsman both united to urge him!”
”It is enough,-quite enough,” exclaimed the prince, looking at the pa.s.sages in Peschiera's letters which Harley pointed out to him.