Part 178 (1/2)
”I could not help it,--you would have done the same by me. You see you have failed in everything; and when a man fails completely, we both agreed that we must give him up altogether.”
Randal said not a word, and the baron marked his shadow fall on the broad stairs, stealing down, down, step after step, till it faded from the stones.
”But he was of some use,” muttered Levy. ”His treachery and his exposure will gall the childless Egerton. Some little revenge still!”
The count touched the arm of the musing usurer,
”J'ai bien joue mon role, n'est ce pas?”--(I have well played my part, have I not?)
”Your part! Ah, but, my dear count, I do not quite understand it.”
”Ma foi, you are pa.s.sably dull. I had just been landed in France, when a letter from L'Estrange reached me. It was couched as an invitation, which I interpreted to--the duello. Such invitations I never refuse.
I replied: I came hither, took my lodgings at an inn. My Lord seeks me last night.
”I begin in the tone you may suppose. Pardieu! he is clever, milord! He shows me a letter from the Prince Von -----, Alphonse's recall, my own banishment. He places before me, but with admirable suavity, the option of beggary and ruin, or an honourable claim on Alphonso's grat.i.tude. And as for that pet.i.t monsieur, do you think I could quietly contemplate my own tool's enjoyment of all I had lost myself? Nay, more, if that young Harpagon were Alphonso's son-inlaw, could the duke have a whisperer at his ear more fatal to my own interests? To be brief, I saw at a glance my best course. I have adopted it. The difficulty was to extricate myself as became a man de sang et de jeu. If I have done so, congratulate me. Alphonso has taken my hand, and I now leave it to him to attend to my fortunes, and clear up my repute.”
”If you are going to London,” said Levy, ”my carriage, ere this, must be at the door, and I shall be proud to offer you a seat, and converse with you on your prospects. But, peste, mon cher, your fall has been from a great height, and any other man would have broken his bones.”
”Strength is ever light,” said the count, smiling; ”and it does not fall; it leaps down and rebounds.”
Levy looked at the count, and blamed himself for having disparaged Peschiera and overrated Randal.
While this conference went on, Harley was by Violante's side.
”I have kept my promise to you,” said he, with a kind of tender humility. ”Are you still so severe on me?”
”Ah,” answered Violante, gazing on his n.o.ble brow, with all a woman's pride in her eloquent, admiring eyes, ”I have heard from Mr. Dale that you have achieved a conquest over yourself, which makes me ashamed to think that I presumed to doubt how your heart would speak when a moment of wrath (though of wrath so just) had pa.s.sed away.”
”No, Violante, do not acquit me yet; witness my revenge (for I have not foregone it), and then let my heart speak, and breathe its prayer that the angel voice, which it now beats to hear, may still be its guardian monitor.”
”What is this?” cried an amazed voice; and Harley, turning round, saw that the duke was by his side; and, glancing with ludicrous surprise, now to Harley, now to Violante, ”Am I to understand that you--”
”Have freed you from one suitor for this dear hand, to become myself your pet.i.tioner!”
”Corpo di Bacco!” cried the sage, almost embracing Harley, ”this, indeed, is joyful news. But I must not again make a rash pledge,--not again force my child's inclinations. And Violante; you see, is running away.”
The duke stretched out his arm, and detained his child. He drew her to his breast, and whispered in her ear. Violante blushed crimson, and rested her head on his shoulder. Harley eagerly pressed forward.
”There,” said the duke, joining Harley's hand with his daughter's, ”I don't think I shall hear much more of the convent; but anything of this sort I never suspected. If there be a language in the world for which there is no lexicon nor grammar, it is that which a woman thinks in, but never speaks.”
”It is all that is left of the language spoken in paradise,” said Harley.
”In the dialogue between Eve and the serpent,--yes,” quoth the incorrigible sage. ”But who comes here?--our friend Leonard.”
Leonard now entered the room; but Harley could scarcely greet him, before he was interrupted by the count. ”Milord,” said Peschiera, beckoning him aside, ”I have fulfilled my promise, and I will now leave your roof. Baron Levy returns to London, and offers me a seat in his carriage, which is already, I believe, at your door. The duke and his daughter will readily forgive me if I do not ceremoniously bid them farewell. In our altered positions, it does not become me too intrusively to claim kindred; it became me only to remove, as I trust I have done, a barrier against the claim. If you approve my conduct, you will state your own opinion to the duke.” With a profound salutation the count turned to depart; nor did Harley attempt to stay him, but attended him down the stairs with polite formality.
”Remember only, my Lord, that I solicit nothing. I may allow myself to accept,--voilia tout.” He bowed again, with the inimitable grace of the old regime, and stepped into the baron's travelling carriage.
Levy, who had lingered behind, paused to accost L'Estrange. ”Your Lords.h.i.+p will explain to Mr. Egerton how his adopted son deserved his esteem, and repaid his kindness. For the rest, though you have bought up the more pressing and immediate demands on Mr. Egerton, I fear that even your fortune will not enable you to clear those liabilities which will leave him, perhaps, a pauper!”