Part 70 (2/2)

Mr. Beaufort's trembling hand dropped the letter--he grasped the elbow of the chair to save himself from falling. It was clear!--the same visitor who had persecuted himself had now sought his son! He grew sick, his son might have heard the witness--might be convinced. His son himself now appeared to him as a foe--for the father dreaded the son's honour! He glanced furtively round the table, till his eye rested on Vaudemont, and his terror was redoubled, for Vaudemont's face, usually so calm, was animated to an extraordinary degree, as he now lifted it from the letter he had just read. Their eyes met. Robert Beaufort looked on him as a prisoner at the bar looks on the accusing counsel, when he first commences his harangue.

”Mr. Beaufort,” said the guest, ”the letter you have given me summons me to London on important business, and immediately. Suffer me to send for horses at your earliest convenience.”

”What's the matter?” said the feeble and seldom heard voice of Mrs.

Beaufort. ”What's the matter, Robert?--is Arthur coming?”

”He comes to-day,” said the father, with a deep sigh; and Vaudemont, at that moment rising from his half-finished breakfast, with a bow that included the group, and with a glance that lingered on Camilla, as she bent over her own unopened letter (a letter from Winandermere, the seal of which she dared not yet to break), quitted the room. He hastened to his own chamber, and strode to and fro with a stately step--the step of the Master--then, taking forth the letter, he again hurried over its contents. They ran thus:

DEAR, Sir,--At last the missing witness has applied to me. He proves to be, as you conjectured, the same person who had called on Mr. Roger Morton; but as there are some circ.u.mstances on which I wish to take your instructions without a moment's delay, I shall leave London by the mail, and wait you at D---- (at the princ.i.p.al inn), which is, I understand, twenty miles on the high road from Beaufort Court.

”I have the honor to be, sir, ”Yours, &c., ”JOHN BARLOW.

Vaudemont was yet lost in the emotions that this letter aroused, when they came to announce that his chaise was arrived. As he went down the stairs he met Camilla, who was on the way to her own room.

”Miss Beaufort,” said he, in a low and tremulous voice, ”in wis.h.i.+ng you farewell I may not now say more. I leave you, and, strange to say, I do not regret it, for I go upon an errand that may ent.i.tle me to return again, and speak those thoughts which are uppermost in my soul even at this moment.”

He raised her hand to his lips as he spoke, and at that moment Mr.

Beaufort looked from the door of his own room, and cried, ”Camilla.”

She was too glad to escape. Philip gazed after her light form for an instant, and then hurried down the stairs.

CHAPTER XI.

”Longueville.--What! are you married, Beaufort?

Beaufort.--Ay, as fast As words, and hands, and hearts, and priest, Could make us.”--BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: n.o.ble Gentleman.

In the parlour of the inn at D------ sat Mr. John Barlow. He had just finished his breakfast, and was writing letters and looking over papers connected with his various business--when the door was thrown open, and a gentleman entered abruptly.

”Mr. Beaufort,” said the lawyer rising, ”Mr. Philip Beaufort--for such I now feel you are by right--though,” he added, with his usual formal and quiet smile, ”not yet by law; and much--very much, remains to be done to make the law and the right the same;--I congratulate you on having something at last to work on. I had begun to despair of finding our witness, after a month's advertising; and had commenced other investigations, of which I will speak to you presently, when yesterday, on my return to town from an errand on your business, I had the pleasure of a visit from William Smith himself.--My dear sir, do not yet be too sanguine.--It seems that this poor fellow, having known misfortune, was in America when the first fruitless inquiries were made. Long after this he returned to the colony, and there met with a brother, who, as I drew from him, was a convict. He helped the brother to escape. They both came to England. William learned from a distant relation, who lent him some little money, of the inquiry that had been set on foot for him; consulted his brother, who desired him to leave all to his management.

The brother afterwards a.s.sured him that you and Mr. Sidney were both dead; and it seems (for the witness is simple enough to allow me to extract all) this same brother then went to Mr. Beaufort to hold out the threat of a lawsuit, and to offer the sale of the evidence yet existing--”

”And Mr. Beaufort?”

”I am happy to say, seems to have spurned the offer. Meanwhile William, incredulous of his brother's report, proceeded to N----, learned nothing from Mr. Morton, met his brother again--and the brother (confessing that he had deceived him in the a.s.sertion that you and Mr. Sidney were dead) told him that he had known you in earlier life, and set out to Paris to seek you--”

”Known me?--To Paris?”

”More of this presently. William returned to town, living hardly and penuriously on the little his brother bestowed on him, too melancholy and too poor for the luxury of a newspaper, and never saw our advertis.e.m.e.nt, till, as luck would have it, his money was out; he had heard nothing further of his brother, and he went for new a.s.sistance to the same relation who had before aided him. This relation, to his surprise, received the poor man very kindly, lent him what he wanted, and then asked him if he had not seen our advertis.e.m.e.nt. The newspaper shown him contained both the advertis.e.m.e.nts--that relating to Mr.

Morton's visitor, that containing his own name. He coupled them both together--called on me at once. I was from town on your business. He returned to his own home; the next morning (yesterday morning) came a letter from his brother, which I obtained from him at last, and with promises that no harm should happen to the writer on account of it.”

Vaudemont took the letter and read as follows:

”DEAR WILLIAM,--No go about the youngster I went after: all researches in vane. Paris develish expensive. Never mind, I have sene the other--the young B--; different sort of fellow from his father--very ill--frightened out of his wits--will go off to the governor, take me with him as far as Bullone. I think we shall settel it now. Mind as I saide before, don't put your foot in it. I send you a Nap in the Seele--all I can spare.

”Yours, ”JEREMIAH SMITH.

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