Part 56 (1/2)
”Hang your honor, go and do what I desire you.”
”I will, your honor.”
Reilly's astonishment was beyond belief on learning that his vindictive prosecutor had called upon him; but on more mature reflection, and comparing what had happened before with the only motive which he could a.s.sign for such a visit, he felt pretty certain that the squire came to revive, in his own person, a subject which he had before proposed to him through his daughter. There was no other earthly object to which he could attribute his visit; but of course he made up his mind to receive him with every courtesy. At length Folliard entered, and, before Reilly had time to utter a syllable, commenced:
”Reilly,” said he, ”you are astonished to see me here?”
”I am, sir,” replied Reilly, ”very much.”
”Yes, I thought you would; and very few persons, except myself, would come upon such an errand to the man that has disgraced my daughter, myself, and my family; you have stained our name, sir--a name that was never a.s.sociated with any thing but honor and purity until you came among us.”
”If you have paid me this visit, sir, only for the purpose of uttering language which you know must be very painful to me, I would rather you had declined to call upon me at all. I perceive no object you can have in it, unless to gratify a feeling of enmity on your part, and excite one of sorrow on mine. I say sorrow, because, on considering our relative positions, and knowing the impetuosity of your temper, I am sorry to see you here; it is scarcely generous in you to come, for the purpose of indulging in a poor, and what, after all, may be an equivocal and premature triumph over a man whose love for your daughter, you must know, will seal his lips against the expression of one offensive word towards you.”
”But how, let me ask, sir, do you know what brought me here? I didn't come to scold you, nor to triumph over you; and I have already said the worst I shall say. I know very well that you and Whitecraft will be hanged, probably from the same rope too, but, in the meantime, I would save you both if I could. I fear indeed that to save him is out of the question, because it appears that there's a cart-load of indictments against him.”
”How could you doubt it, sir, when you know the incredible extent of his villany, both private and public? and yet this is the man to whom you would have married your daughter!”
”No; when I found Helen reduced to such a state the morning on which they were to be married, I told her at once that as she felt so bitterly against him I would never suffer him to become her husband. Neither will I; if he were acquitted tomorrow I would tell him so; but you, Reilly, love my daughter for her own sake.”
”For her own sake, sir, as you have said, I love her. If she had millions, it could not increase my affection, and if she had not a penny, it would not diminish it.”
”Well, but you can have her if you wish, notwithstanding.”
Reilly first looked at him with amazement; but he was so thoroughly acquainted with his character, both from what he had seen and heard of it, that his amazement pa.s.sed away, and he simply replied:
”Pray how, sir?”
”Why, I'll tell you what, Reilly; except with respect to political principles, I don't think, after all, that there's the difference of a a rush between the Papist and the Protestant Churches, as mere religions.
My own opinion is, that there's neither of them any great shakes, as to any effect they have on society, unless to disturb it. I have known as good Papists as ever I did Protestants, and indeed I don't know why a Papist should not be as good a man as a Protestant; nor why a Protestant should not be as good a man as a Papist, on the other hand. Now, do you see what I'm driving at?”
”Well, I can't exactly say that I do,” replied Reilly.
[Ill.u.s.tration: PAGE 157--There is not a toss-up between them]
”Then the upshot of the argument is this, that there is not a toss-up between them, and any man getting into a sc.r.a.pe, and who could get out of it by changing from one to the other--of course I mean from Popery to Protestantism--would prove himself a man of good sound sense, and above the prejudices of the world.”
The truth is, Reilly saw ere this what Folliard was approaching, and, as he determined to allow him full scope, his reply was brief:
”You seem fond of indulging in speculation, sir,” replied Reilly, with a smile; ”but I should be glad to know why you introduce this subject to me?”
”To you?” replied Folliard; ”why, who the devil else should or could I introduce it to with such propriety? Here now are two religions; one's not sixpence better nor worse than the other. Now, you belong to one of them, and because you do you're here snug and fast. I say, then, I have a proposal to make to you: you are yourself in a difficulty--you have placed me in a difficulty--and you have placed poor Helen in a difficulty--which, if any thing happens you, I think will break her heart, poor child. Now you can take her, yourself, and me, out of all our difficulties, if you have only sense enough to shove over from the old P---- to the young P----. As a Protestant, you can marry Helen, Reilly--but as a Papist, never! and you know the rest; for if you are obstinate, and blind to your own interests, I must do my duty.”
”Will you allow me to ask, sir, whether Miss Folliard is aware of this mission of yours to me?”
”She aware! She never dreamt of it; but I have promised to tell her the result after dinner to-day.”
”Well, sir,” replied Reilly, ”will you allow me to state to you a few facts?”
”Certainly; go on.”