Part 44 (1/2)

”Mr. Oaklands, I am sorry to say, recovers but slowly; the wound was a very severe one,” returned I coldly. ”Well, I will not detain you any longer, it is a lovely morning for a ride,” resumed c.u.mberland; ”can I be of any a.s.sistance in directing you? the lanes in this neighbourhood are somewhat intricate--you are not perhaps aware that the road you are now following is a private one.” ”Scarcely so private that those who have business with Mr. Vernor may not make use of it, I presume,”

rejoined I. ”Oh! of course not,” was the reply--”I did not know that you were acquainted with my uncle; though now I come to think of it, I do recollect his saying that he had met you somewhere. He seldom receives visitors in the morning;--in fact, when I came out, I left him particularly engaged. Perhaps I can save you the trouble of going up to the house; is there any message I can deliver for you?” ”I thank you,”

replied I, ”but I do not think the business which has brought me here could be well transacted through a third person; at all events, I will take my chance of being admitted:”--I paused, but could not refrain from adding, ”besides, if my memory fails not, you were a somewhat heedless messenger in days of yore.”

This allusion to his embezzlement of Oaklands' letter stung him to the quick: he turned as white as ashes, and -296-- asked, in a voice that trembled with pa.s.sion, ”Whether I meant to insult him?”

”I spoke heedlessly, and without deliberate intention,” I replied; ”but perhaps it is only fair to tell you that for the future there can be no friendly communication between us; we must either avoid each other altogether, which would be the most desirable arrangement, or meet as strangers. The disgraceful conduct of the boy I could have forgiven and forgotten, had not its memory been revived by the evil deeds of the man.

Richard c.u.mberland, I know you thoroughly; it is needless for me to add more.”

As I spoke his cheek flushed, then grew pale again with shame and anger, while he bit his under lip so severely that a red line remained where his teeth had pressed it. When I concluded, he advanced towards me with a threatening gesture, but, unable to meet the steadfast look with which I confronted him, he turned abruptly on his heel, and muttering, ”You shall repent this,” disappeared among the shrubs.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII PACING THE ENEMY

”'Sir,' said the Count, with brow exceeding grave, 'Your unexpected presence here will make It necessary for myself to crave Its import? But perhaps it's a mistake.

I hope it is so; and at once, to waive All compliment, I hope so for your sake.

You understand my meaning, or you shall.'”

_Beppo_.

”IS your master--is Mr. Vernor at home?” inquired I of the grim-visaged old servant, who looked, if possible, taller and more wooden than when I had last seen him.

”Well, I suppose not, sir!” was the somewhat odd reply.

”You suppose!” repeated I; ”if you have any doubt, had you not better go and see?”

”That won't be of no manner of use, sir,” was the rejoinder; ”I should not be none the wiser.”

It was clear that the old man was a complete original; but his affection for Clara was a virtue which in my eyes would have atoned for any amount of eccentricity; and as I was anxious to stand well in his good graces, I -297-- determined to fall in with his humour; accordingly I replied with a smile, ”How do you make out that--did you never hear that seeing is believing?”

”Not always, sir,” he answered, ”for if I'd a trusted to my eyesight--and it ain't so bad neither for a man that's no great way off sixty--I should have fancied Muster Wernor was a sitting in the liberrary; but he told me he was not at home hisself, and he ought to know best.”

”Tell him I won't detain him long,” returned I, ”but that I am come on business of importance.”

”'Tain't of no manner of use, young gentleman,” was the reply; ”he told me he wasn't at home, and he said it uncommon cross too, as if he meant it, and if I was to go to him twenty times he'd only say the same thing.” ”What's your name, my good friend?” inquired I. ”Peter Barnett, at your service, sir,” was the answer. ”Well, then, Peter, we must contrive to understand one another a little better. You have known your young mistress from a child, and have a sincere regard for her--is it not so?”

”What, Miss Clara, G.o.d bless her!--why, I love her as if she was my own flesh and blood; I should be a brute if I didn't, poor lamb.”

”Well, then, when I tell you that her happiness is very nearly connected with the object of my visit--when I say, that it is to prevent her from being obliged to do something of which she has the greatest abhorrence that I am anxious to meet Mr. Vernor--I am sure you will contrive that I shall see him.”

As I concluded, the old man, muttering to himself, ”That's it, is it?”

began to examine me from top to toe with a critical glance, as if I had been some animal he was about to purchase; and when he reached my face, gazed at me long and fixedly, as though striving to read my character.

Apparently the result of his scrutiny was favourable, for after again saying in a low tone, ”Well, I likes the looks of him,” he added, ”This way, young gentleman--you shall see him if that's what you want--it ain't a hanging matter, after all”. As he spoke, he threw open the door of the library, saying, ”Gentleman says his business is wery partikler, so I thought you'd better see him yourself”.

Mr. Vernor, who was seated at a table writing, rose on my entrance, bowed stiffly to me, and, casting a withering glance on Peter Barnett, signed to him to shut the door. As soon as that worthy had obeyed the command, he -298-- resumed his seat, and, addressing me with the same frigid politeness which he had shown on the occasion of my first visit to him, said, ”I am somewhat occupied this morning, and must therefore be excused for inquiring at once what very particular business Mr.

Fairlegh can have with me”. His tone and manner, as he spoke, were such as to render me fully aware of the pleasant nature of the task before me; namely, to make the most disagreeable communication possible, to the most disagreeable person to whom such a communication could be made.

Still, I was regularly in for it; there was nothing left for me but to ”go a-head”; and as I thought of Clara and her sorrows, the task seemed to lose half its difficulty. However, it was not without some hesitation that I began:--