"My dear girl," said Mr Chester, bending over her moreaffectionately still; "whom I would call my daughter, but the Fatesforbid, Edward seeks to break with you upon a false and mostunwarrantable pretence. I have it on his own showing; in his ownhand. Forgive me, if I have had a watch upon his conduct; I am hisfather; I had a regard for your peace and his honour, and no betterresource was left me. There lies on his desk at this presentmoment, ready for transmission to you, a letter, in which he tellsyou that our poverty--our poverty; his and mine, Miss Haredale-forbidshim to pursue his claim upon your hand; in which he offers,voluntarily proposes, to free you from your pledge; and talksmagnanimously (men do so, very commonly, in such cases) of being intime more worthy of your regard--and so forth. A letter, to beplain, in which he not only jilts you--pardon the word; I wouldsummon to your aid your pride and dignity--not only jilts you, Ifear, in favour of the object whose slighting treatment firstinspired his brief passion for yourself and gave it birth inwounded vanity, but affects to make a merit and a virtue of theact."
She glanced proudly at him once more, as by an involuntary impulse,and with a swelling breast rejoined, "If what you say be true, hetakes much needless trouble, sir, to compass his design. He"s verytender of my peace of mind. I quite thank him."
"The truth of what I tell you, dear young lady," he replied, "youwill test by the receipt or non-receipt of the letter of which Ispeak. Haredale, my dear fellow, I am delighted to see you,although we meet under singular circumstances, and upon amelancholy occasion. I hope you are very well."
At these words the young lady raised her eyes, which were filledwith tears; and seeing that her uncle indeed stood before them, andbeing quite unequal to the trial of hearing or of speaking one wordmore, hurriedly withdrew, and left them. They stood looking ateach other, and at her retreating figure, and for a long timeneither of them spoke.
"What does this mean? Explain it," said Mr Haredale at length.
"Why are you here, and why with her?"
"My dear friend," rejoined the other, resuming his accustomedmanner with infinite readiness, and throwing himself upon the benchwith a weary air, "you told me not very long ago, at thatdelightful old tavern of which you are the esteemed proprietor (anda most charming establishment it is for persons of rural pursuitsand in robust health, who are not liable to take cold), that I hadthe head and heart of an evil spirit in all matters of deception.
I thought at the time; I really did think; you flattered me. Butnow I begin to wonder at your discernment, and vanity apart, dohonestly believe you spoke the truth. Did you ever counterfeitextreme ingenuousness and honest indignation? My dear fellow, youhave no conception, if you never did, how faint the effort makesone."
Mr Haredale surveyed him with a look of cold contempt. "You mayevade an explanation, I know," he said, folding his arms. "But Imust have it. I can wait."
"Not at all. Not at all, my good fellow. You shall not wait amoment," returned his friend, as he lazily crossed his legs. "Thesimplest thing in the world. It lies in a nutshell. Ned haswritten her a letter--a boyish, honest, sentimental composition,which remains as yet in his desk, because he hasn"t had the heartto send it. I have taken a liberty, for which my parentalaffection and anxiety are a sufficient excuse, and possessedmyself of the contents. I have described them to your niece (amost enchanting person, Haredale; quite an angelic creature), witha little colouring and description adapted to our purpose. It"sdone. You may be quite easy. It"s all over. Deprived of theiradherents and mediators; her pride and jealousy roused to theutmost; with nobody to undeceive her, and you to confirm me; youwill find that their intercourse will close with her answer. Ifshe receives Ned"s letter by to-morrow noon, you may date theirparting from to-morrow night. No thanks, I beg; you owe me none.
I have acted for myself; and if I have forwarded our compact withall the ardour even you could have desired, I have done soselfishly, indeed."
"I curse the compact, as you call it, with my whole heart andsoul," returned the other. "It was made in an evil hour. I havebound myself to a lie; I have leagued myself with you; and though Idid so with a righteous motive, and though it cost me such aneffort as haply few men know, I hate and despise myself for thedeed."
"You are very warm," said Mr Chester with a languid smile.
"I AM warm. I am maddened by your coldness. "Death, Chester, ifyour blood ran warmer in your veins, and there were no restraintsupon me, such as those that hold and drag me back--well; it isdone; you tell me so, and on such a point I may believe you. WhenI am most remorseful for this treachery, I will think of you andyour marriage, and try to justify myself in such remembrances, forhaving torn asunder Emma and your son, at any cost. Our bond iscancelled now, and we may part."
Mr Chester kissed his hand gracefully; and with the same tranquilface he had preserved throughout--even when he had seen hiscompanion so tortured and transported by his passion that his wholeframe was shaken--lay in his lounging posture on the seat andwatched him as he walked away.
"My scapegoat and my drudge at school," he said, raising his headto look after him; "my friend of later days, who could not keep hismistress when he had won her, and threw me in her way to carry offthe prize; I triumph in the present and the past. Bark on, illfavoured,ill-conditioned cur; fortune has ever been with me--Ilike to hear you."
The spot where they had met, was in an avenue of trees. MrHaredale not passing out on either hand, had walked straight on.
He chanced to turn his head when at some considerable distance, andseeing that his late companion had by that time risen and waslooking after him, stood still as though he half expected him tofollow and waited for his coming up.
"It MAY come to that one day, but not yet," said Mr Chester,waving his hand, as though they were the best of friends, andturning away. "Not yet, Haredale. Life is pleasant enough to me;dull and full of heaviness to you. No. To cross swords with sucha man--to indulge his humour unless upon extremity--would be weakindeed."
For all that, he drew his sword as he walked along, and in anabsent humour ran his eye from hilt to point full twenty times.
But thoughtfulness begets wrinkles; remembering this, he soon putit up, smoothed his contracted brow, hummed a gay tune with greatergaiety of manner, and was his unruffled self again.