BOOK XI. 

 "Man is born to be a doer of good. "--MARCUS ANTONINUS, lib. Iii. 

CHAPTER I. 

 His teeth he still did grind, And grimly gnash, threatening revenge in vain. --SPENSER. 

IT is now time to return to Lord Vargrave. His most sanguine hopes wererealized; all things seemed to prosper. The hand of Evelyn Cameron waspledged to him, the wedding-day was fixed. In less than a week she wasto confer upon the ruined peer a splendid dowry, that would smooth allobstacles in the ascent of his ambition. From Mr. Douce he learned thatthe deeds, which were to transfer to himself the baronial possessions ofthe head of the house of Maltravers, were nearly completed; and on hiswedding-day he hoped to be able to announce that the happy pair had setout for their princely mansion of Lisle Court. In politics; thoughnothing could be finally settled till his return, letters from LordSaxingham assured him that all was auspicious: the court and the heads ofthe aristocracy daily growing more alienated from the premier, and moreprepared for a Cabinet revolution. And Vargrave, perhaps, like mostneedy men, overrated the advantages he should derive from, and theservile opinions he should conciliate in, his new character of landedproprietor and wealthy peer. He was not insensible to the silent anguishthat Evelyn seemed to endure, nor to the bitter gloom that hung on thebrow of Lady Doltimore. But these were clouds that foretold nostorm, --light shadows that obscured not the serenity of the favouringsky. He continued to seem unconscious to either; to take the comingevent as a matter of course, and to Evelyn he evinced so gentle, unfamiliar, respectful, and delicate an attachment, that he left noopening, either for confidence or complaint. Poor Evelyn! her gayety, her enchanting levity, her sweet and infantine playfulness of manner, were indeed vanished. Pale, wan, passive, and smileless, she was theghost of her former self! But days rolled on, and the evil one drewnear; she recoiled, but she never dreamed of resisting. How many equalvictims of her age and sex does the altar witness!

One day, at early noon, Lord Vargrave took his way to Evelyn's. He hadbeen to pay a political visit in the Faubourg St. Germain, and he was nowslowly crossing the more quiet and solitary part of the gardens of theTuileries, his hands clasped behind him, after his old, unaltered habit, and his eyes downcast, --when suddenly a man, who was seated alone beneathone of the trees, and who had for some moments watched his steps with ananxious and wild aspect, rose and approached him. Lord Vargrave was notconscious of the intrusion, till the man laid his hand on Vargrave's arm, and exclaimed, --

"It is he! it is! Lumley Ferrers, we meet again!"

Lord Vargrave started and changed colour, as he gazed on the intruder. 

"Ferrers, " continued Cesarini (for it was he), and he wound his armfirmly into Lord Vargrave's as he spoke, "you have not changed; your stepis light, your cheek healthful; and yet I--you can scarcely recognize me. Oh, I have suffered so horribly since we parted! Why is this? Why haveI been so heavily visited, and why have you gone free? Heaven is notjust!"

Castruccio was in one of his lucid intervals; but there was that in hisuncertain eye, and strange unnatural voice, which showed that a breathmight dissolve the avalanche. Lord Vargrave looked anxiously round; nonewere near: but he knew that the more public parts of the garden werethronged, and through the trees he saw many forms moving in the distance. He felt that the sound of his voice could summon assistance in aninstant, and his assurance returned to him. 

"My poor friend, " said he soothingly, as he quickened his pace, "itgrieves me to the heart to see you look ill; do not think so much of whatis past. "

"There is no past!" replied Cesarini, gloomily. "The Past is my Present!And I have thought and thought, in darkness and in chains, over all thatI have endured, and a light has broken on me in the hours when they toldme I was mad! Lumley Ferrers, it was not for my sake that you led me, devil as you are, into the lowest hell! You had some object of your ownto serve in separating _her_ from Maltravers. You made me yourinstrument. What was I to you that you should have sinned for _my_ sake?Answer me, and truly, if those lips can utter truth!"

"Cesarini, " returned Vargrave, in his blandest accents, "another time wewill converse on what has been; believe me, my only object was yourhappiness, combined, it may be, with my hatred of your rival. "

"Liar!" shouted Cesarini, grasping Vargrave's arm with the strength ofgrowing madness, while his burning eyes were fixed upon his tempter'schanging countenance. "You, too, loved Florence; you, too, sought herhand; _you_ were my real rival!"

"Hush! my friend, hush!" said Vargrave, seeking to shake off the grip ofthe maniac, and becoming seriously alarmed; "we are approaching thecrowded part of the gardens, we shall be observed. "

"And why are men made my foes? Why is my own sister become mypersecutor? Why should she give me up to the torturer and the dungeon?Why are serpents and fiends my comrades? Why is there fire in my brainand heart; and why do you go free and enjoy liberty and life? Observed!What care _you_ for observation? All men search for _me_!"

"Then why so openly expose yourself to their notice; why--"

"Hear me!" interrupted Cesarini. "When I escaped from the horribleprison into which I was plunged; when I scented the fresh air, andbounded over the grass; when I was again free in limbs and spirit, --asudden strain of music from a village came on my ear, and I stoppedshort, and crouched down, and held my breath to listen. It ceased; and Ithought I had been with Florence, and I wept bitterly! When I recovered, memory came back to me distinct and clear; and I heard a voice say to me, 'Avenge her and thyself!' From that hour the voice has been heard again, morning and night! Lumley Ferrers, I hear it now! it speaks to my heart, it warms my blood, it nerves my hand! On whom should vengeance fall?Speak to me!"

Lumley strode rapidly on. They were now without the grove; a gay throngwas before them. "All is safe, " thought the Englishman. He turnedabruptly and haughtily on Cesarini, and waved his hand; "Begone, madman!"said he, in a loud and stern voice, --"begone! vex me no more, or I giveyou into custody. Begone, I say!"

Cesarini halted, amazed and awed for the moment; and then, with a darkscowl and a low cry, threw himself on Vargrave. The eye and hand of thelatter were vigilant and prepared; he grasped the uplifted arm of themaniac, and shouted for help. But the madman was now in his full fury;he hurled Vargrave to the ground with a force for which the peer was notprepared, and Lumley might never have risen a living man from that spot, if two soldiers, seated close by, had not hastened to his assistance. Cesarini was already kneeling on his breast, and his long bony fingerswere fastening upon the throat of his intended victim. Torn from hishold, he glared fiercely on his new assailants; and after a fierce butmomentary struggle, wrested himself from their grip. Then, turning roundto Vargrave, who had with some effort risen from the ground, he shriekedout, "I shall have thee yet!" and fled through the trees and disappeared. 

CHAPTER II. 

 AH, who is nigh? Come to me, friend or foe! My parks, my walks, my manors that I had, Ev'n now forsake me. --_HENRY VI_. Part iii. 

LORD VARGRAVE, bold as he was by nature, in vain endeavoured to banishfrom his mind the gloomy impression which the startling interview withCesarini had bequeathed. The face, the voice of the maniac, haunted him, as the shape of the warning wraith haunts the mountaineer. He returnedat once to his hotel, unable for some hours to collect himselfsufficiently to pay his customary visit to Miss Cameron. Inly resolvingnot to hazard a second meeting with the Italian during the rest of hissojourn at Paris by venturing in the streets on foot, he ordered hiscarriage towards evening; dined at the Cafe de Paris; and then re-enteredhis carriage to proceed to Lady Doltimore's house. 

"I beg your pardon, my lord, " said his servant, as he closed thecarriage-door, "but I forgot to say that, a short time after you returnedthis morning, a strange gentleman asked at the porter's lodge if Mr. Ferrers was not staying at the hotel. The porter said there was no Mr. Ferrers, but the gentleman insisted upon it that he had seen Mr. Ferrersenter. I was in the lodge at the moment, my lord, and I explained--"

"That Mr. Ferrers and Lord Vargrave are one and the same? What sort oflooking person?"

"Thin and dark, my lord, --evidently a foreigner. When I said that youwere now Lord Vargrave, he stared a moment, and said very abruptly thathe recollected it perfectly, and then he laughed and walked away. "

"Did he not ask to see me?"

"No, my lord; he said he should take another opportunity. He was astrange-looking gentleman, and his clothes were threadbare. "

"Ah, some troublesome petitioner. Perhaps a Pole in distress! RememberI am never at home when he calls. Shut the door. To Lady Doltimore's. "

Lumley's heart beat as he threw himself back, --he again felt the grip ofthe madman at his throat. He saw, at once, that Cesarini had dogged him;he resolved the next morning to change his hotel, and to apply to thepolice. It was strange how sudden and keen a fear had entered the breastof this callous and resolute man!

On arriving at Lady Doltimore's, he found Caroline alone in thedrawing-room. It was a _tete-a-tete_ that he by no means desired. 

"Lord Vargrave, " said Caroline, coldly, "I wished a short conversationwith you; and finding you did not come in the morning, I sent you a notean hour ago. Did you receive it?"

"No; I have been from home since six o'clock, --it is now nine. "

"Well, then, Vargrave, " said Caroline, with a compressed and writhinglip, and turning very pale, "I tremble to tell you that I fear Doltimoresuspects. He looked at me sternly this morning, and said, 'You seemunhappy, madam; this marriage of Lord Vargrave's distresses you!'"

"I warned you how it would be, --your own selfishness will betray and ruinyou. "

"Do not reproach me, man!" said Lady Doltimore, with great vehemence. "From you at least I have a right to pity, to forbearance, to succour. Iwill not bear reproach from _you_. "

"I reproach you for your own sake, for the faults you commit againstyourself; and I must say, Caroline, that after I had generously conqueredall selfish feeling, and assisted you to so desirable and even brillianta position, it is neither just nor high-minded in you to evince soungracious a reluctance to my taking the only step which can save me fromactual ruin. But what does Doltimore suspect? What ground has he forsuspicion, beyond that want of command of countenance which it is easy toexplain, --and which it is yet easier for a woman and a great lady [hereLumley sneered] to acquire?"

"I know not; it has been put into his head. Paris is so full of slander. But, Vargrave--Lumley--I tremble, I shudder with terror, if everDoltimore should discover--"

"Pooh! pooh! Our conduct at Paris has been most guarded, most discreet. Doltimore is Self-conceit personified, --and Self-conceit is horn-eyed. Iam about to leave Paris, --about to marry, from under your own roof; alittle prudence, a little self-control, a smiling face, when you wish ushappiness, and so forth, and all is safe. Tush! think of it no more!Fate has cut and shuffled the cards for you; the game is yours, unlessyou revoke. Pardon my metaphor; it is a favourite one, --I have worn itthreadbare; but human life _is_ so like a rubber at whist. Where isEvelyn?"

"In her own room. Have you no pity for her?"

"She will be very happy when she is Lady Vargrave; and for the rest, Ishall neither be a stern nor a jealous husband. She might not have giventhe same character to the magnificent Maltravers. "

Here Evelyn entered; and Vargrave hastened to press her hand, to whispertender salutations and compliments, to draw the easy-chair to the fire, to place the footstool, --to lavish the _petits soins_ that are soagreeable, when they are the small moralities of love. 

Evelyn was more than usually pale, --more than usually abstracted. Therewas no lustre in her eye, no life in her step; she seemed unconscious ofthe crisis to which she approached. As the myrrh and hyssop whichdrugged the malefactors of old into forgetfulness of their doom, so thereare griefs which stupefy before their last and crowning consummation!

Vargrave conversed lightly on the weather, the news, the last book. Evelyn answered but in monosyllables; and Caroline, with a hand-screenbefore her face, preserved an unbroken silence. Thus gloomy and joylesswere two of the party, thus gay and animated the third, when the clock onthe mantelpiece struck ten; and as the last stroke died, and Evelynsighed heavily, --for it was an hour nearer to the fatal day, --the doorwas suddenly thrown open, and pushing aside the servant, two gentlemenentered the room. 

Caroline, the first to perceive them, started from her seat with a faintexclamation of surprise. Vargrave turned abruptly, and saw before himthe stern countenance of Maltravers. 

"My child! my Evelyn!" exclaimed a familiar voice; and Evelyn had alreadyflown into the arms of Aubrey. 

The sight of the curate in company with Maltravers explained all at onceto Vargrave. He saw that the mask was torn from his face, the prizesnatched from his grasp, his falsehood known, his plot counterworked, hisvillany baffled! He struggled in vain for self-composure; all hisresources of courage and craft seemed drained and exhausted. Livid, speechless, almost trembling, he cowered beneath the eyes of Maltravers. 

Evelyn, not as yet aware of the presence of her former lover, was thefirst to break the silence. She lifted her face in alarm from the bosomof the good curate. "My mother--she is well--she lives--what brings youhither?"

"Your mother is well, my child. I have come hither at her earnestrequest to save you from a marriage with that unworthy man!"

Lord Vargrave smiled a ghastly smile, but made no answer. 

"Lord Vargrave, " said Maltravers, "you will feel at once that you have nofurther business under this roof. Let us withdraw, --I have much to thankyou for. "

"I will not stir!" exclaimed Vargrave, passionately, and stamping on thefloor. "Miss Cameron, the guest of Lady Doltimore, whose house andpresence you thus rudely profane, is my affianced bride, --affianced withher own consent. Evelyn, beloved Evelyn! mine you are yet; you alone cancancel the bond. Sir, I know not what you have to say, what mystery inyour immaculate life to disclose; but unless Lady Doltimore, whom yourviolence appalls and terrifies, orders me to quit her roof, it is notI, --it is yourself, who are the intruder! Lady Doltimore, with yourpermission, I will direct your servants to conduct this gentleman to hiscarriage!"

"Lady Doltimore, pardon me, " said Maltravers, coldly; "I will not beurged to any failure of respect to you. My lord, if the most abjectcowardice be not added to your other vices, you will not make this roomthe theatre for our altercation. I invite you, in those terms which nogentleman ever yet refused, to withdraw with me. "

The tone and manner of Maltravers exercised a strange control overVargrave; he endeavoured in vain to keep alive the passion into which hehad sought to work himself; his voice faltered, his head sank upon hisbreast. Between these two personages, none interfered; around them, allpresent grouped in breathless silence, --Caroline, turning her eyes fromone to the other in wonder and dismay; Evelyn, believing all a dream, yetalive only to the thought that, by some merciful interposition ofProvidence, she should escape the consequences of her own rashness, clinging to Aubrey, with her gaze riveted on Maltravers; and Aubrey, whose gentle character was borne down and silenced by the powerful andtempestuous passions that now met in collision and conflict, withheld byhis abhorrence of Vargrave's treachery from his natural desire topropitiate, and yet appalled by the apprehension of bloodshed, that forthe first time crossed him. 

There was a moment of dead silence, in which Vargrave seemed to benerving and collecting himself for such course as might be best topursue, when again the door opened, and the name of Mr. Howard wasannounced. 

Hurried and agitated, the young secretary, scarcely noticing the rest ofthe party, rushed to Lord Vargrave. 

"My lord! a thousand pardons for interrupting you, --business of suchimportance! I am so fortunate to find you!"

"What is the matter, sir?"

"These letters, my lord; I have so much to say!"

Any interruption, even an earthquake, at that moment must have beenwelcome to Vargrave. He bent his head, with a polite smile, linked hisarm into his secretary's, and withdrew to the recess of the farthestwindow. Not a minute elapsed before he turned away with a look ofscornful exultation. "Mr. Howard, " said he, "go and refresh yourself, and come to me at twelve o'clock to-night; I shall be at home then. " Thesecretary bowed, and withdrew. 

"Now, sir, " said Vargrave, to Maltravers, "I am willing to leave you inpossession of the field. Miss Cameron, it will be, I fear, impossiblefor me to entertain any longer the bright hopes I had once formed; mycruel fate compels me to seek wealth in any matrimonial engagement. Iregret to inform you that you are no longer the great heiress; the wholeof your capital was placed in the hands of Mr. Douce for the completionof the purchase of Lisle Court. Mr. Douce is a bankrupt; he has fled toAmerica. This letter is an express from my lawyer; the house has closedits payments! Perhaps we may hope to obtain sixpence in the pound. I ama loser also; the forfeit money bequeathed to me is gone. I know notwhether, as your trustee, I am not accountable for the loss of yourfortune (drawn out on my responsibility); probably so. But as I have notnow a shilling in the world, I doubt whether Mr. Maltravers will adviseyou to institute proceedings against me. Mr. Maltravers, to-morrow, atnine o'clock, I will listen to what you have to say. I wish you allgood-night. " He bowed, seized his hat, and vanished. 

"Evelyn, " said Aubrey, "can you require to learn more; do you not alreadyfeel you are released from union with a man without heart and honour?"

"Yes, yes! I am so happy!" cried Evelyn, bursting into tears. "Thishated wealth, --I feel not its loss; I am released from all duty to mybenefactor. I am free!"

The last tie that had yet united the guilty Caroline to Vargrave wasbroken, --a woman forgives sin in her lover, but never meanness. Thedegrading, the abject position in which she had seen one whom she hadserved as a slave (though, as yet, all his worst villanies were unknownto her), filled her with shame, horror, and disgust. She rose abruptly, and quitted the room. They did not miss her. 

Maltravers approached Evelyn; he took her hand, and pressed it to hislips and heart. 

"Evelyn, " said he, mournfully, "you require an explanation, --to-morrow Iwill give and seek it. To-night we are both too unnerved for suchcommunications. I can only now feel joy at your escape, and hope that Imay still minister to your future happiness. "

"But, " said Aubrey, "can we believe this new and astounding statement?Can this loss be so irremediable; may we not yet take precaution, andsave, at least, some wrecks of this noble fortune?"

"I thank you for recalling me to the world, " said Maltravers, eagerly. "I will see to it this instant; and tomorrow, Evelyn, after my interviewwith you, I will hasten to London, and act in that capacity still left tome, --your guardian, your friend. "

He turned away his face, and hurried to the door. 

Evelyn clung more closely to Aubrey. "But you will not leave meto-night? You can stay? We can find you accommodation; do not leaveme. "

"Leave you, my child! no; we have a thousand things to say to each other. I will not, " he added in a whisper, turning to Maltravers, "forestallyour communications. "

CHAPTER III. 

 ALACK, 'tis he. Why, he was met even now As mad as the vexed sea. --_Lear_. 

IN the Rue de la Paix there resided an English lawyer of eminence, withwhom Maltravers had had previous dealings; to this gentleman he nowdrove. He acquainted him with the news he had just heard, respecting thebankruptcy of Mr. Douce; and commissioned him to leave Paris, the firstmoment he could obtain a passport, and to proceed to London. 

At all events, he would arrive there some hours before Maltravers; andthose hours were something gained. This done, he drove to the nearesthotel, which chanced to be the Hotel de M-----, where, though he knew itnot, it so happened that Lord Vargrave himself lodged. As his carriagestopped without, while the porter unclosed the gates, a man, who had beenloitering under the lamps, darted forward, and prying into thecarriage-window, regarded Maltravers earnestly. The latter, pre-occupiedand absorbed, did not notice him; but when the carriage drove into thecourtyard it was followed by the stranger, who was muffled in a worn andtattered cloak, and whose movements were unheeded amidst the bustle ofthe arrival. The porter's wife led the way to a second-floor, just leftvacant, and the waiter began to arrange the fire. Maltravers threwhimself abstractedly upon the sofa, insensible to all around him, when, lifting his eyes, he saw before him the countenance of Cesarini! TheItalian (supposed, perhaps, by the persons of the hotel to be one of thenewcomers) was leaning over the back of a chair, supporting his face withhis hand, and fixing his eyes with an earnest and sorrowful expressionupon the features of his ancient rival. When he perceived that he wasrecognized, he approached Maltravers, and said in Italian, and in a lowvoice, "You are the man of all others, whom, save one, I most desired tosee. I have much to say to you, and my time is short. Spare me a fewminutes. "

The tone and manner of Cesarini were so calm and rational that theychanged the first impulse of Maltravers, which was that of securing amaniac; while the Italian's emaciated countenance, his squalid garments, the air of penury and want diffused over his whole appearance, irresistibly invited compassion. With all the more anxious and pressingthoughts that weighed upon him, Maltravers could not refuse theconference thus demanded. He dismissed the attendants, and motionedCesarini to be seated. 

The Italian drew near to the fire, which now blazed brightly andcheerily, and, spreading his thin hands to the flame, seemed to enjoy thephysical luxury of the warmth. "Cold, cold, " he said piteously, as tohimself; "Nature is a very bitter protector. But frost and famine are, at least, more merciful than slavery and darkness. "

At this moment Ernest's servant entered to know if his master would nottake refreshments, for he had scarcely touched food upon the road. Andas he spoke, Cesarini turned keenly and wistfully round. There was nomistaking the appeal. Wine and cold meat were ordered: and when theservant vanished, Cesarini turned to Maltravers with a strange smile, andsaid, "You see what the love of liberty brings men to! They found meplenty in the jail! But I have read of men who feasted merrily beforeexecution--have not you?--and my hour is at hand. All this day I havefelt chained by an irresistible destiny to this house. But it was notyou I sought; no matter, in the crisis of our doom all its agents meettogether. It is the last act of a dreary play!"

The Italian turned again to the fire, and bent over it, muttering tohimself. 

Maltravers remained silent and thoughtful. Now was the moment once moreto place the maniac under the kindly vigilance of his family, to snatchhim from the horrors, perhaps, of starvation itself, to which his escapecondemned him: if he could detain Cesarini till De Montaigne couldarrive!

Agreeably to this thought, he quietly drew towards him the portfoliowhich had been laid on the table, and, Cesarini's back still turned tohim, wrote a hasty line to De Montaigne. When his servant re-enteredwith the wine and viands, Maltravers followed him out of the room, andbade him see the note sent immediately. On returning, he found Cesarinidevouring the food before him with all the voracity of famine. It was adreadful sight!--the intellect ruined, the mind darkened, the wild, fierce animal alone left!

When Cesarini had appeased his hunger, he drew near to Maltravers, andthus accosted him, --

"I must lead you back to the past. I sinned against you and the dead;but Heaven has avenged you, and me you can pity and forgive. Maltravers, there is another more guilty than I, --but proud, prosperous, and great. _His_ crime Heaven has left to the revenge of man! I bound myself by anoath not to reveal his villany. I cancel the oath now, for the knowledgeof it should survive his life and mine. And, mad though they deem me, the mad are prophets, and a solemn conviction, a voice not of earth, tells me that he and I are already in the Shadow of Death. "

Here Cesarini, with a calm and precise accuracy of self-possession, --aminuteness of circumstance and detail, that, coming from one whose veryeyes betrayed his terrible disease, was infinitely thrilling in itseffect, --related the counsels, the persuasions, the stratagems of Lumley. Slowly and distinctly he forced into the heart of Maltravers thatsickening record of cold fraud calculating on vehement passion as itstool; and thus he concluded his narration, --

"Now wonder no longer why I have lived till this hour; why I have clungto freedom, through want and hunger, amidst beggars, felons, andoutcasts! In that freedom was my last hope, --the hope of revenge!"

Maltravers returned no answer for some moments. At length he saidcalmly, "Cesarini, there are injuries so great that they defy revenge. Let us alike, since we are alike injured, trust our cause to Him whoreads all hearts, and, better than we can do, measures both crime and itsexcuses. You think that our enemy has not suffered, --that he has gonefree. We know not his internal history; prosperity and power are nosigns of happiness, they bring no exemption from care. Be soothed and beruled, Cesarini. Let the stone once more close over the solemn grave. Turn with me to the future; and let us rather seek to be the judges ofourselves, than the executioners of another. "

Cesarini listened gloomily, and was about to answer, when--

But here we must return to Lord Vargrave. 

CHAPTER IV. 

 MY noble lord, Your worthy friends do lack you. --_Macbeth_. 

 He is about it; The doors are open. --_Ibid. _

ON quitting Lady Doltimore's house, Lumley drove to his hotel. Hissecretary had been the bearer of other communications, with the nature ofwhich he had not yet acquainted himself; but he saw by thesuperscriptions that they were of great importance. Still, however, evenin the solitude and privacy of his own chamber, it was not on the instantthat he could divert his thoughts from the ruin of his fortunes: the lossnot only of Evelyn's property, but his own claims upon it (for the wholecapital had been placed in Douce's hands), the total wreck of his grandscheme, the triumph he had afforded to Maltravers! He ground his teethin impotent rage, and groaned aloud, as he traversed his room with hastyand uneven strides. At last he paused and muttered: "Well, the spidertoils on even when its very power of weaving fresh webs is exhausted; itlies in wait, --it forces itself into the webs of others. Brave insect, thou art my model! While I have breath in my body, the world and all itscrosses, Fortune and all her malignity, shall not prevail against me!What man ever yet failed until he himself grew craven, and sold his soulto the arch fiend, Despair! 'Tis but a girl and a fortune lost, --theywere gallantly fought for, that is some comfort. Now to what is yet leftto me!"

The first letter Lumley opened was from Lord Saxingham. It filled himwith dismay. The question at issue had been formally, but abruptly, decided in the Cabinet against Vargrave and his manoeuvres. Some hastyexpressions of Lord Saxingham had been instantly caught at by thepremier, and a resignation, rather hinted at than declared, had beenperemptorily accepted. Lord Saxingham and Lumley's adherents in theGovernment were to a man dismissed; and at the time Lord Saxingham wrotethe premier was with the king. 

"Curse their folly!--the puppets! the dolts!" exclaimed Lumley, crushingthe letter in his hand. "The moment I leave them, they run their headsagainst the wall. Curse them! curse myself! curse the man who weavesropes with sand! Nothing--nothing left for me but exile or suicide!Stay, what is this?" His eye fell on the well-known hand writing of thepremier. He tore the envelope, impatient to know the worst. His eyessparkled as he proceeded. The letter was most courteous, mostcomplimentary, most wooing. The minister was a man consummately versedin the arts that increase, as well as those which purge, a party. Saxingham and his friends were imbeciles, incapables, mostly men who hadoutlived their day. But Lord Vargrave, in the prime of life--versatile, accomplished, vigorous, bitter, unscrupulous--Vargrave was of anothermould, Vargrave was to be dreaded; and therefore, if possible, to beretained. His powers of mischief were unquestionably increased by theuniversal talk of London that he was about soon to wed so wealthy a lady. The minister knew his man. In terms of affected regret, he alluded tothe loss the Government would sustain in the services of Lord Saxingham, etc. ; he rejoiced that Lord Vargrave's absence from London had preventedhis being prematurely mixed up, by false scruples of honour, insecessions which his judgment must condemn. He treated of the questionin dispute with the most delicate address, --confessed the reasonablenessof Lord Vargrave's former opposition to it; but contended that it wasnow, if not wise, inevitable. He said nothing of the _justice_ of themeasure he proposed to adopt, but much on the _expediency_. He concludedby offering to Vargrave, in the most cordial and flattering terms, thevery seat in the Cabinet which Lord Saxingham had vacated, with anapology for its inadequacy to his lordship's merits, and a distinct anddefinite promise of the refusal of the gorgeous viceroyalty of India, which would be vacant next year by the return of the presentgovernor-general. 

Unprincipled as Vargrave was, it is not, perhaps, judging him too mildlyto say that, had he succeeded in obtaining Evelyn's hand and fortune, hewould have shrunk from the baseness he now meditated. To step coldlyinto the very post of which he, and he alone, had been the cause ofdepriving his earliest patron and nearest relative; to profit by thebetrayal of his own party; to damn himself eternally in the eyes of hisancient friends; to pass down the stream of history as a mercenaryapostate, --from all this Vargrave must have shrunk, had he seen one spotof honest ground on which to maintain his footing. But now the waters ofthe abyss were closing over his head; he would have caught at a straw;how much more consent to be picked up by the vessel of an enemy! Allobjection, all scruple, vanished at once. And the "barbaric gold" "ofOrmus and of Ind" glittered before the greedy eyes of the pennilessadventurer! Not a day was now to be lost. How fortunate that a writtenproposition, from which it was impossible to recede, had been made to himbefore the failure of his matrimonial projects had become known! Toohappy to quit Paris, he would set off on the morrow, and conclude inperson the negotiation. Vargrave glanced towards the clock; it wasscarcely past eleven. What revolutions are worked in moments! Within anhour he had lost a wife, a noble fortune, changed the politics of hiswhole life, stepped into a Cabinet office, and was already calculatinghow much a governor-general of India could lay by in five years! But itwas only eleven o'clock. He had put off Mr. Howard's visit till twelve;he wished so much to see him, and learn all the London gossip connectedwith the recent events. Poor Mr. Douce! Vargrave had already forgotten_his_ existence!--he rang his bell hastily. It was some time before hisservant answered. 

Promptitude and readiness were virtues that Lord Vargrave peremptorilydemanded in a servant; and as he paid the best price for thearticles--less in wages than in plunder--he was generally sure to obtainthem. 

"Where the deuce have you been? This is the third time I have rung! youought to be in the anteroom!"

"I beg your lordship's pardon; but I was helping Mr. Maltravers's valetto find a key which he dropped in the courtyard. "

"Mr. Maltravers! Is he at this hotel?"

"Yes, my lord; his rooms are just overhead. "

"Humph! Has Mr. Howard engaged a lodging here?"

"No, my lord. He left word that he was gone to his aunt, Lady Jane. "

"Ah, Lady Jane--lives at Paris--so she does; Rue Chaussee d'Antin--youknow the House? Go immediately--go yourself; don't trust to amessenger--and beg Mr. Howard to return with you. I want to see himinstantly. "

"Yes, my lord. "

The servant went. Lumley was in a mood in which solitude wasintolerable. He was greatly excited; and some natural compunctions atthe course on which he had decided made him long to escape from thought. So Maltravers was under the same roof! He had promised to give him aninterview next day; but next day he wished to be on the road to London. Why not have it over to-night? But could Maltravers meditate any hostileproceedings? Impossible! Whatever his causes of complaint, they were oftoo delicate and secret a nature for seconds, bullets, and newspaperparagraphs! Vargrave might feel secure that he should not be delayed byany Bois de Boulogne assignation; but it was necessary to _his honour_(!) that he should not seem to shun the man he had deceived and wronged. He would go up to him at once, --a new excitement would distract histhoughts. Agreeably to this resolution, Lord Vargrave quitted his room, and was about to close the outer door, when he recollected that perhapshis servant might not meet with Howard; that the secretary might probablyarrive before the time fixed, --it would be as well to leave his dooropen. He accordingly stopped, and writing upon a piece of paper, "DearHoward, send up for me the moment you arrive: I shall be with Mr. Maltravers _au second_"--Vargrave wafered the _affiche_ to the door, which he then left ajar, and the lamp in the landing-place fell clear andfull on the paper. 

It was the voice of Vargrave, in the little stone-paved antechamberwithout, inquiring of the servant if Mr. Maltravers was at home, whichhad startled and interrupted Cesarini as he was about to reply to Ernest. Each recognized that sharp clear voice; each glanced at the other. 

"I will not see him, " said Maltravers, hastily moving towards the door;"you are not fit to--"

"Meet him? no!" said Cesarini, with a furtive and sinister glance, whicha man versed in his disease would have understood, but which Maltraversdid not even observe; "I will retire into your bedroom; my eyes areheavy. I could sleep. "

He opened the inner door as he spoke, and had scarcely reclosed it beforeVargrave entered. 

"Your servant said you were engaged; but I thought you might see an oldfriend:" and Vargrave coolly seated himself. 

Maltravers drew the bolt across the door that separated them fromCesarini; and the two men, whose characters and lives were so stronglycontrasted, were now alone. 

"You wished an interview, --an explanation, " said Lumley; "I shrink fromneither. Let me forestall inquiry and complaint. I deceived youknowingly and deliberately, it is quite true, --all stratagems are fair inlove and war. The prize was vast! I believed my career depended on it:I could not resist the temptation. I knew that before long you wouldlearn that Evelyn was not your daughter; that the first communicationbetween yourself and Lady Vargrave would betray me; but it was worthtrying a _coup de main_. You have foiled me, and conquered: be it so; Icongratulate you. You are tolerably rich, and the loss of Evelyn'sfortune will not vex you as it would have done me. "

"Lord Vargrave, it is but poor affectation to treat thus lightly the darkfalsehood you conceived, the awful curse you inflicted upon me. Yoursight is now so painful to me, it so stirs the passions that I would seekto suppress, that the sooner our interview is terminated the better. Ihave to charge you, also, with a crime, --not, perhaps, baser than the oneyou so calmly own, but the consequences of which were more fatal: youunderstand me?"

"I do not. "

"Do not tempt me! do not lie!" said Maltravers, still in a calm voice, though his passions, naturally so strong, shook his whole frame. "Toyour arts I owe the exile of years that should have been better spent; tothose arts Cesarini owes the wreck of his reason, and Florence Lascellesher early grave! Ah, you are pale now; your tongue cleaves to yourmouth! And think you these crimes will go forever unrequited; think youthat there is no justice in the thunderbolts of God?"

"Sir, " said Vargrave, starting to his feet, "I know not what you suspect, I care not what you believe! But I am accountable to man, and thataccount I am willing to render. You threatened me in the presence of myward; you spoke of cowardice, and hinted at danger. Whatever my faults, want of courage is not one. Stand by your threats, --I am ready to bravethem!"

"A year, perhaps a short month, ago, " replied Maltravers, and I wouldhave arrogated justice to my own mortal hand; nay, this very night, hadthe hazard of either of our lives been necessary to save Evelyn from yourpersecution, I would have incurred all things for her sake! But that ispast; from me you have nothing to fear. The proofs of your earlierguilt, with its dreadful results, would alone suffice to warn me from thesolemn responsibility of human vengeance. Great Heaven! what hand coulddare to send a criminal so long hardened, so black with crime, unatoning, unrepentant, and unprepared, before the judgment-seat of the ALL JUST?Go, unhappy man! may life long be spared to you! Awake! awake from thisworld, before your feet pass the irrevocable boundary of the next!"

"I came not here to listen to homilies, and the cant of the conventicle, "said Vargrave, vainly struggling for a haughtiness of mien that hisconscience-stricken aspect terribly belied; "not I; but this wrong worldis to be blamed, if deeds that strict morality may not justify, but theeffects of which I, no prophet, could not foresee, were necessary forsuccess in life. I have been but as all other men have been who struggleagainst fortune to be rich and great: ambition must make use of foulladders. "

"Oh, " said Maltravers, earnestly, touched involuntarily, and in spite ofhis abhorrence of the criminal, by the relenting that this miserableattempt at self-justification seemed to denote, --"oh, be warned, while itis yet time; wrap not yourself in these paltry sophistries; look back toyour past career; see to what heights you might have climbed, if withthose rare gifts and energies, with that subtle sagacity and indomitablecourage--your ambition had but chosen the straight, not the crooked, path. Pause! many years may yet, in the course of nature, afford youtime to retrace your steps, to atone to thousands the injuries you haveinflicted on the few. I know not why I thus address you: but somethingdiviner than indignation urges me; something tells me that you arealready on the brink of the abyss!"

Lord Vargrave changed colour, nor did he speak for some moments; thenraising his head, with a faint smile, he said, "Maltravers, you are afalse soothsayer. At this moment my paths, crooked though they be, haveled me far towards the summit of my proudest hopes; the straight pathwould have left me at the foot of the mountain. You yourself are abeacon against the course you advise. Let us contrast each other. Youtook the straight path, I the crooked. You, my superior in fortune; you, infinitely above me in genius; you, born to command and never to crouch:how do we stand now, each in the prime of life? You, with a barren andprofitless reputation; without rank, without power, almost without thehope of power. I--but you know not my new dignity--I, in the Cabinet ofEngland's ministry, vast fortunes opening to my gaze, the proudeststation not too high for my reasonable ambition! You, wedding yourselfto some grand chimera of an object, aimless when it eludes your grasp. I, swinging, squirrel-like, from scheme to scheme; no matter if onebreaks, another is at hand! Some men would have cut their throats indespair, an hour ago, in losing the object of a seven years'chase, --Beauty and Wealth, both! I open a letter, and find success inone quarter to counterbalance failure in another. Bah! bah! each to his_metier_, Maltravers! For you, honour, melancholy, and, if it pleaseyou, repentance also! For me, the onward, rushing life, never lookingback to the Past, never balancing the stepping-stones to the Future. Letus not envy each other; if you were not Diogenes, you would be Alexander. Adieu! our interview is over. Will you forget and forgive, and shakehands once more? You draw back, you frown! well, perhaps you are right. If we meet again--"

"It will be as strangers. "

"No rash vows! you may return to politics, you may want office. I am ofyour way of thinking now: and--ha! ha!--poor Lumley Ferrers could makeyou a Lord of the Treasury; smooth travelling and cheap turnpikes oncrooked paths, believe me. Farewell!"

On entering the room into which Cesarini had retired, Maltravers foundhim flown. His servant said that the gentleman had gone away shortlyafter Lord Vargrave's arrival. Ernest reproached himself bitterly forneglecting to secure the door that conducted to the ante-chamber; butstill it was probable that Cesarini would return in the morning. 

The messenger who had taken the letter to De Montaigne brought back wordthat the latter was at his villa, but expected at Paris early the nextday. Maltravers hoped to see him before his departure; meanwhile hethrew himself on his bed, and despite all the anxieties that yetoppressed him, the fatigues and excitements he had undergone exhaustedeven the endurance of that iron frame, and he fell into a profoundslumber. 

CHAPTER V. 

 BY eight to-morrow Thou shalt be made immortal. _Measure for Measure_. 

LORD VARGRAVE returned to his apartment to find Mr. Howard, who had butjust that instant arrived, warming his white and well-ringed hands by thefire. He conversed with him for half an hour on all the topics on whichthe secretary could give him information, and then dismissed him oncemore to the roof of Lady Jane. 

As he slowly undressed himself, he saw on his writing-table the notewhich Lady Doltimore had referred to, and which he had not yet opened. He lazily broke the seal, ran his eye carelessly over its few blottedwords of remorse and alarm, and threw it down again with a contemptuous"pshaw!" Thus unequally are the sorrows of a guilty tie felt by the manof the world and the woman of society!

As his servant placed before him his wine and water, Vargrave told him tosee early to the preparations for departure, and to call him at nineo'clock. 

"Shall I shut that door, my lord?" said the valet, pointing to one thatcommunicated with one of those large closets, or _armoires_, that arecommon appendages to French bedrooms, and in which wood and sundry othermatters are kept. 

"No, " said Lord Vargrave, petulantly; "you servants are so fond ofexcluding every breath of air. I should never have a window open, if Idid not open it myself. Leave the door as it is, and do not be laterthan nine to-morrow. "

The servant, who slept in a kind of kennel that communicated with theanteroom, did as he was bid; and Vargrave put out his candle, betookhimself to bed, and, after drowsily gazing some minutes on the dyingembers of the fire, which threw a dim ghastly light over the chamber, fell fast asleep. The clock struck the first hour of morning, and inthat house all seemed still. 

The next morning, Maltravers was disturbed from his slumber by DeMontaigne, who, arriving, as was often his wont, at an early hour fromhis villa, had found Ernest's note of the previous evening. 

Maltravers rose and dressed himself; and while De Montaigne was yetlistening to the account which his friend gave of his adventure withCesarini, and the unhappy man's accusation of his accomplice, Ernest'sservant entered the room very abruptly. 

"Sir, " said he, "I thought you might like to know. What is to be done?The whole hotel is in confusion, Mr. Howard has been sent for, and LordDoltimore. So very strange, so sudden!"

"What is the matter? Speak plain. "

"Lord Vargrave, sir, --poor Lord Vargrave--"

"Lord Vargrave!"

"Yes, sir; the master of the hotel, hearing you knew his lordship, wouldbe so glad if you would come down. Lord Vargrave, sir, is dead, --founddead in his bed!"

Maltravers was rooted to the spot with amaze and horror. Dead! and butlast night so full of life and schemes and hope and ambition. 

As soon as he recovered himself, he hurried to the spot, and De Montaignefollowed. The latter, as they descended the stairs, laid his hand onErnest's arm and detained him. 

"Did you say that Castruccio left the apartment while Vargrave was withyou, and almost immediately after his narrative of Vargrave's instigationto his crime?"

"Yes. "

The eyes of the friends met; a terrible suspicion possessed both. "No;it is impossible!" exclaimed Maltravers. "How could he obtain entrance, how pass Lord Vargrave's servants? No, no; think of it not!"

They hurried down the stairs; they reached the other door of Vargrave'sapartment. The notice to Howard, with the name of Vargrave underscored, was still on the panels. De Montaigne saw and shuddered. 

They were in the room by the bedside. A group were collected round; theygave way as the Englishman and his friend approached; and the eyes ofMaltravers suddenly rested on the face of Lord Vargrave, which waslocked, rigid, and convulsed. 

There was a buzz of voices which had ceased at the entrance ofMaltravers; it was now renewed. A surgeon had been summoned--the nearestsurgeon, --a young Englishman of no great repute or name. He was makinginquiries as he bent over the corpse. 

"Yes, sir, " said Lord Vargrave's servant, "his lordship told me to callhim at nine o'clock. I came in at that hour, but his lordship did notmove nor answer me. I then looked to see if he were very sound asleep, and I saw that the pillows had got somehow over his face, and his headseemed to lie very low; so I moved the pillows, and I saw that hislordship was dead. "

"Sir, " said the surgeon, turning to Maltravers, "you were a friend of hislordship, I hear. I have already sent for Mr. Howard and Lord Doltimore. Shall I speak with you a minute?"

Maltravers nodded assent. The surgeon cleared the room of all buthimself, De Montaigne, and Maltravers. 

"Has that servant lived long with Lord Vargrave?" asked the surgeon. 

"I believe so, --yes; I recollect his face. Why?"

"And you think him safe and honest?"

"I don't know; I know nothing of him. "

"Look here, sir, "--and the surgeon pointed to a slight discoloration onone side the throat of the dead man. "This may be accidental--purelynatural; his lordship may have died in a fit; there are no certain marksof outward violence, but murder by suffocation might still--"

"But who besides the servant could gain admission? Was the outer doorclosed?"

"The servant can take oath that he shut the door before going to bed, andthat no one was with his lordship, or in the rooms, when Lord Vargraveretired to rest. Entrance from the windows is impossible. Mind, sir, Ido not think I have any right to suspect any one. His lordship had beenin very ill health a short time before; had had, I hear, a rush of bloodto the head. Certainly, if the servant be innocent, we can suspect noone else. You had better send for more experienced practitioners. "

De Montaigne, who had hitherto said nothing, now looked with a hurriedglance around the room: he perceived the closet-door, which was ajar, andrushed to it, as by an involuntary impulse. The closet was large, but aconsiderable pile of wood, and some lumber of odd chairs and tables, tookup a great part of the space. De Montaigne searched behind and amidstthis litter with trembling haste, --no trace of secreted murder wasvisible. He returned to the bedroom with a satisfied and relievedexpression of countenance. He then compelled himself to approach thebody, from which he had hitherto recoiled. 

"Sir, " said he, almost harshly, as he turned to the surgeon, "what idledoubts are these? Cannot men die in their beds, of sudden death, noblood to stain their pillows, no loop-hole for crime to pass through, butwe must have science itself startling us with silly terrors? As for theservant, I will answer for his innocence; his manner, his voice attestit. " The surgeon drew back, abashed and humbled, and began to apologize, to qualify, when Lord Doltimore abruptly entered. 

"Good heavens!" said he, "what is this? What do I hear? Is it possible?Dead! So suddenly!" He cast a hurried glance at the body, shivered, andsickened, and threw himself into a chair, as if to recover the shock. When again he removed his hand from his face, he saw lying before him onthe table an open note. The character was familiar; his own name struckhis eye, --it was the note which Caroline had sent the day before. As noone heeded him, Lord Doltimore read on, and possessed himself of theproof of his wife's guilt unseen. 

The surgeon, now turning from De Montaigne, who had been rating himsoundly for the last few moments, addressed himself to Lord Doltimore. "Your lordship, " said he, "was, I hear, Lord Vargrave's most intimatefriend at Paris. "

"I _his_ intimate friend?" said Doltimore, colouring highly, and in adisdainful accent. "Sir, you are misinformed. "

"Have you no orders to give, then, my lord?"

"None, sir. My presence here is quite useless. Good-day to you, gentlemen. "

"With whom, then, do the last duties rest?" said the surgeon, turning toMaltravers and De Montaigne. "With the late lord's secretary?--I expecthim every moment; and here he is, I suppose, "--as Mr. Howard, pale, andevidently overcome by his agitation, entered the apartment. Perhaps, ofall the human beings whom the ambitious spirit of that senseless clay haddrawn around it by the webs of interest, affection, or intrigue, thatyoung man, whom it had never been a temptation to Vargrave to deceive orinjure, and who missed only the gracious and familiar patron, mournedmost his memory, and defended most his character. The grief of the poorsecretary was now indeed overmastering. He sobbed and wept like a child. 

When Maltravers retired from the chamber of death, De Montaigneaccompanied him; but soon quitting him again, as Ernest bent his way toEvelyn, he quietly rejoined Mr. Howard, who readily grasped at his offersof aid in the last melancholy duties and directions. 

CHAPTER VI. 

 IF we do meet again, why, we shall smile. --_Julius Caesar_. 

THE interview with Evelyn was long and painful. It was reserved forMaltravers to break to her the news of the sudden death of Lord Vargrave, which shocked her unspeakably; and this, which made their first topic, removed much constraint and deadened much excitement in those whichfollowed. 

Vargrave's death served also to relieve Maltravers from a most anxiousembarrassment. He need no longer fear that Alice would be degraded inthe eyes of Evelyn. Henceforth the secret that identified the erringAlice Darvil with the spotless Lady Vargrave was safe, known only to Mrs. Leslie and to Aubrey. In the course of nature, all chance of itsdisclosure must soon die with them; and should Alice at last become hiswife, and should Cleveland suspect (which was not probable) thatMaltravers had returned to his first love, he knew that he might dependon the inviolable secrecy of his earliest friend. 

The tale that Vargrave had told to Evelyn of his early--but, according tothat tale, guiltless--passion for Alice, he tacitly confirmed; and heallowed that the recollection of her virtues, and the intelligence of hersorrows and unextinguishable affection, had made him recoil from amarriage with her supposed daughter. He then proceeded to amaze hisyoung listener with the account of the mode in which he had discoveredher real parentage, of which the banker had left it to Alice's discretionto inform her, after she had attained the age of eighteen. And then, simply, but with manly and ill-controlled emotion, he touched upon thejoy of Alice at beholding him again, upon the endurance and fervour ofher love, upon her revulsion of feeling at learning that, in herunforgotten lover, she beheld the recent suitor of her adopted child. 

"And now, " said Maltravers, in conclusion, "the path to both of usremains the same. To Alice is our first duty. The discovery I have madeof your real parentage does not diminish the claims which Alice has onme, does not lessen the grateful affection that is due to her fromyourself. Yes, Evelyn, we are not the less separated forever. But whenI learned the wilful falsehood which the unhappy man, now hurried to hislast account, to whom your birth was known, had imposed upon me, --namely, that you were the child of Alice, --and when I learned also that you hadbeen hurried into accepting his hand, I trembled at your union with oneso false and base. I came hither resolved to frustrate his schemes andto save you from an alliance, the motives of which I foresaw, and towhich my own letter, my own desertion, had perhaps urged you. Newvillanies on the part of this most perverted man came to my ear: but heis dead; let us spare his memory. For you--oh, still let me deem myselfyour friend, --your more than brother; let me hope now that I have plantedno thorn in that breast, and that your affection does not shrink from thecold word of friendship. "

"Of all the wonders that you have told me, " answered Evelyn, as soon asshe could recover the power of words, "my most poignant sorrow is, that Ihave no rightful claim to give a daughter's love to her whom I shall everidolize as my mother. Oh, now I see why I thought her affection measuredand lukewarm. And have I--I destroyed her joy at seeing you again? Butyou--you will hasten to console, to reassure her! She loves youstill, --she will be happy at last; and that--that thought--oh, thatthought compensates for all!"

There was so much warmth and simplicity in Evelyn's artless manner, itwas so evident that her love for him had not been of that ardent naturewhich would at first have superseded every other thought in the anguishof losing him forever, that the scale fell from the eyes of Maltravers, and he saw at once that his own love had blinded him to the truecharacter of hers. He was human; and a sharp pang shot across hisbreast. He remained silent for some moments; and then resumed, compelling himself as he spoke to fix his eyes steadfastly on hers. 

"And now, Evelyn--still may I so call you?--I have a duty to discharge toanother. You are loved"--and he smiled, but the smile was sad--"by ayounger and more suitable lover than I am. From noble and generousmotives he suppressed that love, --he left you to a rival; the rivalremoved, dare he venture to explain to you his own conduct, and plead hisown motives? George Legard--" Maltravers paused. The cheek on which hegazed was tinged with a soft blush, Evelyn's eyes were downcast, therewas a slight heaving beneath the robe. 

Maltravers suppressed a sigh and continued. He narrated his interviewwith Legard at Dover; and, passing lightly over what had chanced atVenice, dwelt with generous eloquence on the magnanimity with which hisrival's gratitude had been displayed. Evelyn's eyes sparkled, and thesmile just visited the rosy lips and vanished again. The worst becauseit was the least selfish fear of Maltravers was gone, and no vain doubtof Evelyn's too keen regret remained to chill his conscience in obeyingits earliest and strongest duties. 

"Farewell!" he said, as he rose to depart; "I will at once return toLondon, and assist in the effort to save your fortune from this generalwreck: LIFE calls us back to its cares and business--farewell, Evelyn!Aubrey will, I trust, remain with you still. "

"Remain! Can I not return then to my--to her--yes, let me call her_mother_ still?"

"Evelyn, " said Maltravers, in a very low voice, "spare me, spare her thatpain! Are we yet fit to--" He paused; Evelyn comprehended him, andhiding her face with her hands, burst into tears. 

When Maltravers left the room, he was met by Aubrey, who, drawing himaside, told him that Lord Doltimore had just informed him that it was nothis intention to remain at Paris, and had more than delicately hinted ata wish for the departure of Miss Cameron. In this emergency, Maltraversbethought himself of Madame de Ventadour. 

No house in Paris was a more eligible refuge, no friend more zealous; noprotector would be more kind, no adviser more sincere. To her then hehastened. He briefly informed her of Vargrave's sudden death; andsuggested that for Evelyn to return at once to a sequestered village inEngland might be a severe trial to spirits already broken; and declaredtruly, that though his marriage with Evelyn was broken off, her welfarewas no less dear to him than heretofore. At his first hint, Valerie, whotook a cordial interest in Evelyn for her own sake, ordered her carriage, and drove at once to Lady Doltimore's. His lordship was out, herladyship was ill, in her own room, could see no one, not even her guest. Evelyn in vain sent up to request an interview; and at last, contentingherself with an affectionate note of farewell, accompanied Aubrey to thehome of her new hostess. 

Gratified at least to know her with one who would be sure to win heraffection and soothe her spirits, Maltravers set out on his solitaryreturn to England. 

Whatever suspicious circumstances might or might not have attended thedeath of Lord Vargrave, certain it is that no evidence confirmed and nopopular rumour circulated them. His late illness, added to the supposedshock of the loss of the fortune he had anticipated with Miss Cameron, aided by the simultaneous intelligence of the defeat of the party withwhom it was believed he had indissolubly entwined his ambition, sufficedto account satisfactorily enough for the melancholy event. De Montaigne, who had been long, though not intimately, acquainted with the deceased, took upon himself all the necessary arrangements, and superintended thefuneral; after which ceremony, Howard returned to London; and in Paris, as in the grave, all things are forgotten! But still in De Montaigne'sbreast there dwelt a horrible fear. As soon as he had learned fromMaltravers the charge the maniac brought against Vargrave, there cameupon him the recollection of that day when Cesarini had attempted DeMontaigne's life, evidently mistaking him in his delirium foranother, --and the sullen, cunning, and ferocious character which theinsanity had ever afterwards assumed. He had learned from Howard thatthe outer door had been left ajar when Lord Vargrave was with Maltravers. The writing on the panel, the name of Vargrave, would have struckCastruccio's eye as he descended the stairs; the servant was from home, the apartments deserted; he might have won his way into the bedchamber, concealed himself in the _armoire_, and in the dead of the night, and inthe deep and helpless sleep of his victim, have done the deed. What needof weapons--the suffocating pillows would stop speech and life. What soeasy as escape, --to pass into the anteroom; to unbolt the door; todescend into the courtyard; to give the signal to the porter in hislodge, who, without seeing him, would pull the _cordon_, and give himegress unobserved?

All this was so possible, so probable. 

De Montaigne now withdrew all inquiry for the unfortunate; he trembled atthe thought of discovering him, of verifying his awful suspicions, ofbeholding a murderer in the brother of his wife! But he was not doomedlong to entertain fear for Cesarini; he was not fated ever to changesuspicion into certainty. A few days after Lord Vargrave's burial, acorpse was drawn from the Seine. Some tablets in the pockets, scrawledover with wild, incoherent verses, gave a clew to the discovery of thedead man's friends: and, exposed at the Morgue, in that bleached andaltered clay, De Montaigne recognized the remains of Castruccio Cesarini. "He died and made no sign!"

CHAPTER VII. 

 SINGULA quaeque locum teneant sortita. *--HORACE: _Ars Poetica_. 

 * "To each lot its appropriate place. "

MALTRAVERS and the lawyers were enabled to save from the insolvent bankbut a very scanty portion of that wealth in which Richard Templeton hadrested so much of pride. The title extinct, the fortune gone--so doesFate laugh at our posthumous ambition! Meanwhile Mr. Douce, withconsiderable plunder, had made his way to America: the bank owed nearlyhalf a million; the purchase money for Lisle Court, which Mr. Douce hadbeen so anxious to get into his clutches, had not sufficed to stave offthe ruin, --but a great part of it sufficed to procure competence forhimself. How inferior in wit, in acuteness, in stratagem, was Douce toVargrave; and yet Douce had gulled him like a child! Well said theshrewd small philosopher of France--"On peut etre plus fin qu'un autre, mais pas plus fin que tous les autres. "*

 * One may be more sharp than one's neighbour, but one can't be sharper than all one's neighbours. --ROCHEFOUCAULD. 

To Legard, whom Maltravers had again encountered at Dover, the latterrelated the downfall of Evelyn's fortunes; and Maltravers loved him whenhe saw that, far from changing his affection, the loss of wealth seemedrather to raise his hopes. They parted; and Legard set out for Paris. 

But was Maltravers all the while forgetful of Alice? He had not beentwelve hours in London before he committed to a long and truthful letterall his thoughts, his hopes, his admiring and profound gratitude. Again, and with solemn earnestness, he implored her to accept his hand, and toconfirm at the altar the tale which had been told to Evelyn. Truly hesaid that the shock which his first belief in Vargrave's falsehood hadoccasioned, his passionate determination to subdue all trace of a lovethen associated with crime and horror, followed so close by his discoveryof Alice's enduring faith and affection, had removed the image of Evelynfrom the throne it had hitherto held in his desires and thoughts; trulyhe said that he was now convinced that Evelyn would soon be consoled forhis loss by another, with whom she would be happier than with him; trulyand solemnly he declared that if Alice rejected him still, if even Alicewere no more, his suit to Evelyn never could be renewed, and Alice'smemory would usurp the place of all living love!

Her answer came: it pierced him to the heart. It was so humble, sograteful, so tender still. Unknown to herself, love yet coloured everyword; but it was love pained, galled, crushed, and trampled on; it waslove, proud from its very depth and purity. His offer was refused. 

Months passed away. Maltravers yet trusted to time. The curate hadreturned to Brook-Green, and his letters fed Ernest's hopes and assuredhis doubts. The more leisure there was left him for reflection, thefainter became those dazzling and rainbow hues in which Evelyn had beenrobed and surrounded, and the brighter the halo that surrounded hisearliest love. The more he pondered on Alice's past history, and thesingular beauty of her faithful attachment, the more he was impressedwith wonder and admiration, the more anxious to secure to his side one towhom Nature had been so bountiful in all the gifts that make woman theangel and star of life. 

Months passed. From Paris the news that Maltravers received confirmedall his expectations, --the suit of Legard had replaced his own. It wasthen that Maltravers began to consider how far the fortune of Evelyn andher destined husband was such as to preclude all anxiety for their futurelot. Fortune is so indeterminate in its gauge and measurement. Money, the most elastic of materials, falls short or exceeds, according to theextent of our wants and desires. With all Legard's good qualities he wasconstitutionally careless and extravagant; and Evelyn was tooinexperienced, and too gentle, perhaps, to correct his tendencies. Maltravers learned that Legard's income was one that required an economywhich he feared that, in spite of all his reformation, Legard might nothave the self-denial to enforce. After some consideration, he resolvedto add secretly to the remains of Evelyn's fortune such a sum as might, being properly secured to herself and children, lessen whatever dangercould arise from the possible improvidence of her husband, and guardagainst the chance of those embarrassments which are among the worstdisturbers of domestic peace. He was enabled to effect this generosityunknown to both of them, as if the sum bestowed were collected from thewrecks of Evelyn's own wealth and the profits of the sale of the housesin C-----, which of course had not been involved in Douce's bankruptcy. And then if Alice were ever his, her jointure, which had been secured onthe property appertaining to the villa at Fulham, would devolve uponEvelyn. Maltravers could never accept what Alice owed to another. PoorAlice! No! not that modest wealth which you had looked upon complacentlyas one day or other to be his. 

Lord Doltimore is travelling in the East, --Lady Doltimore, lessadventurous, has fixed her residence in Rome. She has grown thin, andtaken to antiquities and rouge. Her spirits are remarkably high--not anuncommon effect of laudanum. 

CHAPTER THE LAST. 

 ARRIVED at last Unto the wished haven. --SHAKSPEARE. 

IN the August of that eventful year a bridal party were assembled at thecottage of Lady Vargrave. The ceremony had just been performed, andErnest Maltravers had bestowed upon George Legard the hand of EvelynTempleton. 

If upon the countenance of him who thus officiated as a father to her hehad once wooed as a bride an observant eye might have noted the trace ofmental struggles, it was the trace of struggles past; and the calm hadonce more settled over the silent deeps. He saw from the casement thecarriage that was to bear away the bride to the home of another, --the gayfaces of the village group, whose intrusion was not forbidden, and towhom that solemn ceremonial was but a joyous pageant; and when he turnedonce more to those within the chamber, he felt his hand clasped inLegard's. 

"You have been the preserver of my life, you have been the dispenser ofmy earthly happiness; all now left to me to wish for is, that you mayreceive from Heaven the blessings you have given to others!"

"Legard, never let her know a sorrow that you can guard her from; andbelieve that the husband of Evelyn will be dear to me as a brother!"

And as a brother blesses some younger and orphan sister bequeathed andintrusted to a care that should replace a father's, so Maltravers laidhis hand lightly on Evelyn's golden tresses, and his lips moved inprayer. He ceased; he pressed his last kiss upon her forehead, andplaced her hand in that of her young husband. There was silence; andwhen to the ear of Maltravers it was broken, it was by the wheels of thecarriage that bore away the wife of George Legard!

The spell was dissolved forever. And there stood before the lonely manthe idol of his early youth, Alice, --still, perhaps, as fair, and onceyoung and passionate, as Evelyn; pale, changed, but lovelier than of old, if heavenly patience and holy thought, and the trials that purify andexalt, can shed over human features something more beautiful than bloom. 

The good curate alone was present, besides these two survivors of theerror and the love that make the rapture and the misery of so many of ourkind; and the old man, after contemplating them a moment, stoleunperceived away. 

"Alice, " said Maltravers, and his voice trembled, "hitherto, from motivestoo pure and too noble for the practical affections and ties of life, youhave rejected the hand of the lover of your youth. Here again I imploreyou to be mine! Give to my conscience the balm of believing that I canrepair to you the evils and the sorrows I have brought upon you. Nay, weep not; turn not away. Each of us stands alone; each of us needs theother. In your heart is locked up all my fondest associations, mybrightest memories. In you I see the mirror of what I was when the worldwas new, ere I had found how Pleasure palls upon us, and Ambitiondeceives! And me, Alice--ah, you love me still! Time and absence havebut strengthened the chain that binds us. By the memory of our earlylove, by the grave of our lost child that, had it lived, would haveunited its parents, I implore you to be mine!"

"Too generous!" said Alice, almost sinking beneath the emotions thatshook that gentle spirit and fragile form, "how can I suffer your_compassion_--for it is but compassion--to deceive yourself? You are ofanother station than I believed you. How can you raise the child ofdestitution and guilt to your own rank? And shall I--I--who, Heavenknows! would save you from all regret--bring to you now, when years haveso changed and broken the little charm I could ever have possessed, thisblighted heart and weary spirit? Oh, no, no!" and Alice paused abruptly, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. 

"Be it as you will, " said Maltravers, mournfully; "but, at least, groundyour refusal upon better motives. Say that now, independent in fortune, and attached to the habits you have formed, you would not hazard yourhappiness in my keeping, --perhaps you are right. To _my_ happiness youwould indeed contribute; your sweet voice might charm away many a memoryand many a thought of the baffled years that have intervened since weparted; your image might dissipate the solitude which is closing roundthe Future of a disappointed and anxious life. With you, and with youalone, I might yet find a home, a comforter, a charitable and soothingfriend. This you could give to me; and with a heart and a form alikefaithful to a love that deserved not so enduring a devotion. But I--whatcan I bestow on you? Your station is equal to my own; your fortunesatisfies your simple wants. 'Tis true the exchange is not equal, Alice. Adieu!"

"Cruel!" said Alice, approaching him with timid steps. "If I could--I, so untutored, so unworthy--if I could comfort you in a single care!"

She said no more, but she had said enough; and Maltravers, clasping herto his bosom, felt once more that heart which never, even in thought, hadswerved from its early worship, beating against his own!

He drew her gently into the open air. The ripe and mellow noonday of thelast month of summer glowed upon the odorous flowers, and the broad sea, that stretched beyond and afar, wore upon its solemn waves a golden andhappy smile. 

"And ah, " murmured Alice, softly, as she looked up from his breast, "Iask not if you have loved others since we parted--man's faith is sodifferent from ours--I only ask if you love me now?"

"More! oh, immeasurably more, than in our youngest days!" criedMaltravers, with fervent passion. "More fondly, more reverently, moretrustfully, than I ever loved living being!--even her, in whose youth andinnocence I adored the memory of thee! Here have I found that whichshames and bankrupts the Ideal! Here have I found a virtue, that, comingat once from God and Nature, has been wiser than all my false philosophyand firmer than all my pride! You, cradled by misfortune, --yourchildhood reared amidst scenes of fear and vice, which, while they searedback the intellect, had no pollution for the soul, --your very parent yourtempter and your foe; you, only not a miracle and an angel by the stainof one soft and unconscious error, --you, alike through the equal trialsof poverty and wealth, have been destined to rise above all triumphant;the example of the sublime moral that teaches us with what mysteriousbeauty and immortal holiness the Creator has endowed our human naturewhen hallowed by our human affections! You alone suffice to shatter intodust the haughty creeds of the Misanthrope and Pharisee! And yourfidelity to my erring self has taught me ever to love, to serve, tocompassionate, to respect the community of God's creatures towhich--noble and elevated though you are--you yet belong!"

He ceased, overpowered with the rush of his own thoughts. And Alice wastoo blessed for words. But in the murmur of the sunlit leaves, in thebreath of the summer air, in the song of the exulting birds, and the deepand distant music of the heaven-surrounded seas, there went a melodiousvoice that seemed as if Nature echoed to his words, and blest the reunionof her children. 

Maltravers once more entered upon the career so long suspended. Heentered with an energy more practical and steadfast than the fitfulenthusiasm of former years; and it was noticeable amongst those who knewhim well, that while the firmness of his mind was not impaired, thehaughtiness of his temper was subdued. No longer despising Man as he is, and no longer exacting from all things the ideal of a visionary standard, he was more fitted to mix in the living World, and to minister usefullyto the great objects that refine and elevate our race. His sentimentswere, perhaps, less lofty, but his actions were infinitely moreexcellent, and his theories infinitely more wise. 

Stage after stage we have proceeded with him through the MYSTERIES OFLIFE. The Eleusinia are closed, and the crowning libation poured. 

And Alice!--Will the world blame us if you are left happy at the last?We are daily banishing from our law-books the statutes that disproportionpunishment to crime. Daily we preach the doctrine that we demoralizewherever we strain justice into cruelty. It is time that we should applyto the Social Code the Wisdom we recognize in Legislation! It is timethat we should do away with the punishment of death for inadequateoffences, even in books; it is time that we should allow the morality ofatonement, and permit to Error the right to hope, as the reward ofsubmission to its suffering. Nor let it be thought that the close toAlice's career can offer temptation to the offence of its commencement. Eighteen years of sadness, a youth consumed in silent sorrow over thegrave of Joy, have images that throw over these pages a dark and warningshadow that will haunt the young long after they turn from the tale thatis about to close! If Alice had died of a broken heart, if herpunishment had been more than she could bear, _then_, as in real life, you would have justly condemned my moral; and the human heart, in itspity for the victim, would have lost all recollection of the error. --Mytale is done. 

THE END.