Sir Jasper Carew Part 73

"It were kinder to leave me as I am," replied I. "He who can only awake to sorrow had better be let sleep on."

"Just as you please, my man," rejoined he, gruffly; "though, if I were you, I 'd like to know that my case was not hopeless."

"You fancy that it matters to me whether my sentence be seven years or seventy; whether I be condemned to chains here, or hard labor there, or mere imprisonment without either; but I tell you that for the terms of the penalty I care almost nothing. The degradation of the felon absorbs all the rest. When the law has once separated from all save the guilty, it has done its worst."

This was the second attempt he made to stimulate my curiosity. His third venture was more successful.

"So, Gervois," said he, seating himself opposite me, "they 're on the right scent at last in your business; they're likely to discover the real heir to that property you tried for."

"What do you mean?" asked I.

"Why, it seems somehow there is, or there ought to be somewhere, a young fellow, a son to this same Carew; and if what the newspapers here say be true, his right to the estate can be soon established."

I stared at him with amazement, and he went on.

"Listen to this: 'Our readers cannot fail to remember a very remarkable suit which lately occupied no small share of public attention, by the efforts of a fraudulent conspiracy to undermine the t.i.tle of one of the largest landed proprietors in this kingdom. It would appear now that some very important discoveries have been made in America respecting this claim, particulars of which have been already forwarded to England.

As the parties who have made these discoveries may soon be expected in this country, it is not impossible that we may soon hear of another action of ejectment, although on very different grounds, and with very different results from the late one.'"

A very few days after this there appeared another and still more remarkable paragraph, copied from the "London Chronicle," which ran thus:--

"We mentioned a few days back that an estate, the claim to which was the subject of a late most remarkable lawsuit, was likely again to furnish matter for the occupation of the gentlemen of the long robe. There would seem now to be no doubt upon the subject, as one of the most eminent solicitors in this country has received instructions to take the necessary steps preliminary to a new action at law. The newly discovered facts are sufficiently curious to deserve mention. The late Walter Carew, Esq., was reputed to have married a French lady, who, although believed to have been of high and distinguished rank, was no longer traceable to any family, nor indeed to any locality in France There were many mysterious circ.u.mstances attending this alleged union, which made the fact of a marriage very doubtful. Nothing certainly could be discovered amongst Carew's papers, or little to authenticate the circ.u.mstances, nor was there a single allusion to be found to it in his handwriting. A singular accident has at length brought this doc.u.ment to light; and although the individual whose fortune it most nearly concerned has ceased to exist,--he died, it is believed, in the affair of the Sections at Paris,--the result will, in all probability, affect the possession of the vast property in question.

"The discovery to which we allude is as follows: A ma.s.s of papers and family doc.u.ments were deposited by the late Duke of Montpensier in the hands of certain bankers in Philadelphia, in whose possession they have remained, undisturbed and unexplored, up to within a few weeks back, when the Duke of Orleans, desiring to know if a particular doc.u.ment that he sought for was amongst the number, addressed himself to the firm for this purpose. Whether success attended the search in question we know not, but it certainly elicited another and most curious discovery: no less than that the late Madame de Carew was a natural daughter of Philippe, Duke of Orleans, the celebrated 'egalite,' and that her marriage had been the result of a wager lost by the Duke to Carew. We are not at liberty to divulge any more of the singular circ.u.mstances of this strange compact, though we may add, what in the present is the more important element of the case, no less than this marriage certificate of Walter Carew and Josephine de Courtois, forwarded to the Duke in a letter from the d.u.c.h.esse de Sargance, who had accompanied them.

"The letter of the d.u.c.h.ess herself is not one of the least singular parts of this most strange history, since it mentions the marriage in a style of apology, and consoles the Duke for the _mesalliance_ by the a.s.surance that, probably, in the obscurity of Ireland, they will never more be heard of.

"Amongst the strange coincidences of this strange event, another still remains to be told. It was in the hands of the firm of Rogers and Raper that these doc.u.ments were deposited, and Mr. Raper himself has pa.s.sed half a lifetime in the vain search for the very piece of evidence which mere chance has thus presented to him.

"That Gervois, the celebrated impostor in this case, must have, by some means or other, obtained an insight into the strange circ.u.mstances of this story, is quite evident, and we understand that the order for his departure has been countermanded till he be interrogated as to the amount of his knowledge, and the sources from which he derived it. Mr.

Raper and the Countess of Gabriac, an Irishwoman by birth, are expected daily to arrive in this country, and we may look forward to their coming for the elucidation of one of the most curious stories in our domestic annals.

"There is a story current that Lady Hester Stanhope remembers, some years back, a young man having presented himself to Mr. Pitt as the son of the late Walter Carew, and shown certain papers to authenticate his claim; and as the occurrence took place subsequent to the year '95, it is evident that if his pretensions were well founded, there could be no truth in the account of his having fallen in the 'Battle of the Sections.'"

I have no heart to speak of how these pa.s.sages affected me. To hear that my dear mother and Raper still lived; that they not only remembered me, but that their deep devotion to my cause still animated them,--was too much to bear! Bruised, and shattered, and broken down by fortune, this proof of affection kindled the almost dead embers of feeling within me, and I fell upon my knees in thankful prayer to Heaven that I was not deserted nor forgotten! It was no longer rank, and wealth, and riches that glittered before me. I sought for no splendors of fortune or high estate. All that I asked, all that I prayed for, was an honorable name before man, and that love which should once more reconcile me to myself,--lift me from the lonely depths of my isolation, and make a home for me with those to whom I was dear.

"On deck, Gervois," said the turnkey, arousing me from a deep revery a few days after this interview; "on deck--here are some strangers want to have a look at ye."

I slowly followed him up the ladder. I was weak and sickly, but no longer dispirited nor depressed; a faint flickering of hope now burned within me, and I felt that, even to the vulgar stare of curiosity, I could present the steady gaze of one whose vindication might one day be p.r.o.nounced. I had but touched the deck with my foot when I was clasped in a strong embrace, and Polly's voice, as she kissed me, cried, "My own dear, dear boy; my own long-lost child!"

Raper's arms were around me too; and another that I knew not, a white-haired man, old and sorrow-stricken, but n.o.ble-looking, grasped my hand in his, and said,--

"His father, every inch of him!"

Poor MacNaghten! he had come from fourteen years of imprisonment to devote his first moment of liberty to bless and embrace me.

Oh! you who have known what it is to be rescued from death when every hope of life had left you; who have from the storm-tossed raft watched the sail as it came nearer and nearer, and at last heard the loud cheer that said, "Be of good courage--a moment more and we will be with you!"--even you, in that moment of blissful agony, cannot sound the depth of emotion which was mine, as, throwing off the stain of the felon, I stood forth in the pride of my guiltlessness, able to say to the world, See how you have wronged me! See how, confounding the weakness and the folly of the human heart with direct and actual criminality, you have suffered the probable or the possible to usurp the place of the inevitably true; have been so carried away by prejudice or by pa.s.sion as to sentence an innocent man!--see, I say, that your judgments are fallible and your tests are weak; and bethink you that all you can do hereafter in atonement of your error can never erase the deep welt of the fetter on his limb, or the more terrible brand that stamped "guilty" on his name. If you cannot be always just, be sometimes merciful; distrust, at least, the promptings that disposed you to condemn, and say to your heart, "Good G.o.d, if this man were to prove innocent!"

I am now wealthy and rich. Years of prosperity have rolled over me,--years of tranquil happiness and sincere enjoyment. There is not a day on which I have not to thank Heaven for blessings of health and vigor, for the love of kind hearts, and for the affection of many benevolent natures. I know and I acknowledge that these are more than the recompense of any sorrows I have suffered; and in my daily walk of life I try to aid those who suffer, to console affliction, and to cheer weak-heartedness. The happiness that others seek and find within the circle of their own, I look for in the wider family of mankind, and I am not disappointed.

Polly and Raper live with me. MacNaghten, too, inhabits the old room that once was his. Poor fellow, in his extreme old age he loves every spot that revives a memory of the past, and in his wanderings often calls me "Walter."

It remains for me but to say that the singular events which ultimately restored me to my own, attracted the attention of royalty. The various details which came out upon the trial, with the evidence given by the Countess of Gabriac and Raper,--all of which, involving so much already known, I have spared the reader,--so far interested the King that he expressed a desire to see me at Court.

I hastened, of course, to obey the command, and from the royal hand received the honor of knighthood, his Majesty saying, "We should have made you a baronet, only that it would have been of no use to you, seeing that you are the last of the Carews of Castle Carew."

Yes, kind reader, and these, too, are our last words to you. Would that anything in these memorials of a life may have served to lighten a weary hour, or softened a moment of suffering; since to the higher purposes of instruction or improvement they lay no claim. At all events, think of me as one too deeply conscious of his own faults to hide or to extenuate them, and too sincerely sensible of his good fortune not to strive to extend its blessings to others.--Adieu!

THE END.