Ten Thousand a-Year Volume Iii Part 15

"May not Heaven have brought about _this meeting_ between us as a mode of"----

"Monstrous!" exclaimed Miss Aubrey, in a voice and with a look which for a moment silenced him.

"It is high time that you should leave me, sir," presently said Miss Aubrey, determinedly. "I have suffered surely sufficiently already; and my first answer is also my last. I beg now, sir, that you will retire."

"Madam, you are obeyed," replied Gammon, rising, and speaking in a tone of sorrowful deference. He felt that his fate was sealed. "I now seem fully aware, to myself even, of the unwarrantable liberty I have taken, and solicit your forgiveness--" Miss Aubrey bowed to him loftily.--"I will not presume to solicit your silence to Mr. and Mrs. Aubrey concerning the visit I have paid you?" he continued very anxiously.

"I am not in the habit, sir, of concealing _anything_ from my brother and sister; but I shall freely exercise my own discretion in the matter."

"Well, madam," said he, preparing to move towards the door, while Miss Aubrey raised her hand to the bell--"in taking leave of you," he paused--"let me hope, not forever--receive my solemn a.s.surance, given before Heaven! that, haughtily as you have repelled my advances this day, I will yet continue to do all that is in my power to avert the troubles now threatening your brother--which I fear, however, will be but of little avail! Farewell, farewell, Miss Aubrey!" he exclaimed; and was the next moment rapidly descending the stairs. Miss Aubrey, bursting afresh into tears, threw herself again upon the sofa, and continued long in a state of excessive agitation. Mr. Gammon walked eastward at a rapid pace, and in a state of mind which cannot be described. How he loathed the sight of Saffron Hill, and its disgusting approaches! He merely looked into the office for a moment, saying that he felt too much indisposed to attend to business that day; and then betook himself to his solitary chambers--a thousand times more solitary and cheerless than ever they had appeared before--where he remained in a sort of revery for hours. About eleven o'clock that night, he was guilty of a strange piece of extravagance; for his fevered soul being unable to find rest anywhere, he set off for Vivian Street, and paced up and down it, with his eye constantly fixed upon Mr. Aubrey's house; he saw the lights disappear from the drawing-room, and reappear in the bedrooms: them also he watched out--still he lingered in the neighborhood, which seemed to have a sort of fatal fascination about it; and it was past three o'clock before, exhausted in mind and body, he regained his chamber, and throwing himself upon the bed, slept from mere weariness.

Let us now turn to a man of a very different description--Mr. Aubrey.

He had spent nearly a year in the real study of the law; during which time I have not the least hesitation in saying that he had made--notwithstanding all his dreadful drawbacks--at least five times the progress that is generally made by even the most successful of those who devote themselves to the legal profession. He had, moreover, during the same period, produced five or six exceedingly able political dissertations, and several important contributions to historical literature; and the reader will not be surprised to learn, that such exertions as these, and such anxieties as were his, had told visibly on the appearance of Mr. Aubrey. He was very thin; his cheek had lost its color; his eye was oppressed; his spirits had lost their buoyancy, except in the few intervals which he was permitted, by his hara.s.sing labors, of domestic enjoyment. He still bore up, however, against his troubles with an unyielding resolution; feeling that Providence had called upon him to do his uttermost, and await the result with patience and faith. Nothing had occurred during this long interval to brighten his prospects--to diminish his crus.h.i.+ng load of liability by a hair's weight. But his well-disciplined mind now stood him in n.o.ble stead, and enabled him to realize a daily consciousness of advancement in the pursuits to which he had devoted himself. Well indeed may it be said, that there is no grander spectacle for angels or men, than a great mind struggling with adversity. To us, indeed, it is consolatory, encouraging, enn.o.bling. Therefore, O Aubrey! do we now continue to contemplate you with profound interest, nor the less, because we perceive the constant presence with thee of _One_ whose mighty a.s.sistance is dependent _upon thy confidence in it_. Hope ever, therefore, and struggle on!

The reader may imagine the alarm occasioned Mr. Aubrey on his return from the Temple on the evening of the day on which Gammon had paid his remarkable visit to Miss Aubrey, which I have been describing, by the sight of the troubled countenances of his wife and sister. Mrs. Aubrey had returned home within about half an hour after Gammon's leaving Vivian Street, and to her Miss Aubrey instantly communicated the extraordinary proposal which he had made to her, all, in fact, that had pa.s.sed between them--with the exception of the astounding information concerning the alleged possibility of their restoration to Yatton. The two ladies had, indeed, determined on concealing the whole affair from Mr. Aubrey--at all events for the present; but their perceptible agitation increasing as he questioned them concerning the cause of it, rendered suppression impossible, and they told him frankly (excepting only the matter above mentioned) the singular and most embarra.s.sing incident which had happened in his absence. Blank amazement was succeeded by vivid indignation in Mr. Aubrey, as soon as he had heard of this attempt to take advantage of their circ.u.mstances; and for several hours he was excessively agitated. In vain they tried to soothe him; in vain did Kate throw her arms fondly round him, and implore him, for all their sakes, to take no notice to Mr. Gammon of what had happened; in vain did she protest that she would give him instant intelligence of any future attempt by that person to renew his absurd and presumptuous offer; in vain did they both remind him, with great emotion, of the fearful power over all of them which was in Mr. Gammon's hands. Aubrey was peremptory and inflexible, and, moreover, frank and explicit; and told them, on quitting home the next morning, that, though they might rely on his discretion and temper, he had resolved to communicate that day, either personally or by letter, with Mr. Gammon; not only peremptorily forbidding any renewal of his proposals, but also requesting him to discontinue his visits in Vivian Street.

"Oh, Charles! Charles! be punctually home by six!" exclaimed they, as he embraced them both at parting, and added, bursting afresh into tears, "do consider the agony--the dreadful suspense we shall be in all day!"

"I will return by six, to a minute! Don't fear for _me_!" he replied with a smile--which, however, instantly disappeared, as soon as he had quitted their presence.

Old Mr. Quirk was the next morning, about ten o'clock, over head and ears in business of all kinds--and sadly missed the clear-headed and energetic Gammon; so, fearing that that gentleman's indisposition must still continue, inasmuch as there were no symptoms of his coming to the office as usual, he took off his spectacles, locked his room door, in order to prevent any one by any possibility looking on any of the numerous letters and papers lying on his table; and set off to make a call upon Mr. Gammon--whose countenance, flushed and hara.s.sed, strongly corroborated his representations concerning the state of his health.

Still, he said, he could attend to any business which Mr. Quirk was prepared then to mention; whereupon Mr. Quirk took from his pocket a piece of paper, drew on his gla.s.ses, and put questions to him from a number of memoranda which he had made for the purpose. Gammon's answers were brief, pointed, and explicit, on all matters mentioned, as might have been expected from one of his great ability and energy--but his muddle-headed companion could not carry away a single clear idea of what had been so clearly told him; and without avowing the fact, of which he felt, however, a painful consciousness, simply determined to do nothing that he could possibly avoid doing, till Mr. Gammon should have made his reappearance at the office, and reduced the little chaos there into something like form and order.

Before he quitted Mr. Gammon, that gentleman quietly and easily led the conversation towards the subject of the various outstanding debts due to the firm.

"Ah, drat it!" quoth the old gentleman, briskly--"the heaviest, you know, is--eh?--I suppose, however," he added apprehensively, and scratching his head, "I mustn't name _that_--I mean that fellow Aubrey's account--without our coming to words."

"Why--stay! stay," said Mr. Gammon, with a gravely thoughtful air--"I don't see _that_, either, Mr. Quirk. Forbearance has its limits. It may be abused, Mr. Quirk."

"Ecod! I should think so!" quoth Mr. Quirk, eagerly--"and I know who's abused _somebody's_ forbearance--eh, Gammon?"

"I understand you, my dear sir," replied Gammon, with a sigh--"I fear I must plead no longer for him--I have gone already, perhaps, much farther than my duty to the firm warranted."

"It's a heavy balance, Gammon--a very heavy balance, 1,446 odd, to be outstanding so long--he agreed to pay interest on't--didn't he, eh?--But really something ought to be done in it; and--come, Gammon, as you have had _your_ turn so long, now comes mine!--Tip him over to _me_."

"I should be very sorry to distress him, poor devil!"

"Distress him? Our bill must be paid. D--n him! why don't he pay his debts? I pay mine--you pay yours--he must pay his."

"Certainly. By the way," said Gammon, suddenly, "if you were to take bold and decided steps, his friends would undoubtedly come forward and relieve him."

"Ay! ay!--What think you of three days--give him three days to turn about in?--There he's living all the while in a d--d fine house at the West End, like a gentleman--looks down, I'll be sworn, on us poor attorneys already, beggar as he is, because he's coming to the bar. Now mind, Gammon, no nonsense! I won't stand your coming in again as you did before--if I write--honor between thieves! eh?"

"I pledge my honor to you, my dear sir, that I will interfere no more; the law must take its course."

"That's it!" said Mr. Quirk, rubbing his hands gleefully; "I'll tip him a tickler before he's a day older that shall wake him up--ah, ha!"

"You will do me one favor, Mr. Quirk, I am sure," said Mr. Gammon, with that civil but peremptory manner of his, which invariably commanded Quirk's a.s.sent to his suggestions--"you will insert a disclaimer in the letter of its emanating from _me_--or being with my consent."

"Oh lud, yes! yes! anything."

"Nay--rather _against my wish_, you know--eh? Just for appearance's sake--as I have always appeared so infernally civil to the man, till now."

"Will you draw it up yourself? And then, so as the _other_ matter's all right--no flinching--stick in as much palaver, Gammon!--aha!--as you like!" replied Quirk; who, as the proposal involved only a greater measure of discourtesy on _his_ part, without any sacrifice of his _interest_, regarded it with perfect indifference. He took his leave of Gammon in better spirits than those which he had carried with him. It having been thus determined on by the partners, that within a day or two's time, Mr. Aubrey should be required to pay the whole balance, under penalty of an arrest--Gammon, on being left alone, folded his arms as he sat beside his breakfast-table--and meditated on the probable results of this his first hostile move against Mr. Aubrey. "I wonder whether she's told him," thought he, with a slight palpitation--which was somewhat increased by a pretty sharp knock at his outer door. The color suddenly deserted his cheek as he started from his seat, scattering on the floor nearly a dozen unopened letters which had been lying at his elbow, on the table: and he stood still for a moment to subdue a little of his agitation, so as to enable him to present himself with some show of calmness before the visitor whom he felt perfectly certain that he should see on opening the door. He was right. The next minute beheld him ushering into his room, with a surprising degree of self-possession, Mr. Aubrey, whose countenance showed embarra.s.sment and agitation.

"I have called upon you, Mr. Gammon," commenced Aubrey, taking the seat to which Mr. Gammon, with great courtesy, motioned him, and then resumed his own, "in consequence of your visit yesterday in Vivian Street--of your surprising interview with my sister--your most unexpected, extraordinary proposal to her."

Mr. Gammon listened respectfully, with an air of earnest attention, evidently not intending to make any reply.

"It cannot surprise you, sir, that I should have been made acquainted with it immediately on my return home yesterday evening. It was undoubtedly my sister's _duty_ to do so; but she did it, I am bound to acknowledge to you, sir, with great reluctance, as a matter of exquisitely painful delicacy. Sir, she has told me all that pa.s.sed between you."

"I cannot presume, Mr. Aubrey, to find fault with anything Miss Aubrey may have thought proper to do; she _cannot_ do wrong," replied Gammon, calmly, though Mr. Aubrey's last words had occasioned him lively anxiety as to the extent of Miss Aubrey's communications to her brother. He observed Mr. Aubrey's eyes fixed upon him steadfastly, and saw that he was laboring under much excitement. "If I have done anything calculated to inflict the slightest pain upon a lady for whom I have so profound"--he saw the color mounting into Mr. Aubrey's cheek, and a sterner expression appearing in his eye--"a respect, or upon _you_, or any of your family, I am distressed beyond measure."

"I perfectly appreciate, Mr. Gammon, the position in which we stand with regard to each other," said Mr. Aubrey, with forced calmness. "Though I am fearfully changed in respect of fortune, I am not a whit changed--_we are none of us changed_," he continued proudly, "in respect of personal feelings and character."

He paused: Gammon spoke not. Presently Mr. Aubrey resumed--"I am, as we are all, very deeply sensible of the obligation which you have conferred upon us, and at the same time feel, that we are, to a great extent, placed at your mercy."

"Pray--I beg, Mr. Aubrey, that you will not speak in a strain which really hurts my feelings," interrupted Gammon, earnestly; "and which nothing on, my part has justified, nor can justify."

"Sir," continued Mr. Aubrey, firmly, "I meant nothing in the least calculated to wound your feelings, but merely to express my own; and let me, Mr. Gammon, without the least reserve or circ.u.mlocution, inform you that both my sister and I have felt vivid dissatisfaction at your conduct of yesterday; and I have deemed it expedient to lose no time in informing you that your proposals are utterly out of the question, and can never be entertained, under any circ.u.mstances, for one moment."

Had Aubrey been, instead of the mere pauper he really was, and in the presence of one whom he knew to be able to cast him instantly into prison, at that moment in the position he had formerly occupied, of wealth and greatness, he could not have spoken with an air of more dignified determination, and even _hauteur_: which Gammon perceived, and fully appreciated.

"I am undoubtedly aware, sir, of the disparity between Miss Aubrey and myself in point of position," said he, coldly.

"I have said nothing of the kind that I am aware of, nor would I, on any account, say anything offensive to you, Mr. Gammon; but it is my duty to speak explicitly and decisively. I therefore now beg you to understand that your overtures must not, in any shape, or at any time, be renewed; and this I must insist upon without a.s.signing or suggesting any reason whatever."

Gammon listened attentively and silently.

"I presume, Mr. Gammon, that I cannot be misunderstood?" added Mr.

Aubrey, with a very perceptibly increased peremptoriness of manner.

"It would be difficult to misunderstand what you say, sir," replied Gammon, in whose dark bosom Mr. Aubrey's words had, as it were, stung and roused the serpent PRIDE--which might have been seen with crest erect, and glaring eyes. But Mr. Gammon's external manner was calm and subdued.

"It gives me pain to be forced to add, Mr. Gammon," continued Mr.

Aubrey, "that after what has taken place, we all of us feel--that--it will be better for you to discontinue your visits at my house. I am sure your own sense of delicacy will appreciate the necessity which exists for such a suggestion on my part?"

"I perfectly understand you, Mr. Aubrey," replied Gammon, in the same grave and guarded manner which he had preserved throughout their interview. "I shall offer no apology, sir, for conduct which I do not feel to require one. I conceive that I had a perfect right to make, with all due deference and respect, the offer which it appears has given you so much offence; for reasons, it may be, which justify you, but which I cannot speculate upon, nor do I wish to do so. It is impossible ever to see Miss Aubrey without becoming sensible of her loveliness, both of person and character. I have paid them homage: for the rest, the issue is simply--unfortunate. While I may not feel disposed, even if inclined, to disregard your strict and solemn injunctions, I take leave to say that my feelings towards Miss Aubrey cannot alter; and if in no _other_ way they can be gratified, there is yet _one_ which"--here he looked greatly moved, and changed color--"yet remains open to me, to exhibit my regard for her in a tenfold anxiety to preserve her--to preserve all of you, Mr. Aubrey, from the approach of difficulty and danger. That much Miss Aubrey may have also told to you, of what pa.s.sed between us yesterday." He paused--from emotion apparently; but he was only considering intently whether he should endeavor to _ascertain_ if Mr.

Aubrey had been put by his sister in possession of his--Gammon's, last communication to her; and then, however that might be, whether he should himself break the matter to Mr. Aubrey. But he decided both questions in the negative, and proceeded, with a little excitement of manner--"There _are_ dangers menacing you, I grieve to say, Mr. Aubrey, of the most serious description, which I may possibly be unable to avert from you! I fear I am losing that hold _upon others_ which has enabled me hitherto to save you from rapacity and oppression! I regret to say that I can _answer_ for others no longer; but all that man can do, still will I do.

I have been most bitterly--most fearfully disappointed; but you shall ever find me a man of my word--of as high and rigid honor, perhaps, even, Mr. Aubrey, as yourself"--he paused, and felt that he had made an impression on his silent auditor--"and I hereby pledge myself, in the presence of G.o.d, that so far as in _me_ lies, there shall not a hair of any of your heads be touched." Again he paused. "I wish, Mr. Aubrey, you knew the pressure which has been for some time upon me--nay, even this very morning"----he cast a melancholy and reluctant eye towards the letters which he had gathered up, and which he had placed beside him on the breakfast-table--"I have received a letter--here it is--I know the handwriting; I almost dread to open it." Mr. Aubrey changed color.

"I am at a loss to know to what, _in particular_, you are alluding, Mr.

Gammon?" he interrupted anxiously.

"I will not at present say more on the subject; I devoutly hope my negotiations may be successful, and that the affair may not for many months, or even years, be _forced_ upon your attention! Still, _were_ I to do so, one effect, at least, it would have--to satisfy you of my honorable and _disinterested_ motives in the offer which I presumed to make Miss Aubrey."

"Well, sir," replied Mr. Aubrey, with a melancholy air, and sighing deeply, "I can only place my trust in Providence--and I _do_. I have suffered much already; and if it be the will of Heaven that I should suffer more, I hope it will be proved that I have not suffered already--_in vain_!"

"Mr. Aubrey," said Gammon, gazing at him with a brightening eye, "my very soul owns the sublime presence of VIRTUE, in your person! It is exalting--it is enn.o.bling--merely to be permitted to witness so heroic an example of constancy as you exhibit!"--He paused, and for some moments there was silence--"You do not distrust me, Mr. Aubrey?" said Gammon, at length, with a confident air.