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"Very like," said O'Rorke, sullenly; "he's more used to dirty work than I am."
Ladarelle had just begun to run his eyes over one of the letters when he heard these words, and the paper shook in his hand with pa.s.sion, and the colour came and went in his face, but he still affected to read on, and never took his gaze from the letter. At last he said, in a shaken voice, which all his efforts could not render calm, "This is a few lines from Fisk, enclosing a letter from Luttrell for Sir Within. Fisk secured it before it reached its destination."
To this insinuated rebuke O'Rorke made no rejoinder, and, after a pause, the other continued: "Fisk says little, but it is all to the purpose. He has reduced every day to a few lines in journal fas.h.i.+on, so that I know what goes on at Dalradern as if I were there myself."
O'Rorke kept an unbroken silence, and Ladarelle went on: "The day you left the Castle, Sir Within wrote to Calvert and Mills, his solicitors, and despatched by post a ma.s.s of doc.u.ments and parchments. The next day he wrote to Mr. Luttrell of Arran, posting the letter himself as he drove through Wrexham."
"That letter was the one I stopped at Westport," broke in O'Rorke.
"I suppose it was. Fisk writes: 'The servants all remarked a wonderful change had come over Sir W.; he gave orders through the house as if he expected company, and seemed in such spirits as he had not been for months. Next morning very anxious for the post to come in, and greatly disappointed at not seeing some letter he expected. The late post brought a letter from Mills to say he would be down by the morning's mail--that the matter presented no difficulty whatever, and was exactly as Sir Within represented it.' Fisk managed to read this and re-seal it before it got to hand; that's what I call a smart scoundrel!"
"So he is--every inch of one!" was O'Rorke's rejoinder.
"Here he continues," said Ladarelle: "'Thursday--No letter, nor any tidings of Mills. Sir Within greatly agitated. Post-horses ordered for Chester, and countermanded. All sorts of contradictory commands given during the day. The upholsterers have arrived from town, but told not to take down the hangings, nor do anything till to-morrow. Mr. Grenfell called, but not admitted; a message sent after him to ask him to dinner to-morrow; he comes. Friday--Arrived at Wrexham. As the mail came in, saw Mr. Mills order horses for Dalradern; waited for the post delivery, and secured the enclosed. No time for more, as the Irish mail leaves in an hour.'
"Now for Luttrell. Let's see his side in the correspondence," said Ladarelle, breaking the seal; "though perhaps I know it as well as if I read it."
"You do not," said the other, st.u.r.dily.
"What do you mean by 'I do not?'"
"I suspect I know what you're thinking of; and it's just this--that John Luttrell is out of himself with joy because that old fool's in love with his niece."
"He might well be what you call out of himself with joy if he thought she was to be mistress of Dalradern."
"It's much you know him," said O'Rorke, with an insolent mockery in his voice and look. "A Luttrell of Arran wouldn't think a Prince of the Blood too good for one belonging to him. Laugh away, laugh away; it's safe to do it here, for John Luttrell's on the island beyand."
"You are about the most----"
"The most what? Say it out. Surely you ain't afraid to finish your sentence, Sir?"
"I find it very hard, Mr. O'Rorke, to conduct an affair to its end in conjunction with one who never omits an occasion to say, or at least insinuate, a rudeness."
"Devil a bit of insinuation about _me_. Whatever I have to say, I say it out, in the first words that come to me; and I'm generally pretty intelligible too. And now, if it's the same thing to you, what was it you were going to call me? I was the most--something or other--what was it?"
"I'll tell you what _I_ am," said Ladarelle, with a bitter grin--"about the most patient man that ever breathed."
Neither spoke for some time, and then Ladarelle opened the letter he still held in his hand, and began to read it.
"Well," cried he, "of all the writing I ever encountered, this is the most illegible; and not merely that, but there are words erased and words omitted, and sentences left unfinished, or finished with a dash of the pen."
"Are you going to read it out?" asked O'Rorke; and in his voice there rang something almost like a command, for the man's native insolence grew stronger at every new conflict, and with the impression--well or ill-founded--that the other was afraid of him.
"I'll try what I can do," said Ladarelle, repressing his irritation. "It is dated St. Finbar's, 16th:
"'Sir,--I know nothing of your letter of the 12th instant. If I ever received, I have forgotten and mislaid it. I answered yours of the 9th, and hoped I had done with this correspondence. I have seen your name in the newspapers, and have been'--have been, I suppose it is--'accustomed'--yes, accustomed--'to look on you as a person in high employ, and worthy of the'--here the word is left out--'who employed him. If, however, you be, as you state, in your'--this may be a nine or seven, I suppose it is seven--'in your seventy-fourth year, your proposal to a girl of twenty is little short of------' Another lapse; I wish we had his word, it was evidently no compliment. 'That is, however, more your question than mine. Such follies as these ask for no comment; they usually------ And well it is it should be so.
"'Fortune, however, befriends you more than your own foresight. It is your good luck rescues you from this------- She has left this--gone away--deserted _me_, as she once deserted _you_, and would in all likelihood when sorry-- insolent airs of your connexions -- to resent unpardonable. Without you are as bereft as myself, you must surely have-- relations, of whom-- choice -- and certainly more suitable than one whose age and decrepitude might in pity and compa.s.sion sentiment.
"'But she is gone! Warning is, therefore, needless. You cannot if you would this folly. She is gone--and on a bed of sickness, to which the only hope--and that speedily.
"'If -- by such-- hurt you.'"
"Line after line had been here erased and re-written, but all illegibly; nor was it, till after long puzzling and exploring, the last words could be made out to be: "'All further interchange of letters is a task beyond my strength. It is all said when I write, She is gone, no more to nor would I now---- A few hours more--I pray not days.
"'Faithful servant,
"'H. LUTTRELL.'
"It's clear _he'll_ have no more correspondence," said Ladarelle, with a half triumphant manner, as he closed the letter.
"And the other? What will the other do?"
"Do you mean Sir Within?"
"Yes."
"It's not easy to say. It seems plain we're not to expect anything very sensible from him. He is determined to make a fool of himself, and it only remains to see how he is to do it."
"And how do you think it will be?" In spite of himself, O'Rorke threw into his question that amount of eagerness that showed how much interest he felt in the-matter. Ladarelle was quick enough to see this, and turned his eyes full upon him, and thus they stood for nigh half a minute, each steadfastly staring at the other. "Well! do you see anything very wonderful in my face that you look so hard at me?" asked O'Rorke.
"I do."
"'And what is it, if I might make so bowld?"
"I see a man who doubts how far he'll go on the road he was paid to travel--that's what I see!"
"And do you know why?" rejoined O'Rorke, defiantly. "Do you know why?"
"No."
"Then I'll tell you! It's because the man that was to show me the way hasn't the courage to do it! There's the whole of it. You brought me over here, telling me one thing, and now you're bent on another! and to-morrow, if anything cheaper turns up, you'll be for _that_. Is it likely that I'd risk myself far with a man that doesn't know his own mind, or trust his own courage?"
"I suppose I understand my own affairs best!"
"Well! that's what I think about _mine_, too."
Ladarelle took an impatient turn or two up and down the room before he spoke, and it was easy to see that he was exerting himself to the very utmost to be calm. "If this girl's flight from Arran has served us in one way, her illness has just done us as much harm in another--I mean, of course, if she should not die---because my venerable relation is just as much determined to marry her as ever he was. Are you attending to me?"
"To every word, Sir," said O'Rorke, obsequiously; and, indeed, it was strangely like magnetism the effect produced upon him, when Ladarelle a.s.sumed the tone and manner of a superior.
"I want to have done with the business, then, at once," continued Ladarelle. "Find out from the doctor--and find it out accurately--what are her chances of life. If she is likely to live, learn how soon she could be removed from this, and whither to, as Sir Within is sure to trace her to this place. As soon as possible, we must manage some sort of mock marriage, for I believe it is the only sure way of stopping this old man in his folly. Now, I leave it to _you_ to contrive the plan for this. There's another demand for you. See who is at the door."
"Mr. O'Rorke is wanted at M'Cafferty's," said a voice outside.
"I'll be back in a few minutes, Sir."
"Well, I shall go to bed, and don't disturb me if there be nothing important to tell me. Order breakfast for ten to-morrow, and let me see you there."