UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA BOOK CARD Please keep this card in book pocket IJiiivers From the Throug^ I A THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA ENDOWED BY THE DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC SOCIETIES PRi+002 .M5 1898 UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 00014377024 This book is due at the LOUIS R. WILSON LIBRARY on the last date stamped under "Date Due." If not on hold it may be renewed by bringing it to the library. I^^J^ RET. ^^^^ RFT DUE ***^^- m 27 1971 A!'- "? ?f 1 '■ • ;nr.T2 2^7i - 1 JnOv / 1 -z- ^ J. 'L JAN 1 1 l£: r. T J aJ \ i^" 1 •^ h: ^ |--n-:..'i*«,«^„. l'.H 1 ^ If' 1; 1 ""^^:"=^"^ .r^ 1 r'OQ J -,--^ .- \W^^ --.^ u f o/-/>j ,'va. -"J / J 1 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER AINSWORTH'S NOVELS. Tlie 8i"0 Edition, irith all the Oriqinal Illustrations hy Gkougf: Crlikskank, 8iu JouN Gilbert. E.A.. 11. K. Browxk, and others. THE TOATER OF LONDON. Tiir star chamber. THE LANCASninE WITCHES. crichton. OLD ST. PAUL'S. .MERVYN CLITIIEROE. WINDSOR CASTLE. "ftlE SPENDTHRIFT. THE miser's DACGHTER. BOSCOBKL. GUV FAWKES. OVINGDF.AN GRANGE. JACK SIIEPPARD. THE FLITCH OF BACON. ROOKWOOD, AURIOL. (Uot»^ CfvA-cskvrJ::^ Tie Miser discovering tlie loss of tiie mortgage -money. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER A TALE 'f*^^^ ' ' BY WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH AUTHOK OF " THE TOWEU OF LONDON," " OLD SAINT PAUL's," ETC. "The delineation of such characters as these I consider as very moral instruction to mankind, and a lesson more demonstrative of the perfect vanity of unused wealth, than has lately been presented to the public." — Tojham's L(/e of Ekves. aSitf) illustrations bji George CTruifesi^anfe LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL GLASGOW, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK TO MY THREE DEAR DAUGHTERS, FANNY, EMILY-MARY, AND BLANCHE, 3 offer tiji3 ^Tale, W. H. A. T CONTENTS. d3ook i!)c Jpirst. CHAPTER I. rAGB THE MISEk'S dwelling IN THE LITTLE SANCTUARY OPPOSITE NEIGHBOtms — PETEli POKEIUCH AND THE PAIE THOMASINE — JACOB POST KANDULPH CF.EW. 1 CHAPTER II. THE MISER AND HIS DAUGHTER — RANDULPH DELIVERS THE PACKET TO THE FOUJIER — ITS RECEPTION 10 CHAPTER IIL THE BkOTHERS BEECHCROFT MR. JUKES — THE ARRIVAL THE WALK IN SAINT James's park — randulph's introduction to beau villiers and lady erabazon 17 CHAPTER IV. ABEL BEECHCEOFT's SENSIBILITY HIS INSTRUCTIONS TO MR. JUKES A SECOND NEPHEW — THE LOAN MR. CRIPPS'S SENSE OF HONOUR THE BRIBE 25 CHAPTER V. ABEL AGAIN CAUTIONS HIS NEPHEW AGAINST THE MISEE's DAUGHTER 34 CHAPTER VI. THE MISER AND JACOB — A THIRD NEPHEW — A DINNER AT THE MISER's — HILDA'S OPINION OF HER COUSIN 36 CHAPTER VII. THE PAYMENT OF THE MORTGAGE MONEY 42 CHAPTER VIII. THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER — THE LANDLORD OF THE ROSE AND CROWN — CORDWELL FIREBBAS 47 CHAPTER IX. THE STRANGER AT THE BAEBER's 53 CHAPTER X. THE beau's levee — THE BREAKFAST — THE EMBARKATION FOR THE FOLLY 58 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XI. FAGS THE JflSER S CONSULTATION WITH HIS ATTORNEY — JACOB ALARMED BT HIS master's APPEARANCE AT NIGHT — THE VISIT OF CORDWELL FIREBRAS 65 CHAPTER XII. BILDA'S INTERVIEW WITH ABEL BEECHCROFT 73 CHAPTER XIII. THE FOLLY ON THE THAMES — KITTY CONWAY — BANDCLPH PLACED IN AN AWKWARD SITUATION BY PHILIP FREWIN 73 CHAPTER XIV. EANDULFH'S INTERVIEW WITH CORDWELL FIREBRAS IN THE CLOISTERS OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY 83 CHAPTER XV. MRS. CLINTON'S ALARM — THE MISEK's UNEXPECTED RETURN — THE DISAPPEAR- ANCE OF THE MORTGAGE MONEY EFFRONTERY OF PHILIP FREWIxV AND DIG as 85 CHAPTER XVI. LADY I;RABAZ0N DEPOSITS HER DIAMONDS WITH THE MISER GALLANTRY OP THE LATTER HE DISCOVERS THE CONTRIVER OF THE ROBBERY OF THE MORTGAGE MONEY 94 CHAPTER XVII. MR. CUIPPS'S ALARMING INTELLIGENCE— RANDULPH'S INTRODUCTION TO THE JACOBITE CLUB SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURY AND FATHER VERSELYN — THE TRKASONABLE TOAST DANGEROUS POSITION OF RANDULPH — HIS FIRMNESS — PUNCTILIOUSNESS OF SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURY 100 CHAPTER XVIII. THE JACOBITE CLUB SURPRISED BY THE GUARD — THE FLIGHT AND PURSUIT — Mil. CRIPI'S's TREACHERY — HIS REFLECTIONS 107 CHAPTER XIX. B;R. JDKES'S NOTIONS OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS — TRUSSELL A LITTLE THE WORSE FOR WINE — RANDULPH RECEIVES A NOTE FROM FIREBRAS JACOB POST BRINGS INFORMATION TO ABEL 113 CHAPTER XX. ABEL'S INTERVIEW WITH THE MISER — UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE OF RANDULPH AND CORDWELL FIREBRAS— RESULT OF THE MEETING 121 CONTENTS. 11 iJouk ti)E ^Econo. CHAPTER I. KlDt. sell's appearance after his debauch — HE PEOCEEDS WITH RANDUI.PU TO LADY BRABAZON's — THE PARTY GO TO MARYLEBONE GARDENS 123 CHAPTER II. MRS. NETTLESHIP — MR. CRIPPS PERSONATES HIS MASTER— MARYLEBOis'E GAR- DENS — MR. riRIppS DETECTED 132 CHAPTER III. A MAN-0F-TIIE-\V0RLD'S advice ON A MATTER OF THE HEART — THE VISIT TO THE HAYMARKET THEATRE, AND THE SUPPER AFTERAVARD3 WITH KITTY CONWAY — RANDULPH AGAIN AWKWARDLY CIRCUMSTANCED WITH HILDA ... 139 CHAPTER IV. BANDULPH's career OF GAIETY — ABEL'S REMARKS UPON IT TO MR. JUKES... 149 CHAPTER V. BANDUI.PU RECEIVES A LETTER FROM HIS MOTHER — ITS EFFECT UPON HIM — HIS GOOD RESOLUTIONS DEFEATED BY TRUSSELL 151 CHAPTER VI. THE FAIR TUOMASINE'S VISIT TO HILDA — HER MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION — IN WHAT WAY, AND BY WHOM, THE ATTEMPT TO CARRY OFF HILDA V/A3 PREVENTED — THE MISER BUTvIES HIS TREASURE IN THE CELLAR 155 CHAPTER VII. IHE PROGRESS OF MB. CRIPPS's LOVE AFFAIR — ME. BATHBONE APPEARS ON THE SCENE — STRATAGEM OF THE VALET — MR. JUKES VISITS THE WIDOW... 164 CHAPTER VIII. THE MASQUERADE AT BANELAGH, WITH THE VARIOUS INCIDENTS THAT OCCURRED AT IT 168 CHAPTER IX. JACOB BRINGS A PIECE OF INTELLIGENCE TO RANDULPH — TRUSSELL AND RAN- DDLP.'I GO TO DBURY LANE 181 CHAPTER X. THE SUPPER AT VAUXHALL — BEAU VILLIERS' ATTEMPT TO CAREY OFF HILDA DEFEATED BT RANDULPH 185 CHAPTER XI. BANDULPH WORSTS BEAD VILLIERS IN A DUEL IN TOTHILL FIELDS; AND IS WORSTED HIMSELF IN A SECOND DUEL BY SIB NORFOLK SALUSBUBT 182 CONTENTS 23ooli t!)c ^ftirtJ. CHAPTER I. VAGB THAT BECAME OF BANDULPH AFTER THE DUEL — HOW HILDA EECEIVED THE INTELLIGENCE THAT RANDULPH HAD BEEN WOUNDED IN THE DUEL; AND WHAT PASSED BETWEEN CORDWELL FIREBRAS AND THE MISER 193 CHAPTER II. MRS. CREW — HER SOLICITUDE ABOUT HER SON ; AND HER CONVERSATION WITH ABEL 203 CHAPTER III. DETAILING THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN CORDWELL FIREBRAS AND MRS. CREW... 213 CHAPTER IV. TREATS OF THE MISER'S ILLNESS; — AND OF THE DISCOVERY OF THE MYSTE- RIOUS PACKET BY HILDA 217 CHAPTER V. ABEL'S CONDUCT ON LEARNING THE MISER's ILLNESS— SIR SINGLETON SPINKE PROPOSES TO THE FAIR THOMASINE — RANDULPH AGAIN DINES WITH LADT BRABAZON — HE RECEIVES A NOTE FROM MTTY CONWAY, AND IS ASSAULTED BY PHILIP FREWIN AND HIS MYRMIDONS ON HIS WAY TO SUP WITH HER... 22i5 CHAPTER VI. BY WHAT DEVICE PHILIP FKEWIN GOT OFF ; AND HOW RANDULPH AND TRUSSELL WERE LOCKED UP IN THE WATCH-HOUSE 2G4 CHAPTER VII. KITTY CONWAY AND THE LITTLE BARBER PLAY A TRICK UPON THE FAIR THOMASINE — SIR SINGLETON SPINKE IS DELUDED INTO A MARRIAGE WITH TKB PRETTY ACTRESS AT TEE FLEET CHAPTER VIII. OF THE VISIT OF PHILIP FREWIN AND DIGGS TO THE MISER, AND WHAT THEY OBTAINED FROM HIM.... 246 CHAPTER IX. MR. RATHBONE DIVULGES HIS PLAN TO MRS. NETTLESHIP, AND PERSUADES HER TO ACT IN CONCERT WITH HIM IN HIS DESIGNS UPON THE VALET 252 CHAPTER X. HOW MR. CRIPPS'S MARRIAGE WITH THE WIDOW WAS INTERRUPTED 257 CHAPTER XI. 6TULTE, HAO NOCTK REPETUNT ANIMAM TUAM; ET QU^ PAEASTI, 0UJD8 ERUKT." — LUC^, XII . 264 CONTENTS. Xi CHAPTER XII. PAOX ABEL BEECHCEOFT FINDS THE BODY OF THE MISER IX THE CELLAR — HIS REFLEC- rioKB UPON IT — Jacob's gt^iep ecv. his master 268 CHAPTER XITI. Dl'ir.S AND PHILIP unexpectedly ARRIVE — THE MISER's WILL 13 READ, AND PHILIP DECLARES HIS INTENTION OF ACTING fPOX IT — ABEL UNBOSOMS HIMSELF TO HILDA 271 CHAPTER XIV. PH.'LIP FREWIN IS DANGEEODSLY WOUNDED BY RANDULPH — HIS LAST VINDIC- TIVE EFFORT 276 CHAPTER XV. MR. CRIPPS'S ALTERED APPEARANCE — HE MYSTIFIES THE FAIR THOMASINE ABOUT LADY SPINKE — THE SEIZURE OF THE JACOBITE CLUB CONTRIVED... 2S3 CHAPTER XVI. THE SUMMER-HOUSE AT THE CHEQUERS — THE OLD MILL — RANDULPH OVERHEARS THE PLOT — DISPERSION OF THE JACOBITE CLUB, AND FATE OF CORDWELL FIRF.BRAS 2S6 CHAPTER XVII. IN WHICH THE WEDDING-DAY IS FIXED 29i CHAPTER XVIII. DETAILING AN EVENT WHICH MAY POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN ANTICIPATED PROM TUE PRECEDING CHAPTEB , 2V9 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. BOOK THE EIEST. TiANDULPH CREW. CHAPTER L rHE miser's dwelling in the little sanctuary — OPPOSITE NEIGHBOURS PETER POKERICH AND THE FAIR THOMASINE — JACOB POST RANDULPH CREW. In a large, crazy, old-fashioned house at the corner of the Little Sanctuary in Westminster, and facing the abbey, dwelt, in the year 1744, a person named Scarve. From his extraordinary penurious habits, he received the appellation of Starve, and was generally denominated by his neighbours " Miser Starve." Few, if any, of those who thus designated him, knew much about him, none of them being allowed to cross his threshold ; but there was an air, even externally, about his dwelling, strongly indicative of his par- simonious character. Most of the windows in the upper stories, which, as is usual with habitations of that date, far overhung the lower, were boarded up; and those not thus closed were so covered with dust and dirt that it was impossible to discern any object through them. Many parts of the building were in a ruinous con- dition, and, where the dilapidations were not dangerous, were left in that state ; but wherever some repairs were absolutely necessary to keep the structure together, they were made in the readiest and cheapest manner. The porch alone preserved its original character. It projected far beyond the door-way, and was ornamented with the arms of a former occupant of the habitation, carved in bold reiicf in oak, and supported by two mermaids sculptured in the same wood. All the lower windows were strongly grated, and darkened like the upper with long-accumulated dust. The door was kept constantly bolted and barred, even in the day-time ; and the whole building had a dingy, dismal, and dungeon-like aspect. Mr. Scarve's opposite neighbour, who was as curious as opposite neighbours generally are, and who was a mercer named Deacle, used to spend hours with his wife and daughter, who were as » 2 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. curious as hlmsclfj in reconnoiterinp; the miser's dwelling. But their curiosity was rarely, if ever, gratified, except that they occasionally saw some member of the family go forth, or retiu-n. Another constant spy upon the mysterious abode was Peter Pokcrich, a young barber and perruquier, occuj)ying the next liouse tQ the mercer, but whose motives were not, like the other's, entirely those of curiosit}'. Having completed his apprenticeship about a twelvemonth before, Peter Pokcrich had at that time settled in the Little Sanctuary, and had already obtained a fair share of business, being much employed in dressing the wigs of the lawyers fre(|uenting Westminster Hall. He was a smart, dap{)er little fellow, with no contemptible opinion of himself, cither as to mental or personal qualifications, and being deter- mined to push his fortune with the sex, had, in the first instance, paid very marked attentions to the mercer's daughter, Thomasine, or, as she was styled by her admirers, "the Fair Thomasine:** and these attentions, it was pretty evident, were not altogether unacceptable. Just, however, as he was on the eve of declaring himself^ and soliciting the hand of the fair Thomasine, with little apjirehension of a refusal, he accidentally beheld the miser's daughter, Hilda Scarve, and his inflanmiable heart taking fire at her beauty, which was indeed sufficiently ravishing to captivate a colder breast than his, he thenceforth became her slave, and could no longer endure the auburn locks, the hazel orbs, the pretty features, and plump little person, of the fair Thomasine, which had once appeared so attractive in his eyes. Another consideration was not without its weight in turning the scale of his affections. Hilda's father was reputed to be of immense wealth; she was his only child, at least so it was generally understood, and would, of course, inherit the whole of his vast hoards ; and as, furthermore, he was an old man, it could not, in the course of nature, be very long before the property must come to her. This consideration decided Peter in favour of the miser's daughter, and it was the hope of obtaining a glimpse of her that made him play the spy upon her father's dwelling. The repairs previously alluded to were made by the miser's servant, Jacob Post, who, on this occasion, stepped over the way to borrow a ladder from Mr. Deacle. For reasons of his own the mercer readily complied with the request, and when Jacob's work was done, and he brought back the ladder, he was invited by its owner to his back-parlour, where Mrs. Deacle and the fair Thomasine were seated, and where a substantial repast was laid out. Jacob was requested to sit down, and with some hesitation complied. A plate, loaded with cold beef, was next offered him, and he cleared it in an inconceivably short space of time. The plate was again filled, and again emptied, and as his appetite seemed in no ways stayed, and the edge-bone was nearly bared,' a large remnant of a potato-pie in a brown earthenware dish was THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 3 substituted. Tj the astonishment of the party, he soon disposed of it. These viands requirinf^ to be washed down, Mr. Deacle took a jug of ale, which stood at one corner of the table, and pouring oat a large foaming glass, offered it to his guest, winking as he did so at his wife, as nuich as to say, " We have him now." Whether or not Jacob saw the wink is of little import; he took the glass, drained it to the last drop, and sprang to his feet. "Why, you're not going?" cried Mr. Deacle. " Yps, I am," replied Jacob, in his deep, gruff voice. "Well — but stop a bit, I've something to say to 3'ou," rejoined Mr. Deacle. " Master 'II wonder vvhat I'm doing; here so Ion";," returned Jacob. " He watched me cross over with the ladder." " You should have thought of that before you sat down," re- marked Mrs. Deacle, somewhat spitefully. " If you would draw another jug of ale, my love, I dare say Mr. Jacob would risk incurring his master's displeasure, and sta}^ a few minutes longer." " No, I wouldn't," replied Jacob, looking at the same time wistfully at the jug. " No, I wouldn't,'' he added, slightly softening his tone. " Try him," whispered Mrs. Deacle to her spouse. Mr. Deacle took the hint, and likewise took up the jug, and winking at his wife, proceeded to a side door, opening upon a flight of stone steps, evidently leading to the lower part of the premises, and disappeared. With true feminine tact, Mrs. Deacle had perceived Jacob's weak point. He seemed spell-bjund. The temptation of the " other jug " was irresistible. He scratched his forehead with the point of his gveatthumb-nad, pushed up the little brown scratch wig covering the top of his head still higher, glanced at the door, but did not attempt to withdraw. The figure he now^ cut was so ridiculous that both ladies-burst into screams of laughter. Not in the slightest degree disconcerted, Jacob maintained his position, and eyed them with a look so stern that their merriment speedily died off in axpiaver* The Formidable certainly predominated over the Ridiculous in: Jacob's appearance. He was six feet two in height, with a large- boned frame, not encumbered with too much flesli, and immense hands and feet. Though slightly in-kneed, he held himself as erect as an old soldier. He had a grim black muzzle, a wide mouth garnished with keen white teeth, the snasticatory powers of which he had just so satisfactorily exhibited, thick and jetty eyebrows, and an enormous nose slightly tinged towards its ex- tremity with a mulberry hue. He wore an old grey cloth coat, of the formal cut in vogue about twenty years before, with a row of plate buttons extending from the collar to the skirts, as well as others on the pockets, and which, though it only reached to his knees, must have dangled down to its original owner's ankles. b2 4 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. His waistcoat was of the same material as the upper oarment, and evidently dated back to the same remote period. A dirty neck- cloth, looking positively white from its contrast with his swarthy chin, was twisted round his throat. He possessed great personal strength, and, indeed, was reported to have driven off, single- handed, three housebreakers, who had contrived one night to etfect an entrance into his master's habitation. It was thought that the miser retained him as much for self-defence as for his other services; and it was even said that in some money-lending transactions in which Mr. Scarve had been engaged with suspicious characters, Jacob stood by on guard. By this time, the mercer had returned with a jug, whose froth- ing head made Jacob's mouth water. Seeing the effect produced on him, Mr. Deacle indulged in a sly chuckle. " Ah , Jacob," he said, feigning a commiserating tone, " I fear you don't get such liquor as this with your master. He don't brew over strong — not too much malt and hops, eh }** " That's true enough, sir," replied Jacob, gruffly. " Do you get any ale at all, Jacob?" inquired Mrs. Deacle. *' No," replied Jacob, in a tone so abrupt that it made the good danio start, and elicited a slight scream from the fair Thomasine. " 'Odd's precious!" exclaimed Mrs. Deacle, "how the fellow port me, mother !" " What's the matter with you, Tommy, I say ?— are you going • distracted .^" cried the mercer. " Fetch the ratafia, my dear, and don't ask questions," replied his wife. "Don't you see there's been a secret attachment?" she added; in an under tone — " that deceitful little barber has plaved her fdse. But Pll bring him to his senses, Pll warrant "ihim. Poor thing! this is just the state I was thrown into when I heard of your going to Stourbridge Fair with cousin Sally. The ratafia ! the ratafia! — quick ! quick !" The mercer opened a cupboard, took out the cordial, jiave it to his wife, and then motioning Jacob to follow him, rushed out of the room so precipitately, that he overset a person who was listening at the door, and who proved to be no other than Peter pokerich. "What! you here, sir," cried Mr. Deacle, in astonishment. *'Then you've heard what has passed. Go in to my daugliter, and make her mind easy directly." "If he doesn't, Pll give him another taste of the crab-stick," added Jacob. " But it would be highly indecorous— highly improper, in mo to go in just now, Mr. Deacle," remonstrated Peter. "Not more indecorous, or improjier, than listening at tho door," rejoined the mercer. " Go in directly, sir." TPIE MISER'S DAUGHTER 7 ** A.y, go!" added Jacob, menacingly. And Peter, seeing opposition in vain, opened the door and sneaked in. A stifled scream and an hysterical laugh succeeded his entrance. The mercer accompanied Jacob to the street door, and, as he passed through the shop, pointed out the ditFerent rich stuifs to him. •'I wish you could induce your young mistress to come and look at my assortment of stuffs," he said ; " it is the choicest in town, though 1 say it, who shouldn't say it. I've garden silks, I.itlian silks, brocades, tissues, cloth of silver, ditto gold, fine Mantua silks, right Genoa velvets, English ditto, embossed ditto. Or if she wants conmioner stuffs, I've fine thread satins, both striped and plain, fine Mohair silks, satinets, burdets, Persianets, Norwich crapes, antcrines, silks for hoods and scarfs, hair camlets, sagathees, shalloons, and right Scotch plaids. Can you recollect all these articles?" " I should need a better memory than I have to recollect hall of 'em," replied Jacob. " I would send her some stuffs to look at, if you think her father wouldn't object," said the mercer: "this black velvet would suit her exactly, or this rich Italian silk." "It would cost me my place to take them," replied Jacob; *'and yet, as you say, they would become her purely. But it's of no use thinkin' of them," he added, walking away. "One word more, Jacob," said Mr. Deacle, detaining him, and whispering in his ear, " I didn't like to ask the question before the women — but they do say yoiu" master's a Papist and a Jacobite." " Who say so?" cried Jacob, loudly and grufHy. " Speak up and tell me!" "Why, the neighbours," replied the mercer, somewhat abashed 'OThen tell 'em from me that it's a lie," rejoined Jacob. And heedless of an}' further attempts to detain him, he strode away. One night, about a month after the incident above related, which took place at the latter end of April, 1744, just as Peter Pokerich was in the act of shutting up his shop, he observed a horseman turn out of King-street, and ride towards him. It was sufficiently light to enable him to discover, on a nearer approach, that the stranger was a young man, about one or two and twenty, with a tall, well-proportioned figure, at once vigorous and symmetrical, extremely regular and finely-foriued features, glowing with health and manly beauty, and slightly, though not unbecomingly, embrowned bv exposure to the sun. Apparently disdaining to follow the fashion of the period, or proud of his own waving brown locks, the young man suffered them to fall in their native luxuriance over his shoulders. The fashion of his dark green riding dress — which, ill made as it appeared in 8 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. the e3'es of the knowing barber, revealed his fine figure to great advantage — as well as his general appearance, proclaimed him from the country. Looking hard at Peter as he advanced, the stranger drew up beside him. " Can you tell me where Mr. Scarve lives?" he asked. Peter started, and stared at his interrogator in speechless astonishment. The young man looked surprised in his turn, and repeated the inquiry. " Miser Starve— beg pardon ! — Mr. Scarve ? but he's generally known by the former name hereabouts," cried Peter. " Oh yes, sir, I do know where Mr. Scarve lives." " Then, probably, you will have the goodness to direct me to the house," returned the young man. "This is the Little Sanctuary, is it not ?" "Yes, sir! yes!" replied Peter. "But what may be your busmess with Miser Starve — beg pardon again I — Mr. Scarve ?" " My business is not of much consequence," rejoined the young man, somewhat coldly and haughtily, "but it refers to Mr. Scarve himself" " Beg pardon, sir — no offence, I hope," returned Peter, in a deprecatory tone ; " but Mr. Starve — bless me ! how my tongue runs — Mr. Scarve is such a very odd man. He wont see you unless your business is very particular. Will 3'ou favour me with your name, sir?"' " My name is Randulph Crew," returned the stranger. " Crew — Crew !" repeated Peter ; " that should be a Cheshire name. Excuse the liberty, but are you from that county, sir?" . "I am — I am !" replied the other, impatiently. " Ah ! knew it at once, sir. Can't deceive me," rejoined Peter. " Fine head of hair, sir, very fine ; but must lose it. Very well for Cheshire — but won't do in London. Ladies will laugh at you. Nothing so nngenteel as one's own hair. I have a fine head of hair myself, but can't wear it. Must have a peruke. Perukes are as essential to a gentleman now-a-days as lace to his clothes. Pve wigs of all sorts, all fashions, all prices : the minor-bob; the Sunday buckle; the bob-major; the apothe- cary's bush; the physical and chirurgical tie; the scratch, or blood's skull covering; the Jehu's Jemmy, or white-and-all- white; the campaign; and the llamillies. Step in, and I'll sliow you the last new periwig — the Villiers — brought in by the great 6eau of that name — heard of him, I dare say, sir, — atid which all our brights, ^marts, putts, and jemmies are wearing. Tvc the counterpart of Beau Villiers's own periwig, which, between our- selves — tor it nmst go no further — I obtained from his gentle- man, Mr. Crackenthorpe Cripps. It's quite a wonder. Do step in, sir, and look at it. It'll quite ravish you." " Thank you, friend, 1 am content with the covering luiture has given my head," replied Randulph. THE ISnSER'S DAUGHTER. 9 "And with veiy good reason, sir," replied Peter; *'but fashion, sir, — fashion is arbitrary, and has decreed that no man shall wear his own hair. Therefore, you must, perforce, sir, adopt the periwig." " Will you show me Mr. Scarve's residence, or must I apply for information elsewhere ?" cried the young man, wearied with the barber's loquacity. " Not so fast, sir,— not so fast," replied Peter. " I must tell you something about the old gentleman first. Do you know him, sir?" Randulph Crew uttered a hasty negative. *' Then 1 do,^'' pursued Peter. " Terrible miser, sir — terrible ! —denies himself all the comforts of existence — makes his fmiily and servants live upon a bare bone for a week — thinks of no- thing but his gold — and, as to his danghter — " " Oh, he has a daughter, has he ?" interrupted Randulph. " I was not aware of it. Is she at all like him?" *' Like him ! — no !" echoed Peter. " She's beautiful beyond description." But thinking such commendation rather injudi- cious in the present case, he checked himself as maladroitly as a horse pulled up too suddenly, and added, " At least some people say so ; but, for my own part, I can see nothing to admire in her." " Well, perhaps I may judge for myself," observed Randulph. " Perhaps you may," quavered Peter. " He's just the man to captivate her," he thought. " I wish I could misdirect him ; but must probably Jacob wont admit him." " And now, friend, will you show me the house !' cried Randulph. " With pleasure, sir — with pleasure," replied Peter, pointing to the opposite habitation ; " there it is, at the corner." Vexed at having been so long and so unnecessarily detained, Randulph Crew turned his horse's head, and dismounting before the miser's door, knocked loudly against it with the butt-end of his heavy riding-whip. Peter anxiously watched his proceed- ings; but as no answer was returned to the summons, he began to hope the young man would go away; but in this he was dis- appointed, for the latter renewed his application, and did not desist till checked by the gruff voice of Jacob Post, who shouted from a little grated window, through which he reconnoitered the intruder, "Halloo! what's the matter? — who's there?" " Is Mr. Scarve at home ?" asked Randulph. " I want to sec him." "Then you can't," rejoined Jacob, in his harshest accents, but which sounded like music in the ears of the attentive Peter. " But I must and will," rejoined Randulph, in a pereuij^tory tone. " I have a packet to deliver to him — to his own liands — • an important packet. Tell him that." " A Jacobite, I'll be sworn," cried Peter, to himself " I must 10 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. watch him narrowly. I should feci gratified iii being the means ct" hanging that young man." *' Well, I'll take your message to my master," growled Jacob, after a short pause. " But I must scnithiize you a little before I admit you. You seem to me, as far as I can make out, to hii\e a good deal of the cnt of a highwayman about you." " lie, he, he ! — good, Jacob — good !" tittered Peter. Some minutes elapsed before Jacob, who had disappeared, returned. A heavy tread was heard along the passage leading to the door, succeeded by the rattling of a chain, the clanking of bars, and the shooting back of a couple of ponderous bolts. 'J'hc ;^oman of infinite spirit and wit, and her daughter, Clementina " " The most beautiful creature you ever beheld!" supplied Abel, laughing drily; " and you have already lost your heart to her." " So far from thinking her the most beautiful creature I ever beheld," returned Randulph, " she is not to compare with — with " He was about to add the name of the miser's daughter, but the looks of his uncles, both of which were fixed on him, though with a very different expression, checked him. " I know what you are about to say, Randulph," observed uncle Abel, sternly; "you were going to mention Hilda Scarve. Once THE miser's daughter. 35 for all, let me caution you against alluding to her. I have a par- ticular reason for disliking her father — for hating him, indeed, for ni}' feelings towards him are of the bitterest kind, and I cannot endure to hear of any one connected with him." " Well, su", your wishes shall be obeyed, so far as it is in my power to obey rhem," replied Randulph; " but I should not be dealing frankly with you, if I did not tell you that I think them a little unreasonable. I can easily understand that Mr. Scarve may have offended you, but his daughter " " Randulph," cried Abel, fixing his grey eye upon him, " you are in love with that girl, or rather, you fancy yourself so; for love, though sown at once, requires time to bring it to maturity. You must subdue this passion, if you entertain it. The daughter of such a man must inherit some of his bad qualities." " There I think you are unjust, sir," rejoined Randulph. ** And, grant that the father may be objectionable, the mother, whom she evidently takes after, may have been " " Randulph!" exclaimed Abel, interrupting him with a sharp cry, "would 30U drive me mad?" " What have I said, sir?" asked the young man, in astonish- ment. " For Heaven's sake, hold your tongue !" wh'spered uncle Trus- sell, who had in vain been endeavouring to attract his nephew's attention. " Don't you see he can't bear to talk of these Scarves?" Randulph was greatly disconcerted. In vain he tried to rally; no subject for conversation occurred to him ; but at last uncie Trussell came to his relief. " We are soing; to breakflist with Beau Villiers to-morrow morning, sir," he said to his brother. " We were asked to Lady Fiizakerly's drum to-night: and Lady Brabazon invited us to accompany her to Ranelagh." " And why didn't you go?" asked Abel, peevishly. " Because, sir, I thought it might not be agreeable to you," returned Trussell. " Pshaw ! what care I about it!" rejoined Abel. " Plunge your charge over head and ears in dissipation ! Surfeit him, as the grocers do their apprentices with sweets ! Never mind me in fiiture. Do what you will." Uncle Trussell winked at Randulph. " We'll take him at his word," he whispered. But Randulph took no notice of the signal. His heart was too fully occupied with Hilda Scarve; and he felt a rising dislike to uncle Abel which he could not conquer. Excusing himself from taking more wine, he repaired to the Garden, and entered the summer-house, where he gazed at the broad and beautiful river flowing past it, and the venerable Abbey on the opposite shore, near which she dwelt whom he now began to acknowledge was mistress of his heart. Ji2, S6 THE MISER'S DArGIITER. CHAPTER VI. THE MISER AND JACOB — A THIRD NEPHEW — A DINNER AT THE 3i:SE;;"s — HTLDa'S OPINION OF HER COUSIN. Nothing very particular occurred at the miser's dwellino; after R uidulph's departure. ]Mr. Scarve took a large nccoiuit-book from the box beneath his table, together with several ])apcrs, from which he proceeded to nialce extracts; and he thus employed himfclf for more than an hour and a half, when, his farthing candle having burnt down into the socket, he intimarecl to his daugliter and Mrs. Clinton that it was time to retire to re=;t. " You have sat up longer than usual," he said, •' and I have been so busy that I quite forgot to bid you to go to bed. Hilda, your cousin, Philip Frewin, will dine here to-morrow." " Yon have told me that before, sir," she replied, coldly. **'And I have told you also, that it is my wish j^ou should receive him graciously," rejoined the miser. " Don't say a word more on the subject. Good night, daughter — good night, sister Clinton. Here, Jacob, light the ladies up stairsi I have settled my accounts, and don't want the candle." Jacob obeyed, and the ladies were conducted to their room, to retire to rest, as usual, in the dark. A moment arter>vards, Jacob feturned, and set the expiring candle on the table. " Well, Jacob," said the miser to him, "what did you think of our visitor to-da^'?" " What did you think of him, sir?" returned Jacob, evasively. " Pretty well," replied Mr. Scarve. " Not wanting in good looks — but improvident — thoughtless in the extreme." " Don't think so/' rejoined Jacob, gruffl}'. "You're nojutlge of character," rejoined the miser, sharply. " I read the spendthrift in his whole appearance and demeanour. In short, Jacob, I would rather see no more of him. If he slinuld call again, which is not unlikely, thou:.;h I gave him a broad enough hint that his visits would be anything but agree- able, you will deny me and my daughter to him." " VVhat !" exclaimed Jacob, "do you mean to shut 3'our doors against the son of your old friend? Is that acting like a gentle- man, let alone a Christian?" " The lad is ascrapegrace, Jacob — a senseless, romantic scrape- grace," rejoined the miser. " Don't think so," replied Jacob "He has given away his fortune," said the miser. " He'll get it back in time," was the rejoinder. *' Jacob, you're a fool !" said the miser. " Fool or not," replied Jacob, " if I were you, I would marry my daughter to that young man." THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. f57 "When I ask your advice on tnesnbject, it will be time enouiih to offer it," rejoined the miser. "Yon may now retire, Jacob. Bnt first go over the house and see that all's safe. I thought I heard a noise in the cellar last night." "It was the rat.-, sir," replied Jacob. "Indeed!" replied the miser; "then the rats make a pretty chattering with their jaws. Jacob, I suspect it was you." " Well, then, it ivas me," replied Jacob, doggedly. " Oh ! you confess it?" replied the miser, uneasily. "Where do vou get your victuals from ? Who supplies you with them, eh?" " Never you mind, sir," replied Jocob ; " so as it doesn't cost you anythin', you needn't care." "True, true!" said the miser; " and yet I should hke to know how you get your food." " I don't steal it," replied Jacob. " But sec, the candle's goin' out — you had better go to bed." " You're right, Jacob," said the old man. " Good night ! Be sure you look to the house." With this he crept off to his own chamber, and, just as he reached it, the candle expired. Mr. Scarve always arose at daybreak, and gencrall}' spent two or three hours before breakfast at his accounts. On the morning following the events previously related, he remained longer than usual in his own I'oom, and when sunnnoncd to breakfast by Mrs. Clinton at nine o'clock, he descended with a large deed under his arm. Ttie family breakfast consisted of milk and water, the proportions being one-third of the former liquid to two of the latter — a small loaf of bread, but neither butter nor meat. Of this meagre fare all jjarties partook sparingly, and the meal was soon ended. Hilda had generally little appetite, but on this occasion she ate le^s than usual, and her father remarked it. " Ijcar you are not well to-day," he said ; " I am sorry for it, for I wished you to be in good looks to receive your cousin." " I have no wish to see him," she replied, with a look of inex- pressible disgust. " Then you have no wish to please me," he rejoined. The miser made no further remark at the time, but when the scanty remains of breakfast were removed, and he was left alone •with his daughter, he said — "Hilda, I want a word with you. I liave long desired to converse with you on a subject nearest my heart. It relates to your cousin, Philip Frewin. You can scarcely be ignorant that he seeks 3'our hand. But if you are ignorant of his intentions, I must now acquaint 3'ou with them. I have a very high opinion of him, not merely because he is my nephew, but because he is a very prudent, careful person, and will take care of what he has got. He is directly the reverse of the weak young man who was here last nijjht." 38 THE miser's daughter. " So he appears, sir," replied Hilda, siiiiiificantly. " Philip is very rich, Hilda," pursued the miser ; '^ he is worth filty thousand pounds, if he is worth a penny. And, in short, it is my pleasure, if he should propose to you, as I expect lie will, that you accept him." " Then it is fit, dear father, that you should know what my answer will be to his proposal," she replied. " What will it be ?" asked the miser. *' A positive and decided refusal," she returned. *' Hilda !" exclaimed the miser, furiously — " Hilda !" " Do not urge me further, father," she rejoined, calmly ; " upon this point I am firm." " You are captivated by the fair face and showy figure of the prodigal who was here last night," cried Mr. Scarve, carried away bv his passion ; '' but mark me, I will never consent to such a match. If you wed him, neither he nor you, nor any child or children of yours, shall ever have a penny of mine ! — " I'll dis- inherit you all ! He is a beggar, and a beggar's wife you shall be. If the fool had but kept fast hold of the estates, all might 'have been well — I might have consented; but as it is, I will 'never listen to his suit. No, Hildtt," he continued, moderating himself, " the husband for you is Philip Frewin, my sister's son — one who knows the value of money, and will take care of it, — one who hates extravagance in all ways. I can commend him as a thoroughly well principled, well-conducted young man." " He may be all you describe, — though I doubt it," she replied ; *'but I do not desire to marry." "Tush!" rejoined the miser, impatiently — "every wom.an desires to marry. It is her first object — what she is brought up for — the end and aim of her existence." " But surely, fcither," replied Hilda, with a half smile, " every woman desires to marry the man she loves. Her heart must have ■something to do with her choice." " Pshaw !" cried the miser, " mere idle talk, — mere girl's l\incy. Before you have been married a week, you will love your husband better than any man in the world. A husband should not be chosen for his good looks, but for his good qualities; for his pecuniar^^, rather than his personal advantages ; and for his ability to take care of you, your property, and your children. Such a one is Philip Frewin — such a one is not Randulph Crew." "I wish you would not mention Randulph Crew so often, father," replied Hilda, in some little confusion; "I do not under- stand why his name should be brought forward." " Nor I," rejoined the miser; " and I'll take care not to mention it again. But enough has been said on the subject. You know my wishes; don't dispute them. Go to your chamber, child; go to your chamber !" And he turned away from her to pore over THE miser's daughteu. 39 the deed before him. Hilda gazed at him for a moment, irrc- sohitely, and then sighing deej^ly, withdrew. A guest being expected to dinner, some little preparation was made. The repast was to consist of a few ribs of beef baked upon half-a-dozen potatoes, followed by a small batter pudding, like- wise baked. Punctually at two o'clock, at which hour the miser dined, a knock was heard at the door, and Jacob, answering the summons, admitted a tall, thin young man, with very sharji features, dressed in an old worn-out grey cloth coat, with plated metal buttons, that might have belonged to his grandfather; a tattered ])liisli waistcoat; darned worsted hose; a scratch wig, looking as if it had been picked up in the kennel; and old shoes, with high quarters fastened by small iron buckles. This extraordinary ])crsonage was welcomed with great cordiality by his uncle, who seemed to contemplate his miserable appearance with the utmost satisfaction. Hilda, however, would scarcely behave civilly to him, though the young man paid her great attention, and whenever her father's back was turned, put on a manner that filled her with disgust. At the close of dinner, the miser called for wine, and a bottle was brought him, containing barely a glass, as was proved when Jacob poui'ed it out. Mr. Scarve pressed his nephew to take it, but the young man declined. The miser then raised the glass to his lips, but put it down untasted, observing — " No, I don't require it — indeed, I am better without it. Put it back again, Jacob. I drink your health, nephew, in a glass of water." " And I return the pledge in the same wholesome beverage," returned Philip Frewin. " I never take any other, sir," he added, ogling Hilda in an intolerable manner. " I drink to you, fair cousin," and as he spoke he gulped down a large dra"ght, but with a very bad grace. "i don't think for all he sa^'S that he's accustomed to such draughts," thought Jacob. " He doesn't look like a water- drinker." Dinner was no sooner over than Hilda withdrew with her aunt to her own room ; nor would she, though her father c^ent Jacob to summon her, return. . _, " Girls have strange fancies, Philip," he said to his nephew. " Her mother was just as whimsical. I don't think, though she married me, that she cared for me." " Since I have your consent to the match, sir, that is all I care for,'' replied Philip. "Love will come in good time. 31y cousin Hilda is a charming girl, and would be a prize without a penny, but with what you propose to give her — " " To leave her, Philip — to leave her — not to give her !" inter- rupted the miser, hastily. "I shall give her nothing during my iifetimc." 40 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " Not make any settlement ?" asked Philip, uneasily "None whatever," replied the miser; "but I shall require a settlement on yonr part. You are rieh, PhiHj), and can make a good settlement." " No settlement on 3'our part, uncle !" muttered Fiewin, "and a larjiic one demanded on mine ! This requires consideration." " No, it doesn't," said the miser, sharply; " for if you hesitate, yon sha'n't have her. My daugiiter shall not be refused by any man, even by my sister's son. You shall take her on my terms, or not at all." " I will gladly take her so, uncle," replied Philip. " You will do wisely," rejoined the miser, more calmly. *' And now I have good news for you, Phil — rare news ! You know — for our attorney, Diggs, will have told you— that I have advanced fourteen thousand pounds to Sir Bulkcley Price on the mortgage of one of his estates in Flintshire. Now, the estate is M'orth upwards of twenty thousand pounds — perhaps moi'c, because there are several copper mines upon it. Well, I have given Sir Bulkeley notice to pay over the money. He has paid no attention to the application; and if I do not receive the money at six o'clock, at which hour it must be paid or tendered, I shall foreclose — yes, foreclose, nephew — and the estates will become mine — your wife's hcreaftSV, and your children's." '' And vdnc," thought Philip. " I sincerely congratulate you, uncle," he added, aloud, " and hope nothing may happen to de})rive you of your rights." " Nothing is likely to happen now, Philij)," replied Mr. Scarve. "The estate is as good as my own — I have just been reading over the description of it in the deed of mortgage — and a noble estate it is. But since Hilda wont come down, it is scarcely worth while for you to stay longer. Come and dine with me this day week, and I will try and fix the day. Mean- while, I will speak with my daughter, and bring her to her senses." " I am glad to hear you say so, uncle," rejoined Philip, "for I almost began to fear there might be a rival in the case." "A rival! — pshaw^ !" cried the miser, with a slightly embar- rassed look. " It is true that Mr. Randulph Crew called here last night; — he is a very handsome young man, and fit to win a girl's heart. But I don't think Hilda heeded him." " Indeed, sir !" replied Philip, uneasily. "Well, never mind what impression he made — she is mine, if you give her to me." " And that I do, nephew — on the terms I have mentioned, but no other," rejoined the miser. "Tuesday next, at two. Jacob, show Mr. Frewin to the door. Good bye, nephew — ■ good bye !" Philip was then ushered forth by Jacob, who eyed him surlily askance, as he conducted him to the door, and shook his hand behind his back as he departed. THE miser's daughter. 41 *'That sl^inflint shall ncvci" marry my young missis," lie mut- tered, " if I can prevent it." On reaching King-street, Philip Frewin snapped his fingers; derisively in the air, and quickening his pace, did not stop till he reached the door of a tavern in the Rhenish Wine-yard,, in that street, and entering it, proceeded at once to a private room^ Then, hursting into a loud laugh, he dashed, his old wig to the ground, and trampled upon it; threw ofl' his tattered coat and waistcoat, and proceeded to rid himself of the rest of his attirc„ He next equipped himself in a smart suit of green velvet, put on a campaign wig, and added lace ruffles to his shirt. " I am glad to ixet rid of those horrid masquerade habiliments,'* he muttered; "the part is a devilish disagreeable one to act. But no matter — it is worlli playing! My fair cousin will like me all the better when she knows my real character. And now I must hasten to Diggs, to tell liiui how I have prospered, and instruct him how to proceed." On being informed by Jacob of her obnoxious cousin's depar- ture, Hilda came down stairs with her aunt, and bore her father's reproaches with a meekness that, instead of allaying his fury, served to increase it. At length she ventured to say, " Why do you wish me married, sir? I am quite content as I am, and could not be happier. I think — nay, I am sure — if I quitted you, you would feel \ery desolate." " Weigh that over before it's too late," interposed Jacob. *'I'm sure / should feel very desolate. I don't think I'd stop with you." " Hold your tongue, sirrah !" cried the miser, sharpl}'. *' I can live very well alone, Hilda," he added, turning to her, "and I should like to see you comfortably settled before I die. I don'£ want you to become the prey of an adventurer." " It^that is all you are afraid of, father, you may rest quite easy," she replied. " And do not suppose I speak from any feeling of prejudice, but I think you are deceived in my cousin.'* " Deceived, Hilda! In what way?" asked the miser. "By his apparent carefulness— by the manner in which he seems to adapt himself to your notions and peculiarities," she replied. " Recollect, too, that, owing to circimistances, you have seen and known so little of him, that, but for the fact of iiir/ being your nephew, he might be an entire stranger. Forgive me, sir, if I say yoii arc not acting; in this case with your usual, caution. You trust too much to Philip's own representations." "You think so," said the miser — "but you are wrong. I liave made inquiries through one who would not deceive ine — - my attorney, Mr. Diggs — and I am assured that Philip is the most careful person breathing." " I hope you don't except yourself," muttered Jacob. " In fact, I hear nothing but i^ood of him from Diggs," pur- 42 THE miser's daughter. sued the miser, not choosing to notice the reniarlc ; "and what is better, I know — for I have seen the will — that his father left hitri fifty thousand pounds — fifty thousand pounds, Hilda! — twenty of which he shall settle on you." " Do not suffer this notion to get })osses3ion of you, I entreat, dear father," she replied. "If he had a million of money, I wotdd never marry Pliilip Frewin." Here Mrs. Clinton, who had in vain endeavoured to throw in a word, interposed, and engaged Hilda in conversation. The miser referred to his mortgage-deed ; and the description of the estate, which he looked upon as his own, restored him to good teuif)cr. CHAPTER Vn. THE PAYMENT OF THE MORTGAGE MONEY, Nearly an hour having elapsed, Mr. Scarve arose, and called to Jacob, who had retired to the cellar. The summons not being answered as expeditiously as he desired, he called again, and Jacob made his ajipearancc, brushing the moisture from his lips, and trying to swallow down a huge morsel that stuck in his throat. " You have been eating, rascal !" cried the miser, " and drink- inix, too! Faush ! how the knave smells of beer !" " If I have been catin' and drinkin','' said Jacob, clearing his throat by a violent effort, "it hasn't been at your expense." " Well, go and see what's o'clock," said the miser, who did not appear particularly angry. " What's o'clock !" exclaimed Jacob, in surprise. " Why, I've lived with you th'^se twenty years, and never was sent on such a message before. What do you want to know what's o'clock for?" " What's that to 3'ou, sirrah?" rejoined the miser, with more anger in his words than in his tones or looks. " But I'll tell you thus much, I never in my life wished a day to be passed so n)uch ■as I do this !" " You excite my curiosit}', father," said Hilda. " Why do you wish it passed ?" " Because, if a certain sum of money is not paid to me before 6ix o'clock, I shall be the possc-sor of one of the finest estates in Wales,*' replied the miser. "It must now be five; in another hour I shall be safe — safe, Hilda ! — the mortgage will be fore- closed — the estate mine ! Mr. Diggs will be here at six. If I obtain this prize, Jacob, you shall drink my health in the glass of wine I put back in the bottle." " Then it'll be the first time I ever so drunk it," replied Jacob. " Take care it isn't the last, you thankless varlet," rejoined (WiM. ^r^uksWliff^^ Sir Bulkeley Price iDrmging the mortgage money to M^ Scaive . THE miser's daughter. 43 the miser. " Don't stand chattering there ! Go and see what's o'clock." As Jacob departed to obey his injunction, Mr. Scarve paced to and fro within the room, rubbing liis hands, and chuckling to himself. Five minutes nearly elapsed before Jacob returned; and when he did so, it was with a countenance of very peculiar significance. " Well, is it five ?" cried the miser. "No; it's fourteen," replied Jacob. "lourteen!" exclaimed the miser. "What do you mean? You're drunk, sirrah — drunk on the promise of a glass of wine." " No, I'm not," replied Jacob. " I mean that there is a troop of fourteen horsemen at the door. There! — don't you hear 'em? They make noise enough, I should think." And as he spoke, a loud knocking, mixed with shouts and laughter, came sounding down the passage. " It is the mortgage-money, father," said Hilda. " It is — damnation !" cried the miser, stamping on the ground. '^ At first I took the troop for a gang of highwaymen," said Jacob, " when their leader, a fat, bloated old fellow, calls out to me in an imperious lone, ' Tell your master, the miser,' savs he, * that Sir Bulkeley Price has brought him his mone}'. He is not yet owner of an estate in Flintshire.' And then all his followers burst out a laughin'; and I don't think they've done yet." "Curses on them!" cried the miser, furiously, "and on him too ! They sha'n't enter my dwelling. I wont receive the money. Send them away ! Tell them I'm not at home, Jacoo!" "It wont do, sir," replied Jacob; " they know you're at home, for I told 'em so. And as to refusing the monc}^, why should you do that? They have brought it in great bags — bags of gold, of five hundred pounds each.' " Five hundred devils !" cried the miser, foaming with rage. ^'What! bring such a sum as that in broad day! I shall be exposed to all my prying neighbours." " That you will," rejoined Jacob ; " they're all at the windows looking on. There's Mr. Deacle, the mercer, over the way, and his ~Vfit'e and daughter; and the inquisitive little barber next door ; and the ironmonger's wife and her family at the Black- amoor's Head; and the vintner's at the Man-in-the-Moon, and—" " Hold your peace," cried the miser, furiously, " or I'll strangle you ! I'll not be insulted thus by any man! Fetch me my sword !" "Father!" exclaimed Hilda, "why do you excite yourself thus? Sir Bulkeley Price has but done what was right; he has brought you back your money," " What is it o'clock, Jacob ? — did you ascertain that ?" cried the miser. 44 THE miser's daughter, " Not five, sir, — not five," replied Jacob. "Oh! perdition seize him! he is in time," cried the miser. " But I'll be revenn;ed. I'll have his blood if I can't have the estate. My sword, Jacob ! What ! you wont move ? Nay, then, I'll fetch it myself." And openinn; a side-door, he rushed up a small fliijht of ^teps leading to his bedroom. " Some mischief will happen, Jacob," cried Hilda, with a ter- rified look. " I never saw my father so agitated before. I'll go forth myself, and entreat Sir Bulkeley to depart." " Don't expose yourself to the insults of his servants, miss,'* rejoined Jacob. " I did not tell master a quarter what they said of him." But despite his entreaties, and those of her aunt, who also endeavoured to detain her, she rushed forth, followed by Jacob. On gaining the street, Hilda found Jacob's statement perfectly correct. A troop of fourteen horsemen, with Sir Bulkeley Price at their head, were drawn up in front of the house. Most of them were well mounted, though a few of the number rode stout Welch ponies. All had swords at their sides, and pistols in their holsters, as was needful from the amount of motiey they carried ; every man having been provided with two bags, each containing five hundred pounds in gold, slung over his saddle-bow. A pile of these precious sacks lay at the door, and some of the men were now adding to the heap, while others were unslinging bags from their comrades' saddles. The whole company were in high glee, and laughing loudly. The leader of the troop. Sir Bulkeley Price, was a stout, portly gentleman, whose swollen intiaincd cheeks and mulberry nose showed he was by no means indif- ferent to the pleasures of the table. A claret-coloured velvet riding-coat, buttoned to the throat, displayed his full chest and rather commanding figiue to advantage ; while a well-powdered, full-bottomed periwig contrasted strongly with his rubicund and fiery visage. Hilda's appearance created a great sensation among the lookers-on, and especially attracted the attention of the barber, who was chattering with Mr. Deacle about the occurrence, and of the fair Thomasine, who was leaning out of an upper window, just above her father's sign of the Three Pigeons. " There's Miss Scarve !" cried Peter, calling to Thomasine. " I see her," replied the mercer's daughter. " Poor thing, how I pity her — to be exposed to such insults 1 I long to fly to her assistance." " Uo, do !" cried Peter. " Pll fly with you." " No, don't," saitl Mr. Deacle; " you had better not interfere. Lord bless me ! I wonder what it all means." Heedless of what was passing around her, for she heard her father's furious voice in the passage, Hilda rushed towards Sir Bulkeley Price, and, in a tone of the most earnest entreaty, cried. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 45 ** Oil, sir, I implore you to p;o away! My father is fearfully incensed — some miselnef Avill happen!" "You are Mr. Scarve's daughter, I presume?" returned Sir Buikeley, politely taking off his hat. "I should never have sus- pcc'lcd liim of owning aught so beautiful. But why should I go away. Miss Scarve ? I am merely come to pay your father a sum of money which I borrowed from him." "But it is the manner of paying it, sir, — the public manner, — the exposure that incenses him," cried Hilda. " I would not for twice the amount, that this had happened." "I dare say not," replied Sir Buikeley; " but your father has forced me into the measure. My estate would iiave been for- feited if I had not repaid the money by six o'clock. It is as unpleasant to me as it can be to him; but I had no alternative." At this moment a loud, angry cry was heard at the door, and the miser a])peared, brandishing his drawn sword at it. His ni . career was opposed by Jacob, whose wig was knocked off in his endeavours to push him backwards. " Vilhiin!' cried the miser, shaking his hand at Sir Buikeley, *' villain, you shall repent your insolence ! Release me, Jacob ! Let me get at him !" " No, you shVnt !" replied Jacob, who had to exert all his strength, such was the miser's fury, to keep hini back. Mr. Scarve's vociferations of rage were now drowned by the hootings and jeers of the Welch baronet's attendants, who did all in their power to incense him further. Terrified by the cries, Hilda clasped her hands in agou}^, and again addressed herself to Sir Buikeley. " As you are a gentleman, sir, I beseech you to withdraw," she said. " Such an appeal, and from such lips, is irresistible," replied Sir Buikeley, again raising his hat. " He is no gentleman, Hilda!" shrieked her father, who over- heard what was said. " Come away, girl, I command you — leave him to me!" *^Well crowed, old cock!" cried one of the attendants, in mockery. And all laughed jeermgly, as before. " Hold your tongues, you saucy knaves !" cried Jacob, fiercely regarding them; " or as soon as I'm at liberty, I'll break some of your addle pates." " For pity's sake, — go, go !" cried Hilda to the baronet, " and take the money with you. Another time will do for payment." "Pardon me, Miss Scarve," replied Sir Buikeley; "another lime will not do. I mustn't jeopardize my estate. — Mr. Scarve," /le shouted to the miser, " here is your money — fourteen thousand pounds, in gold. — Friends," he added, looking round at the crowd of spectators in the street, and at the windows, " I call you all 46 THE miser's daughter. to witness, that this money is paid before six o'elock. I will take your word, Miss Scarve, for a receipt, and for the deliverinor up of the mortgage deeds." "Take hence your money, villain!" vociferated the miser, "I want none of it." This exclamation was followed by a roar of derisive laughter from the baronet's attendants. " Silence them — oh, silencp them, sir!" cried Hilda, implor- ingly. Sir Bulkeley looked majestically round, and his attendants ])ccame instantly mute. At the same time, Jacob forced Mr. Scarve into the house ; and Hilda, hastily expressing her thanks to flic baronet, withdrew. In a few seconds, the whole of the bags of money were collected, and placed on the threshold. Sir Bulkeley would not, however, depart till Jacob returned, when he committed the lieap to his custody. " What have you done with your master?" he asked. " He has fainted, and his daughter is tending him," replied Jacob. "Well, take him that restorative," rejoined Sir Bulkelev, pointing to the money-bags; "it will speedily revive him." So saying, he rode off with his followers, amid the acclamations of the spectators. The same persons next began to hoot Jacob, and even seemed disposed to assail him ; but being now provided with his crabstick, he presented such a menacing and formidable appearance, that those nearest him slunk off. In tbe hurry of the moment, it has been omitted to mention, that when Hilda retired, the fair Thoinasine uttered a scream, and fainted. Made aware of the circiunstance, both by the cry and the disappearance of the mercer and his wife from the windows, Peter Pokerich quitted his own dwelling, and Hew to render aid. With sonic little difficulty, the sensitive damsel was brought to herself; but when restored to consciousness, she was very palpitating and hysterical, and leaned against the wall, with her head upon her hand, in the attitude of a tragic heroine. " Oh, the indignities that that sweet creature has endured !" she gasped. "She is a model of filial piety, and more to bo admired than the Grecian Daughter." " Much more," said Peter, " though I don't recollect the par- ticular attractions of the lady you mention." " Would I were her friend !" cried the fair Thomasine. " Would I might pour my sorrows into her sj'mpathetic bosom !" " What hinders you from doing so ?" asked the barber. An hysterical sob w^as all the fair Thomasine's answer. " Fourteen tlK)usand pounds !" exclaimed Peter, almost uncon- scioush'. " What a fortune Hilda Scarve will be !" " She would be a fortune without a farthing," cried the fair Thomasine. THE miser's daughter. 47 Meantime the crowd dispersed; bat not before Jacob had noticed some suspicious-looking personages eyeing the bags of treasure lying at the door in a very alarming manner. "I shall have to keep strict watch to-night," he thought. " Such a public delivery of money as this is almost an induce- ment to robbery. We ought to have a couple of watchmen." Thus ruminating, he removed the whole of the bags, twenty- eight in number, and each containing five hundred pounds, into the passage. He then locked, bolted, and barred the door, and afterwards conveyed the treasure into the room generally used by Mr. Scarve. The miser, as he had stated to Sir Bulkeley, had fainted. The unhappy man recovered just as Jacob brought in the last two bags, and seeing the treasure before him, uttered a wild shriek, broke from his daughter and sister-in-law, who were tending him, and, throwing himself upon the heap, relapsed into insensibility. CHAPTER Vni. THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER — THE LANDLORD OF THE ROSE AND CROWN — CORD\VELi:* FIEEBRAS. It will now be necessary, for a short space, to retrace the current of our story. Peter Pokerich, as related in a previous chapter, crossed over to his own house with the letter he had abstracted from Randulph's saddle-bags, and immediately proceeding to examine it, found it was adih-essed to Mr. Cordwell Firebras, at the Rose and Crown, Gardiner's-street, Petty France. This not tending greatly to enlighten him, he tried to obtain a peep at its contents by pressing down the sides between his finger and thumb ; but not being able to make out anything in this way, bis curiosity got the master of him, and he broke the seal; but so dexterously and carefully, that he felt confident he could restore I he letter to its original appearance if needful. He then read as follows : — "Friend Cordwell, — The bearer of this letter is just the man you want. He's a bold rider; always in at the death; and as rash and daring as our young squire himself The game I sent you was seized by the keepers, as perhaps you may havo heard; but Pll forward another basket shortly by a safer con- veyance. Don't be in a hurry about coming over to us ; and tell the young squire we can't promise him much sport this season. The game is plenty, but our kennel is but thinly stocked. The old pack is nearly broken up ; Talbot and Ringwood have been 'iiced away by old George's keeper; and we shall do no good unless the great squire on t'other side of the river will send us a strong pack of harriers, of the best French breed. We want 48 THE miser's daughter. some Scotch terriers sadly, for tlie rats are greatly on ihe increase. If the young squire can manaiie this, the sooner he comes the better, but not otherwise. Meanwhile, I again advisa you to engage the bearer of this letter. " Your assured friend, *' Xed Poyntox." This letter was a complete enigma to the barber. He read ii over and over again, but could make neither head nor tail of it. He could not helj) thinking that more was meant than met the eye, but still lie could not penetrate the mystery. He determined, however, to call the next morning at the Rose and Crown to make some inquiries after Mr. Cordwell Firebras, whose name had something mysterious and extraordinary about it that piqued ihis curiosity. And with tliis intention he retired to rest. " After all," said Peter, as he laitl his head on his pillow, "I chouldu't wonder if that young man turned out a poacher. Now I think of it, he certainly looks like one. Nobody but a poacher wo; I Id prefer his own hair to a wig." Sallying forth betimes the next day, he repaired to the Rose and Crown, which was but a short distance from his own dwelling, and inquired of the ])otboy at the door whether a gentleman of the name of Cordwell Firebras lodged there. The potboy could give hiui no answer, but, aj)}ilying to the chamberlain, he was told that Mr. Firebras frequented the house, but did not lodge there. '' He generally comes in the evening," said the man ; "and if you have any message to leave for him I will deliver it." " What sort of a man is he?" inquired the barber. Before the chamberlain could reply, the landlord made his appearance, and on being informed of the barber's inqiury, asked him what he wanted with Mr. Cordwell Firebras. " A gentleman who has a letter for him called at my shop last night," faid Peter, '•' and wished me to inquire whether he was -still here, — that's all." " Pray step this wa}', sir," rejoined the landlord, ushering Peter into an inner room. Here the landlord took up a chair, and, knocking it three •times on the floor, without offering it to his guest, sat down. Not exactly knowing what to make of this singular recej)tion, Peter took up a chair, knocked it in like manner, and sat down opposite the landlord. The landlord then tapped his nose, and Peter, not to be behindhand, imitated the gesture. " All's right," said the landlord. *' AlTs right," echoed Peter. " Where did you leave them ?" asked the landlord. " Leave whom ?" asked Peter, in surprise. The landlord's countenance altered, and he looked very bard at bin).. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 49 "What wif mode of paying mortgage money, and so large a sum, too. Are you sure it was as much as fourteen thousand pounds?" " As that I have a comb in my hand," replied the barber, *' And it was paid in gold, too ; I heard the chink of the metal myself. Besides, Sir Bulkeley called upon me, together with the other spectators, to witness the payment."' '•\ou surprise me," exclaimed the stranger: '' I must have a Word with Mr. Scarve on the subject. — Good morning, gentle- 5S THE MISERS DAUGHTER. men. Mr. Randulph Crew, wc may possibly meet again." And raising his hat he walked across the street, and knocked at the miser's door. " Who is that strange person," asked Triissell of Peter. " Haven't the least idea, sir," replied the barber. " He came in here to be shaved ; that's all I know of him. Never ask custotncrs' names." Randulph, meanwhile, ran to the door, to see how the stranger Monld be received, and was somewhat chagrined to find that Jacob, after reconnoitring him according to cnstom, and detain- ing him while he consnlted his master, admitted him. " He will see Hilda," sighed the young man. " Come, nephew, come !" cried Trussell, impatiently. " We shall be late." Sorely against his will, Randulph suffered himself to be dragged away, and they proceeded along King-street, in the direction of Spring Gardens. CHAPTER X. THE beau's levee — THE BREAKFAST — THE EMBAEKATIOX FOR THE FOLLY. Beau Villiers' residence looked npon Saint James's Park, and had a small garden attached to it. It was by no means a large honse, but exquisitely furnished; the wdiolc of the internal deco- rations being French, and in the gorgeous taste of Louis the Fourteenth. The visitors were admitted by a couple of powdered lacqueys in rich liveries of scarlet faced with white, and passing a large, snow-white French poodle of a peculiar breed, lying on a rug near the door, traversed a hall crowded with busts, statues, bronzes, and large porcelain jars. A page, in a fanciful costume, who might have played a part in one of Watteau's pictures, met them at the foot of tlie stairs, and, mounting before them, ushered them along a corridor to the entrance of a chamber, before which stood two grinning Africans, arrayed in Oriental habiliments, and wearino; great brass ear-rings, and large muslin turbans adorned with brazen crescents. One of them threw open the door, and the two visitors entered a waiting-room, in v/hich a number of persons were assembled, most of whom being known to Trussell, he very courteously returned their salutations. "Ah, 7)10)1 a))ii, Desmartins," he said, to a little bowing and cringing personage, very ill-dressed (as tailors are apt to be), from whose pocket depended a measuring-tape, while he carried a pattern-book under his arm, "how are you? This is my nephew, Desmartins. I have told him he must put himself under your skilful hands." '•Proud to undertake him, Mr. Trussell, — encha?ite !^' replied THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. oJ) the Frenchman. "Your nephew has a very fine figure, ma foit But his dress is not at all a-la-mode. Very clownish — what you call it? — coiuitrified — ha! ha!" "So I told him, Desmartins," replied Trussell. "We shall look in upon you to-day or to-morrow, and put that to rights." " Enchanted to see you, Mr. Trussell, and you, sare," replied the tailor, bowing to Randidph. "Ah, Mr. Penrose, is that you?" pursued Trussell, turning ta a slight, effeminate-looking young man, with a paper box and a casket under his arm. " I suppose you have got a new importa- tion of gloves and perfumes — tuberose, orange, jasmine, essence d'Espagne — eh ?" "I have just invented a new scent, sir," replied the perfumer, *'and am come to solicit 3Ir. Villiers' permission to give it his name." "And if he grants it, yoiu' fortune is made," replied Trussell; " the bouquet a-la- Villiers will carry all before it. Ah, Chip- chase," turning to a little fellow, whose stunted figui'e, velvet cap, boots, and other equipments, left no doubt as to his being a jockey, " what news from Newmarket ? Has liord Havershain won the cup, or Sir John Faa-g ?"' " Neither, sir," replied the jockey. " Mr. Villiers is the u'inner." "Bravo! bravissimo !" cried Trussell, clapping his hands; " that's fimous ! Why, your news is worth twenty pounds to me, Chipchase. I backed Mr. Villiers against the field, though — I may now say it — without a notion he would win, but merely out of compliment." "The knowin' 'uns has been taken in this time, that's certain, Mr. Trussell," replied the jockey, with a sly wink. " Sir Johr. thought himself safe, but he now finds '-^-'s on the wrong side of the hedge. I hope your honour will u.iOW me the pleasure of drinking your health." "That I will," returned Trussell, taking out his purse, and giving him a piece of money; "and in a crown bowl of punch,. too.^ Ah, Ned Oglethorpe," he added, passing on to another ]ierson in a, white flannel jacket, and with an open collar; " how are the rackets? My nephew Randulph, Ned. We will come and play a match at tennis with you one of these days. Let me know when the next main is fought at the cockpit. — Captain Culpepper, your most obedient. Nay, don't walk away. Captain ; I'm not going to dun you for the few crowns you lost to me at tricktrack, at the British. Bandulph, this is Captain Culpepper, as brave a man as ever drew a sword, or brought off his friend from a street row, or," he added, in a lower tone, "ever revenged a secret quarrel. Egad, at Mr. Villiers' levees one is bare to meet all one's friends. Here, nephew," he added, ad- dressing a lithe, active-looking man, in a close-fitting linen dress. 60 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. ■with a couple of foils under his arm, "here is the first master of fence in the world — Mr. Hewitt. You must have a few lessons in carte and tierce from him." Whilst llandul[)h was returnino; the fencing- master's bow, the <\ooY of the inner room was opened by Mr. Cripps. On dis- certiing; Trussell and his companion, the valet immediately hastened towards them, and entreated them to step in to his master, who, he affirmed, had been expecting them for some time. The apartment into which they were ushered was the bean's dressing-chamber, — that part of it, however, devoted to the toilette-table and its appliances being separated from the rest Ijy a magnificent Indian japanned screen. It was furnished with the most refined and luxurious taste. Ilosc-colourcd curtains drawn across the windows subdued the light, and threw a warm tint on all around, while the air was loaded with delicious per- fumes. A very diminutive monkc}', clothed in a scarlet coat, and wearing a bag-wig and a little sword, ])layed its diverting tricks in one corner, while a gaudily ])luinagcd macaw screamed in the opposite angle. Choice flowers in pots added their fragrance to the artificial odours, and a couple of exquisite little spaniels of Charles the Second's breed, with the longest and silkliest ears imaginable, and large, gazelle-like e3'es, occupied a cushion on the hearth. At a table, covered with the whitest and finest linen, and glittering with silver of the rarest work- manship, together with a superb service of china, sat, or rather reclined, in the easiestof easy chairs, Beau Villiers. He did not rise on the appearance of his guests; but moving slightl}', and graciously, to them, though with somewhat, Randulph fancied, of a patronizing air, motioned Mr. Cripps to set them chairs. He was quite in dishabille ; his graceful figure being enveloped in a loose dressing-robe of the richest brocade, while the place of a peruke was supplied by a green silk cap, very becomingly put on. His shirt was o{)en at the throat, and decorated with a pro- fusion of lace at the bosom and wrists. Pink silk hose and velvet slippers completed his costume. There were two other persons present; Sir Singleton Spinke, and a ver^' portly gentleman with puffed-out, inflamed cheeks, who was introduced as Sir Bulkelcy Price, and whom Randulph concluded must be the hero of the story he had just heard related by the barber — a circumstance which gave him a peculiar interest in his eyes. Meanwhile, Mr. Cripps, who, together with the page, officiated at breakfast, proceeded to do the honours, and twirhng the mill of a richly- chased silver chocolate-pot, poured out two well frothed cups of the unctuous beverage, and handed them to the new comers. A small modicum of a Strasbourg pate, washed down by a cup of green tea and a gla.-s of claret, constituted the beau's break- fest. Sir Singleton Spinke took chocolate, picked the wing of a THE MISERS DAUGHTER, 6T> chlcl notwithstanding the preliminary breakfast of the latter. Just before the introduction of the usquebaugh, Sir Bulkcle}', after looking round and coughing significantly, said, in a low tone, ta the chief valet, " I suppose, Mr. Cripps, there is no ale in the house ?" "No what! Sir Bidkeley ?" rejoined Mr. Cripps, staring as if he could not possibly imagine he had heard aright. "Ale, rascal— ale !" replied the knight, emphaticallj', and ratl'.er angrily. " No, Sir Bulkeley," replied Mr. Cripps, bowing; " there is na ale, but there is toasted cheese, if that will serve your turn." Angry as he was, the knight could not help laughing at the valet's impertinence ; and a glass of usquebaugh, in which he pledged the old beau, entirely appeased him. The conversation daring the meal was lively enough, and was chiefl}^ maintained by the beau and Trussell, their discourse running upon all sorts of fashionable topics, scandal, women, play, and public amuse- ments ; in which, as he knew so little about the matters discussed^ llandulph took no great interest. His attention, however, was instantly aroused, when Trussell, turning laughingly to Sir Bulkeley, told him he had heard of his " new way of paying old debts." " I mentioned the matter to Villiers before your arrival," re- turned Sir Bulkeley; " and it diverted him as much as it appears to divert you. Egad ! we had to ride hard though. Several of my tradesmen met me at Highgate, and offered to escort mo through the town, but I declined the attention, being of opinion that we were a sufficiently'^ large party without them. You should have seen how the folks stared as we rode along the streets," "I don't wonder at it," replied Trussell, laughing: "lanv alttiost surprised the train-bands were not sent after you."' " The cream of the adventure was, as usual, the close," pursued the knight. *' Never was fury equal to that displayed by the miser at his disappointment, I declare I almost pitied him. His dautjhter is a charmino- sirl — beautiful as an an";el, and rich — nay, i'taith, it is impossible to say how rich she must be Villiers, you ought to take her off her father's hands," "I'll think of it," replied the beau, carelessly; "for I am desperately in want of money. Like yourself, I have had some dealings with old Scarve, and know him to be as great an extor- tioner as Shylock or Sir Giles Overreach. I don't think, how- ever, I could marry his daughter, if she had the wealth- of the' Indicc;' 62 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " But you have never seen her, or you would aher your opinion," replied Sir Bulkeley. " She is the most beautiful creature I have beheld for this many a day." "You pique my curiosity," rejoined the beau. " I must see this paragon of perfection. A projios of beaut}'," he added lo Randulph, who could scarcely hide his xineasiness; "don't you think Clementina Brabazon a fine girl, Mr. Crew?' " Remarkably so," replied the young man, distractedlv. " She is nothing to what her mother was," observed Sir Sin- gleton. "Twenty years ago. Lady Brabazon, then Miss Norbrokc, was, with one exception, the loveliest creature in existence." " And wlio might be the exception?"' inquired Trusseli. " I am glad you have asked me," re])lied Sir Singleton ; *' because it is a gratification to me to tell you it was your sister Sophia, — the mother of this young gentleman. Delicious crea- ture, that she was ! She quite won my heart, Mr. Crew ; and if she had not been insensible to my suit, 1 might have had the honour of being your father." " The supposition is highly flattering," replied Randulph, smiling. '^ It makes one melancholy to think of the beauties of by-gone days," continued the old beau, sentimentally, consoling himself at the same time with a pinch of snuff. " Not having seen the miser's daughter, I cannot speak to her attractions: but Sir Bulkeley is a good judge, and his opinion may be relied on. To my taste, the ])rettiest woman of her day is Kitty Conway, the actress at the little theatre in the Ilaymarket." " Kitty is certainly a vastly pretty creature," rejoined Trusseli; " but you need scarcely sigh in vain there, Sir Singleton." And thus they rattled on, till the beau, rising, said — "Mr. Cripps, tell Antoine I shall now make my toilette. How shall we spend the morning, gentlemen ? At the cock-pit, the Groom Porter's, the Cocoa-tree, or White's?" " If 3'ou desire something new, sir," observed Mr. (h'ipps, who lingered for a moment, " there is a ^rand musical entertainment this morning at the Folly on the Thames. I think you would be much diverted by going thither, 'pon rep!" "A good suggestion!" cried the bean. "I have often rowed past the Foil}', but never have been inside it." " Then don't neglect the present opportunity," said Sir Sin- gleton. " It used to be a pleasant place, when we wore youno: fellows, Trusseli. Many a fine woman we have seen there, eh?" " Many a one — many a one — Sir Singleton," replied the other ; *' and made love to them too. I shall be glad to see the place again." "The Folly be it, then!" cried the bean; "and some folks would say it was a proper place for us. Excuse me for a few moments^ gentlemen. 1 will dress as rapidly as possible." So THE MISER'S DAUGIITEPt. C3 fnyinp-, he rrtircd behind the screen, which was drawn still fur-dier across the room. Not feeUng much interest in the con- versation whicli ensued after the beau's withdrawal, Kanchilph arose to k^ok at some exqnisite miniatures and other articles of vertii scattered about the room, and was cngaLied in cxamininL;; a magnificent snuff-box. when Mr. Cripps, who had returned h'om attending his master, came up to him, and said in a low tone, " I am charged with a letter for you, sir. Here it is." Randulph was prevented from making any remark by the sig- nificant looks of the valet, who, giving him to understand by sundry winks and slight gestures, that liis uncle was to know nothing of the matter, glided away. Glancing at the group near the table, tlic 3'onng man perceived that Trussell's back was towards him, and that he was, moreover, occupied in recounting some jest to the others. He therefore moved nearer the window, broke the seal of the note, and read as follows : — ■ " Young Man, — The letter committed to your charge by yoin- mother, and which was of the last importance, though you appear to have attached so little to it, has fortunately reached its destination. Otherwise, the consequences might have been serious. It is necessary I should have an interview with you, and that without delay. I shall be in the souih ambulatory of the cloisters of Westminster Abbey at six o'clock to-morrow, and shall expect you. Fail not in the appointment, as you regard your own satiety and that of your mother. Not a word of this to your uncle, or to any one. The slightest imprudence will place you in jeopardy. " Cordwell, Firebras." *' Cordwell Firebras !" exclaimed Randulph, to himself. " Ay, now I remember, that was the name of the person to whom the missing letter was addressed. The whole affair is most mys- terious; and the language of this note strange, and even alarming. I'll question Mr. Cripps about it. But hold ! I am desired not to mention the matter to my uncles, or to any one. Why should I observe the caution ? And yet prudence tells me I had better do so. The note is dated yesterday. A few hours, therefore, will solve the riddle. I toill keep the appointment." A4. he uttered the last words, almost unconsciously, aloud, and with some emphasis, he was startled by hearing a loud laugh behind him, and, turning at the sound, perceived Trussell's round face peeping over his shoulder. He instantly crushed the letter between his fingers. '•' Na3', you had better let me see it," laughed Trussell; "I overheard 3'our exclamation. What fair dame has ffdlen in love with you, eh? Not the miser's daughter, surely? And vet she is almost the only woman you can have seen. But I \Vont ask impertinent questions, or make impertinent remarks. I see they annoy you. You are right to keep the secret, as well as the appointment. Ha ! ha !" 64 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " You arc mistaken, uncle !" cried Randulph, hastily; "my appointment is with ," and checked himself. " Poll, poll ! boy, no excuses with me," interrupted Trussell. '^ Keep your own counsel. Fortunate doir ! I was as hickv myself when I was as young. Ha! ha! But," he added, with a look of souie perplexity, "what Mercury brought you the billet?" " I did, sir," interposed Mr. Cripps, who, having observed what was going forward, flew to the rescue. " I was intrusted with it — by a lady, ahem ' Yournephcw makes his way rapidly, Mr. Trussell, 'pon rep !" "So it appears," rejoined Trussell, laughing louder than ever. " Myself over again — ha ! ha ! ' llandidph was about to contradict the valet's assertion, and set his imcle right as far as he was able, but at this moment the screen was drawn aside, and discovered the beau fully dressed. He was habited in a coat of the finest scarlet cloth, richly em- broidered with gold lace, a white waistcoat of the richest silk, flowered with gold in a large pattern, a point lace cravat, and a full-flowing flaxen periwig. On seeing his master, Mr. Cripps hastened to fetch his feathered hat and clouded cane, while the page brought him his gloves. Antoine, the French servant who had assisted him to dress, then advanced with his handkerchief, which was of the finest cambric, edged with lace, and on which he poured a perfume from a scent bottle; while a i'ourlh attendant handed him his snufi'-box. "And now, gentlemen, I ani at your service," said ihe beau, carefully adjusting his hat. " Mr. Cripps, you will attend us. We may need you at the Folly." The favourite valet bowed, and opened the door of the ante- chamber. Mr. Villiers paused for a moment to exchange a few- words with the assemblage, — applauding the jockey Ibr his success, — announcing to the pertumcr that he had just tried his scent, and would accord him permission to put his name to it, — commanding a court suit from the tailor, — and nodding to Ned Oglethorpe, Captain Culpepper, and the fencing-master. He then passed forth with his friends. The party first took a turn on the Mall. The morning being extremely fine, the walks were filled with a gay throng, as on the preceding day. Wherever they went. Beau Villiers drew all eyes upon him, and to Randulph's amusement, and Trussell's delight, they were followed by a crowd of curious gazers. Among these, Randulph noticed the stranger whom he had met at the barber's shop ; but the latter did not seem to court his observation, and he soon afterwards lost sight of him. Having sauntered as far as Buckingham House, the party retraced their steps, and quitting the park, repaired to the cock- pit at Whitehall. Here Sir Bulkeley Trice quitted them, havin-; THE MISER'S DAUGHTEH. Gj first engaged Randulph and his nncle to dine with him at his house in Saint James's Square on the following da3^ A quarter of" an hour was next whiled away at the Cockpit, after which they proceeded to the Groom-porter's, whose rooms closely adjoined it, where even at that hour they found high play going forward. Beau Villiers, who was a desperate gamester, and seldom liked to miss an opportunity, approached the table where they were playing hazard, and in a short space of time came off the winner of a hundred pounds. Elated with his success, and in high good humour, he left the rooms, and repaired with his companions to ^\hiLchall Stairs, where Mr. Cripps called a boat, in which they all embarked for the Folly. Randulph had detected the stranger among the crowd of [ookers-on at the Groom -porter's, and their boat had not got man}' yards from shore, when he observed him descend the stairs, and get into another wherry, with the intention, as it appeared from his gestures, of following them. CHAPTER XL THE miser's consultation WITH HIS ATTORNEY — JACOB ALARMED BY HIS master's APPEARANCE AT NIGHT — THE VISIT OF CORDWELL FIEEBRAS. By the combined attentions of his daughter and sister-in-law, the miser, after a little while, was restored to sensibility, and placed in his chair, where the glass of wine he had destined for Jacob being adaiinistered to him, mixed with hot water, completed his recovery. Still, he was very weak ; his gaze wandered from the heap of treasure on the floor to the mortgage deed on the table, and unable to bear the sight of the latter, he ordered Jacob to jilace the little strong box in which he usually kept his papers on the table, and unlocking it with a trembling hand, deposited the deed within it. This seemed to be a great relief to him, for he presently became more composed, and rising, with his daughter's assistance, stepped towards the pile of money-bags, and tried, but ineffectually, to lift one of them. " Do not attempt it, father," said Hilda. " You had better let Jacob carry this money into your own room ; and let me also recommend you to retire to rest." " No, no," replied the miser ; " I shall not sleep till I have counted the gold in each of those sacks ; and if I find any deficiencv, let Sir Bulkeley look to it. Take them up stairs, Jacob." " The injunction was promptly obeyed, and Jacob had just com- l^leted his task, when a knock was heard at the door. F 66 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " Who can it be ?" cried the miser. " Ah I now I recollect, it must be my attorney, Mr. Diggs. He was to call about the foreclosure. Curses on it I instead of being present at my triumph, ho will witness my mortification. Jacob, if it should be Mr. ])iggs, you may admit him, but no one else. Hilda, and sister Clinton, you had better retire to your own room. I have business to transact. You may as well say good night, for I shall go to bed as soon as Mr. Diggs leaves." Hilda looked anxiously at her father, and kissed his brow. " Have you anything to say, child ?" he asked, touched by her affection. " Only that I wish you would not count the money to-night," she replied. " You need rest." " I shall sleep all the sounder for having counted it," he replied ; " especially," he added, with great asperity, " if I find there is any mistake." '' Well, I hope you will be better to-morrow," sighed Hilda, and she withdrew with her aunt. The next moment Jacob ushered into the room a respectable- looking middle-aged man, with smooth, rosy features, somewhat disfigured in their expression by what is termed a cocked eye. Indeed, no power of vision seemed to reside in the orb thus unnaturally fixed. This blemish excepted, Mr. Diggs — for he it was — might be said to have a prepossessing countenance, except that there were some lines of treachery about the mouth, and that the chin was very cunningly formed. He was plainly but handsomely attired in a dark suit, and had neither the air nor the manner of a pettifogging attornc}', which, indeed, he was not. His voice was so agreeably modulated, that it fell almost like notes of music on the ear ; and he had a very pleasing and very plausible address. " Well, sir, am I to congratulate you ?" he said, as he took the cliair offered him by Jacob. " Do 1 pay my respects to a Welsh squire ? Ha ! ha !" But perceiving from the other's countenance that something was wrong, he changed his tone, and added — " I hope you are well, sir? From what I heard from your nephew, who lias just left me, I expected to find you in high spirits." The miser made no reply, but signed to Jacob to leave the room, which the latter did very reluctantly. " The mortgage money has been paid, Diggs," said Mr. Scarve, coldly, as soon as they were alone. " 1 am sorry to hear it," replied the other — "very sorry. But I feared as much from your countenance." " Well, never mind it," replied the miser, forcing a smile. " It is a disappointment that can be borne." "I am glad you take the matter so philosophically, sir," rejoined Diggs : " but I confess I cannot view the loss with equal indifference." THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 67 " Why, what interest, except professionally, can you feel ia the matter ?" said the miser, coldly. " I take as much interest in the affairs of my clients as in my own," rejoined Disgs; " and it so happens 3'ou are not the only party who may suffer by this untoward and vexatious occurrence." " Not the only party,'' repeated the miser. " You perplex me." "I will explain myself, sir," returned Diggs. " Your nephew, as I told you, has just been with me. He spoke of his hopes of an union with your daughter, and of the settlement he proposed, in such an event, to make upon her; and concluded by hoping you would assign this very estate in -Flintshire to her as a marriage portion." " But I have it not, Diggs — I have it not !" cried the miser, pathetically. *' So I am sorry to learn," replied Diggs, " but — " and he slightly paused, as if calculating how far he could safely go — " you have the mortgage money." " Mr. Diggs," replied the miser, fixing his keen grey e3'es upon the attorney — " I told my nephew to-day that I would not give my daughter a farthing, and I am not one, you know, to waver in my resolution. What settlement does Philip propose to make- apon her ?" " Nothing, sir," replied Diggs, affecting to be a little hurt — "nothing, without a corresponding settlement on your part.,. Nor could I honestly advise him to do otherwise." " Then the match is at an end," rejoined Scarve ; " and you may tell him so." " I hope not, sir," replied the attorney ; " you arc both good clients, and having the interests of both sincerely at heart, I should like to see 3^ou more closely united. Your nephew would be a son to you, Mr. Scarve. He has a great regard as well as profound respect for you ; and having precisely the same careful habits as yourself, your property will undergo no diminution, if it should ever come into iiis hands. I need not remind you of the large fortune he inherited from his flither, whose will you have seen, but I may tell you — because I have no interdiction from him against so doing — that by the fortunate disposition of that money,, bj' loans and otherwise, he has already added twenty thousand poimds to the amount ; and in a few years, if he is equally fortunate, there is no doubt he will double it." " Philip is a very clever young man, unquestionably," said the- miser, his eyes sparkling with pleasure — " there are few such." " You may truly say so, sir," replied Diggs ; " and I should hesitate, if I were you, before I threw away the opportunity now offered of so good a match — one in all respects so accordant with your taste. You will at once perceive my meaning, sir, when I say that you would scarcely respect your nephew — certainly not F 2 68 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. give him credit for the prudence he possesses — if he were to accept your daughter without some marriage portion. It is not that he wants the money, nor that he doubts your uhimate inten- tions respecting her, but he deems it right, as a matter of propriety and fairness, that a sum equal to his own should be given." " And what amount does he propose to settle ?" inquired the miser. " Twenty thousand pounds,** replied Diggs. " Hum !" exclaimed Scarvc. And he continued for some time wrapped in thought, during which Diggs kept his single eye fixed upon him. " Well," he said, at length; "all things considered, I am disposed to stretch a point, and to do more than I intended. I will behave handsomely to my nephew, who deserves to be so dealt with. He shall settle thirty thousand pounds — mind, thirty thousand, Diggs! — on my daughter; and I will give them fourteen thousand — the very sum I have just received from that accursed Welsh baronet— on the day of the nuptials." " I cannot, of course, take upon me to answer for Mr. Frewin, sir," replied Diggs, who could scarcely conceal his satisfaction, "but I hope and trust he will agree to the arrangement — indeed, I am pretty sure he will do so. He is devotedly attached to Your daughter, and I am convinced he would n)ake a sacrifice ■for her." " He makes no sacrifice, sir," cried Scarve,. sharplj' — " none whatever." " I mean merely in feeling, sir," interrupted Diggs, in a depre- catory tone; " but since we have in a measure agreed upon the imattcr — for I will presume Mr. Frewin's assent — I may add, it is his earnest wish that the marriage should take place as soon as ^possible." " I myself am wishful it should do so,** replied the miser. '•' In tliat case, there can be nothing to hinder it," rejoined Diggs, " always provided Mr. Frewin agrees to the arrangement, unless — but I presume you have consulted Miss Scarve on the •subject?'* " My daughter has been accustomed to act in accordance with my wishes," returned the miser, coldly. " I am glad to hear it, sir," said Diggs. " I merely threw out the suggestion, fearing an obstacle might occur in that quarter. My apprehension was, lest the young lady should not share iu our good opinion of Mr. Frewin ; inasmuch as she might attach a little more importance than we do to external appearances, for- getting the more essential qualities. I am quite of opinion that £L father has a right to dispose of his daughter as he thinks fit. All laws, divine and human, give him that power, and he is per- fectly justified in exercising it.'* THE MISER'S DAUOnTER. CO " I act as I believe fi)r the best," replied the miser. " And now," he added, as if anxious to change the subject, " let us talk on other matters. There is the bond from Mr. VilHers; the annuity from Sir Thomas Lightfoot; and the four thousand pounds Lady Brabazon wants' to borrow." And he forthvvith plunged into details, into which it is unnecessary to follow him. At the end of half an hour, DIggs rose to depart, and Jacob was summoned to attend him to the door. There was a signifi- cance in the porter's manner that satisfied the astute attorney he had been playing the eaves-dropper. He thought it therefore expedient to make friends with him, and he accordingly slipped a crown into his hand as he went forth. Jacob did not refuse the gift, but growled out, as he fastened the door, " This, and a thousand such sha'n't bribe me to betray my young missis. I overheard nil their scheming, and she shall know it as well." On returning to the parlour, he found the miser preparing to retire, and assisted him, for he was still very feeble, to get up stairs. 'Ihe miser's bedroom was not a whit better furnished than the lower apartment. An old bedstead, without hangings, stood at one side, while opposite it v.-tis a washstand, of the com- monest description. A number of old trunks, and one or two pictures, in a very dusty condition, were reared against the walls. The window was partly boarded up, partly grated. There was a small closet at the further end of the room, and a side door, though now fastened up, communicated with the chamber occu- pied by the two ladies. A small table, a stool, two large and stout oaken chests, clamped with iron, and a bureau of the same material as the chests, constituted the furniture of the closet. On the floor were laid the bags of gold. Having glanced at the heap, and counted it with his eye, the miser dismissed Jacob for the night, with the strictest injunctions to keep on the watch, for fear of any attempt to break into the house. And the better to enable him to protect the premises, he gave him a pistol — one of a brace, which he always kept loaded at his bedside. As soon as Jacob was gone, and he had locked the door, he set down the candle on the floor, and, with trembling eagerness, unfastened on£^,()f the sacks, and counted its glittering contents. The sum was right. He undid another, and found it correct ; another, and another, and the same result, until all were emptied, and the flioor was covered with gold. The miser gazed at the shining treasure, vainh' trying to satiate his greedy soul with the sight; and then, at last, as if unable to contain himself, he threw him- self upon the heap, in a species of delirium — clutching handfuls of the coin, and throwing them over him. His transports having subsided, he arose, again filled the sacks, tied them up, placed them in one of the chests, locked it, and in a state of high nervous excitement that forbade any hope of sleep, sought his couch. 70 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. Jacob, meanwhile, on quitting his niaster, crept stealthily to the ladies' chamber, and tapped against the door. The summons was immediately answered" by Hilda, who anxiously inquired what was the iiiatter. Jacob replied, in a low tone, that he wished to say a word to her before she retired to rest. Having delivered himself thus, he stole down stairs, and Hilda, who was a good deal alarmed, almost instantly followed him. He then told her what had passed between Mr. Scarve and his attorney, concluding thus: — " I ought to be ashamed of myself, I know, miss, for listenin', and it's not my habit, I assure you; but being aware that Mr. ]3iggs is Mr. Philip's attorney, as well as master's, and couplin' his visit with what occurred this morning, I had some misgivings as to his errand, and therefore I did as I've told you." Greatly disturbed by the intelligence, Hilda thanked the porter for his zeal, and returned noiselessly tc her room, where she found relief in a plentiful flood of tears. Mrs. Clinton tried to soothe her, but it was long before she could succeed in doing so. " What is to be done, dear aunt r" cried Hilda; " I know my father too well to doubt that, having resolved upon this hateful match, he will leave nothing undone to accomplish it. But I will die sooner than give my consent." "I scarcely know how to advise you, my dear niece," replied Mrs. Clinton. " I do not like to counsel you to disobey your father, and yet I feel he ought not to force your inclinations." " Alas!" exclaimed Hilda, again bursting into tears, "I have no friend to turn to." " Yes, you have one," replied Mrs. Clinton, " who will, I am sure, assist you, and protect you, if necessary. But do not ques- tion me further on the subject to-night — rest satisfied with my assurance. And now, sweet niece, dry your tears, lay your head on the pillow, and try to compose yourself to slumber. Perhaps all will be right, and there may be no occasion to apply to any one. God bless you ! good night !" Hilda complied with her aunt's suggestions — but sleep shunned her eyelids. Jacob, who was really apprehensive that an attempt would be made to break into the house that night, determined to remain on the watch, and with this view ensconced himself in the misers armchair, where, however, he found it impossible to resist the approaches of the drowsy god. His slumbers were long and sound, but were at length broken by the creaking of a door. Instantly starting to his feet, he snatched up the pistol which lay on the table beside him, and presented it at the head of the intruder, who proved to be his master. Mr. Scarve was in his nightdress, over which he had hastily slipped the robe he ordi- narily wore, and thus seen in the bright moonlight, for he had no candle, looked almost like an apparition. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. .7I " Lord bless us !" exclaimed Jacob, lowering the pistol ; " how you do frighten one I I took you for a housebreaker, and I'm not <]uite sure now you aren't a perturbed sperrit." " I almost wish I was dead, Jacob," replied the miser, dolefully. **I cannot sleep." " Don't wonder at it," replied the other, gruffly. " You've a bad conscience. I can sleep soundly enough, even in that cheer." " I envy you, Jacob," groaned the miser. " And well you may," rejoined Jacob, "riches don't always bring peace, — especially if they've been unjustly obtained. But I'll tell you what'll make you sleep as sound as a rock. Give ■up all idea of marryin' your daughter to your miserly nephew, Philip Frewin. It's that as disturbs you. You know you're doin' wrong in harbourin' such a thought." " They're all leagued against me, — all !" shrieked the miser. *' Scoundrel, you have been listening to what passed between me and Mr. Diggs." " I wont deny it," replied Jacob, stoutly ; " I have. And I tell you you're sacrificin' your daughter. Your nephew isn't what he seems, and Mr. Diggs is helpin' him to deceive you. You'll fine* 'em out when it's too late." " You are mad, or drunk, or both, Jacob !" cried Scarve, fiercely. " If I am mad, it's a very composed and collected kind of mad- ness," rejoined Jacob; "but I should like to know which of us looks most like a madman; you, who can't rest in your bed, or me, who can sleep like a top in that cheei- ?" " Well, well, I sha'n't bandy words with you," rejoined the miser, whose teeth were chattering with cold. "Is all safe?" " I suppose so," answered Jacob. " I've heard nothing. Have you.?" " I thought I did," replied the miser, "•' but it might be your snoring." " Well, go to bed," returned Jacob; " it's the best place for you. You'll catch your death o' cold standin' there. If it'll be any comfort to you I wont go to sleep again. I suppose it can't be far off midnight." " It has just gone two," rejoined the miser ; '•' I've heard the Abbey clock strike all the hours." And, refusing Jacob's offer of assistance, he groped his way to bed. " I wouldn't be him for all his wealth," thought the porter, as he listened to his retreating footsteps. Jacob was as good as his word. He kept watch till it was broad daj'light, and then, thinking all secure, betook himself to bed for a couple of hours. The family assembled at breakfast as usual. The miser looked unusually haggard, and Hilda's countenance betrayed the mental suffering she had undergone. Little was said during the scanty 72 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. meal; and as soon as it was over, Mr. Scarve signified that he wished to have some private conversation with his daughter, upon which they were left alone together. He then, without any cir- cutnlocution, and in a much more y)ercmptory manner than he had adopted before, told her he intended to give her to her cousin, and that he would listen to no further objections on her part. " I cannot believe you will persist in this cruel resolution, sir," cried Hilda. " What have I done to deserve such treatment ? But do not think you will succeed in your design. I repeat what I said yesterday. Neither entreaties nor threats shall induce me to marry my cousin." " I will discard you, then," rejoined the miser, furiously. But finding her wholly unmoved by the menace, he com- menced pouring forth a torrent of invectives against the sex ir> general; complaining of the anxiety and torment they occasioned all those with whom they were connected, whether in the rela- tion of wife, sister, or daughter; charging them with wilfulness, perversity, and blindness to their own interests ; and ended by ordering her off to her own chamber, whither she was very glad to retreat. By no means satisfied with himself, he next tried to occupy his mind by referring to his account-book; but it would not do, and, unable to sit still, he paced the room to and fro. He hoped Jacob would show himself!, that he might have an object to vent his anger upon ; but the porter, having some notion of the storm that awaited him, kept sedulously out of the way. He ther> resolutely returned to the accoufit-book, and had at last fully succeeded in fixing his attention upon it, when a knock was heard at the door, and Jacob presently afterwards appeared, and informed him that Mr. Cordwell Firebras was without. The miser slightly started at the name, but hastily ordered Jacob to admit him. A friendly greeting took place between the miser and Firebras, at which Jacob was the more surprised, in that he did not remember having seen the latter before ; but he thought, in spite of all his affected cordiality, that his master would have willingly dispensed with his visitor's company. Warned by what had occurred on the previous night, Mr. Scarve ordered Jacob to go below, and took the precaution to see that his injunctions were obeyed. Though the porter's curiosity was considerably excited by what was going forward, he did not dare to listen, for fear of a discover}', and he accord- ingly whiled the time by applying to his secret store of provi- sions. In about an hour and a half, he was summoned by his master, who told him he was going out on business, and desired him to attend him to his room, whither he proceeded " I suppose you want your coat, sir ?" said Jacob. And open- ing a drawer in the chest, he took an old, sad-coloured garment from a faded handkerchief in which it was wrapped, and assisted THE miser's daughter. 75 his master to put it on. This done, lie broniz;l)t an old three- cornered hat, edged with tarnished lace, and dusting it, gave it to the miser, together with a crutch-handled stick. Having locked the door of the closet, removed the key, and put it in his pocket, Mr. Scarve next went through the same operation at the door communicating with the gallery. "I shall not return till eveninsr, Jacob," he said. " Take care of the house during my absence." " It must be important business to keep you out so long," re- plied Jacob, staring at the information. " The business is important," rejoined the miser; "but I wish you would check your tendency to familiarity. It is growino^ upon you, and I am weary of it."' With this he descended to the lower room, and, taking some papers from Cordwell Firebras, which the latter had been read- ing, put them in his pocket, and they quitted the house together. CHAPTER XII. Hilda's interview with abel beechcroft. Jacob lost not a moment in communicating his master's departure to his young mistrcs?, and Hilda, on hearing it, immediately came down stairs with her aunt. "And now, my dear niece," said Mrs. Clinton, "since such a favourable opportunity presents itself, I would advise you to apply for counsel as to how to act to the person I told you would belriend you. This letter, committed to my care by my poor sister, and your mother, was written to be delivered in case of an. emergency like the present — which she but too surely foresaw might arise — and it cannot fail of accomplishing its object." " It is addressed to Mr. Abel Beechcroft," said Hilda, glancing at the inscription on the letter as she took it from her aunL "Why, that must be the uncle of the young man who was hercj the niiiht before last. I cannot take it to him.'''' ""VVhy not?" cried Mrs. Clinton. " Because it would look like — but wdiy need I care what con- struction is put upon my visit, since my heart acquits me of anv improper motive ?" said Hilda. " Aunt, I will go — that is, if you think it will answer any good purpose." " I am sure it will," urged Mrs. Clinton. • " But if my father should accidentally return during our absence?" rejoined Hilda. " I do not think it likely he will do so," returned the aunt ; " but if he should, I must bear the brunt of his displeasure. Go, my love. Something tells me the visit will be productive of gicafi advantage to you. Jacob will accompany you." 74 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " That I will," he replied ; " I'll follow you to the world's end, if you wish it." Hilda yielded at length to her aunt's entreaties, and having put on her walking attire, quitted the house with Jac^b. Instead of going over Westminster Bridge the}' proceeded to Parliament Stairs, where Jacob said he had a friend a waterman, who would lend him a boat, in which they could cross the river. Nor did he assert more than the truth. On reaching the stairs, the first person he encountered was the friendly waterman in question, who, on learning his wishes, immediately ran down and got his skiff ready. Having placed Hilda within it, Jacob took off his coat, and plying the oars with as much skill as the best rower on the Tliames could have done, speedily landed her at Lambeth, and secured the boat, where he inquii'ed the way to Mr. Beech- croft's house. A walk ot a few seconds brought them to it. Hilda's heart trembled as she knocked at the door; but she was reassured by the kindly aspect of Mr, Juke?, who answered the summons. She stated her errand to the butler, who appeared not a little surprised, and, indeed, confounded at the announcement of her name. After a short debate with himself, Mr. Jukes said his master was at home, and she should see him; and, without more ado, he led the way to the library and entered it, followed by the others. Abel was seated beside an old-fashioned bookcase, the door of which was open, discl(;sing"*a collection of goodly tomes, and had placed the book-stand 3Uj)[)orting the volume he was reading, in such a position as to receive the full light of the window. So much was he engaged in his studies, that he did not hear their approach. In the hasty glance cast by Hilda at the pictures on the wall, the most noticeable of which was a copy of Rembrandt's *'Good Samaritan," and a fine painting on the subject of Timon of Athens, she thought she could read somewhat of the character of the owner of the house. Little time, however, was allowed her for reflection, for Mr. Jukes, advancing towards his master's chair, leaned over it, and whispered a few words in his ear. "What! — who! — who did you say?" exclaimed Abel, half closing the book he was reading, and looking sharply and anxiously round. " Who did you say. Jukes ?" "Miss Scarve, sir," replied the butler; "she has brought you a letter." "Tell her I wont receive it — wont open it!" cried Abel. *'Why did you not send her away? What brings her here?" "You had better ]~)ut that question to her yourself, sir," replied Mr. Jukes, "for she is i ^ this room." "Here!" exclaimed Abel, starting to his feet. "Ah ! I see — I see. O God ! she is very like her mother." " Calm yourself, I entreat, sir," said Mr. Jukes ; " I would not iLfjmU QriuXskamK/ ?Iildas "asii ic Abei Deeciicrcil. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 75 have admitted her," he added, in a low tone, "but that she told me the letter was written b}' her mother, and left to be delivered to you under peculiar circumstances, which have now arisen. I couldn't resist a plea like that, — nor could you, sir, I'm sure." " A letter written to me by her mother !" cried Abel, shivering, as if smitten by an ague. " Leave us, Jukes, and take that man with you." " Come, friend," said Mr. Jukes to Jacob, who, with his crab- stick under his arm, stood gazing curiously on, "you had better adjourn with me to the butler's pantry." " Thank'ee, kindly, sir," replied Jacob, in tones a little less gruff than usual, for he was somewhat awe-stricken ; " I would rather stay with my young missis." " But don't you see you're in the way, my good man ?" rejoined Mr. Jukes, impatiently; " they can't talk before us. Come along." And despite his resistance, he pushed Jacob out of the room, and closed the door after him. "You have a letter for me, young lady, I believe," faltered Abel, in a voice hollow and broken by emotion. " I have, sir," she replied, giving it to him. Abel looked at the address, and another sharp convulsion passed over his frame. He, however, controlled himself by a powerful effort, and broke the seal. The perusal of the letter seemed to affect him deeply, for, staggering to his chair, he sank into it, and covering his face with his hands, wept aloud. It was some minutes before he arose. Hilda, who had watched him with much concern, was surprised to see how calm he looked. He had, indeed, regained the mastery he usually held over his feelings. " Pray be seated, young lady," he said, handing her a chair. "I would have shunned this interview if it had been in my power, but as it has been brought about, I will no*" shrink from it. How can I serve you ?" Hilda then proceeded to explain tlie object of her visit. Abel listfened to her recital with a quivering lip and Hashing eye, and at its close got up, and took a quick turn round the room. " This is only what might be expected from him — scoundrel !" he ejaculated. "Sell his daughter! — but that is nothing — he would sell his soul for gold ! I beg your pardon, young lady," he added, checking himself, as he saw the pain his exclamations occasioned her, " but if you knew the deep and irremediable injury inflicted on me by 3'our father, you would pardon this outbreak of passion. He has sacrificed others without scruple, but he shall not sacrifice you. You may count on my assistance, my protection, if you choose to confide in me." " I have my mother's injunction to confide in you, sir," she replied. " Your mother !" exclaimed Abel, in a voice of agony. " Oh, 76 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. Hilda ! what a foarfnl spell is there in that word ! — what a host of feelings does it not summon up ! I see your mother again as I remember her in her youth, — beautiful as you are, more beau- tiful, if possible — certainly more blooming, I hear the music of her voice as I listen to yours ; I feel again the charm inspired by her presence. You shall learn my history one of these days, and you will then know why your mother addressed this letter to me — why it affects me thus." "I can partly guess the cause," returned Hilda, mournfully; *'but be it what it may, it is plain she felt she iiad a strong hold on your affections, and that she thought she could rely on you when she could rely on no one else." " If she thought so, she judged rightly," replied Abel. " I consider her request as a sacred r'lijunction, and will strive to comply with it. And now," he added, changing his tone, " I must tell you that your name has been brought before me of late. My nephew, Randulph Crew, who visited your father the other night, has spoken of you." Hilda slightly coloured. *' He will much regret not being at home this morning," pur- sued Abel, "as he might have had an opportunity of further cultivating his acquaintance with you. But he is gone out witli my brother." " I hope it will not offend you to say I am glad of it," replied Hilda; "I would not willingly have met him." " Why so ?" asked Abel, who' however, looked somewhat relieved. "Because, sir, I will be frank with you," she replied, "and own that my father attributes my increased dislike of my cousin to a predilection for your nephew." " And may I expect equal frankness in the reply, if 1 ask whether there is any truth in your father's suppositions?" rejoined Abel. " You may," she answered. " Your nephew appears a very amiable and pleasing young man, but having seen him only for a few minutes, I cannot possibly feel an interest in him, beyond such as might be inspired by any stranger of equally prepossessing appearance and manners. My aversion to my cousin arises froni various causes. I half suspect him of acting a very base part towards my father, who resolutely shuts his eyes to the deception." " I will not affect to deny that I am pleased with what you say of your indifference to my nephew, Hilda," returned Abel, " because I have other views in reference to him. As to your cousin, Philip Frewin, I will make strict inquiries about him, and if your suspicions prove correct, I will myself unmask him to your father, which may perhr.ps put an end to the matter. He lives in Fcnchurch-street, you say. It so happens that aa THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 77 old friend of mine, a widow lady, Mrs. Vcrral,— a friend of your mother's, by-the-by, — resides in that street. She is an exeellcnt woman, but a little of a busy-body and a f^ossip, and makes it her business to know her neighbours' concerns better than her own. I'll venture to say she is acquainted with your cousin's affairs. I haven't seen the old lady of late, because, as you may perhaps have heard, I have little intercourse with your sex, — my habits, and indeed feelings, unfitting me for their society, — but I happen to know from my brother Trussell that she is well. You had better go to her yourself I will give you a note of introduction — though, indeed, it is not needed, for, as I have told you, she is an old friend of your mother's. In addition to gaining all the information you may require respecting your cousin, you will make a friend with whom you may take refuge, if matters — which we will not anticipate — should unhappily render sucii a step necessary." "I will do as you suggest, sir," replied Hilda; "but suppose I should encounter my cousin ?" "Tell him whei'c you are going,'' replied Abel ; "and depend upon it, if he is not what he represents himself, he will be the first to take the alarm. I will myself institute inquiries about him in another quarter." With this, he proceeded to a table on which writing materials were placed, and hastily penned a note, and gave it to Hilda. " And now, God bless you, my dear child !' he said, affection- ately. " If called upon by circumstances, you shall never want a father or protector in me !" He then rang the bell, and Mr. Jukes presently appeared, who informed him that Jacob had just sat down to dinner with the other servants. " I think, sir," he added, in a low tone, " it is the first good meal he has had for many a day, and it would be a pity to disturb him, if Miss Scarve is not in a very great hurry." Abel appealed to Hilda, and as she raised no objection, he proposed to her to take a turn in the garden till Jacob had finished his meal; and accordingly opened the window, and led iier forth. By this time Hilda had become more composed, and being quite easy with the old man, for whom indeed she felt a growing regard, she entered readily into conversation with him ; and thus more than half an hour Hew by, almost without their being aware Ckf its flight. At the end of that time, Mr. Jukes made his appearance, and informed them that Jacob was ready. Abel attended his fair visitor to the door. " If you do not find Mrs. Verral at home," he said, "or if anything should occur to make you wish to see me again, do not hesitate to come back. But, in any event, you shall hear from 78 THE miser's daughter. me — perhaps see me, to-morrow. God bless you, my child I" And taking her hand, he pressed it to his lips ; and when Hilda withdrew it, she found it wet with tears. While this was passing, Jacob shook the hospitable butler warmly by the hand, and then strode on before his young mis- tress, towards the stairs where he had left the boat. Having placed her within it, and divested himself of his coat, cravat, and hat, as before, he inquired where she meant to go, and being told to London Bridge, pulled off vigorously in that direction. CHAPTER XHI. THE FOLLY ON' THE THAMES — KITTY COXAVAY — RAXDULPH PLACED IN AX AWKWARD SITUATION BY PHILIP FREWIN. The Folly on the Thames, whither Beau Villiers and his party were steering their coarse, was a large floating house of entertain- ment moored in the centre of the stream, immediately opposite Old Somerset House. It was constructed in the latter part of the reign of Charles the Second ; and thidicr the merry monarch, who was excessively fond of aquatic annisements of all kinds, would frequently repair with his courtiers and frolic dames. Thither also Queen Mary, the consort of William the Third, went on the occasion of a grand musical entertainment ; and the place continued in vogue for many 3'ears, until at length, degene- rating in its character, it became the haunt of a very disreputable part of the communit}-. The Folly resembled a large one-storied house, very long in proportion to its width, built upon an im- mense barge. There was a platform at the top, defended by a strong wooden balustrade, and flanked at each corner by a little turret with a pointed top, surmounted by a small streamer. These turrets constituted small drinking and smoking rooms, and were fitted up with seats and tables. In the centre of the structure was a sort of open belvidere, covering the main staircase leading to the roof. On this a large flag was planted. The Folly was approached from the water by steps on three sides. It was lighted by a range of large and handsome windows, and entered by two doors, one at the end, and the other at the side. Within, it contained a long music-hall with a frescoed ceiling, gilded and painted walls, an orchestra, and the necessary complement of benches, chairs, and small tables. There was, moreover, a bar, where all sorts of liquors, materials for smoking, and other tavern luxuries were dispensed. The rest of the structure was divided into a number of small apartments for private parties, and, in short, boasted every sort of accommodation afforded by a similar place of entertainment on shore. In summer it was dehffhtful t-miMsk^nAL. The Folly on "die Thame: THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. "79 — the view of the Thames from its summit being enchanting. The coolness and freshness, combined with the enhvening influ- ences of beauty, wine, and music, made it, on its first estabUsh- ment, a charming place of recreation ; and it cannot be wondered that the merry monarch, and his merrier court, found it so much to their taste. As the party approached the aquatic hotel, thc}^ perceived a numlDcr of persons, of both sexes, seated on the roof, and in the little turret parlours, smoking, drinking, or otherwise amusing themselves; while lively strains of music proceeded from within. Several small craft were landing their passengers, and from one, a tilt boat, there issued a very pretty young woman, though of rather bold appearance, who, as she took the hand of a young man in her ascent of the steps, displayed a remarkably neat foot and ankle. On reaching the deck, she turned for a moment to survey the scene, and her eye alighting on Randulph, his good looks appeared to rivet her regards. This fascinating creature seemed to be about twenty; had very regular features, auburn hair, a brilliant complexion — whether wholly unindebted to art might be questioned — but there could be no question as to the natural brillianc}^ of her hazel eyes; and wore a pink silk hooped gown, made very low in front, so as to display her beautifuily-l'ormcd and radiantly-white neck and shoulders. Her sleeves were very short, probably so contrived with the view of exhibiting her rounded arms, and edged with lace. A white silk apron embroidered with silver, a pretty fly- cap, and a necklace of precious stones, from which depended a diamond cross, completed her attire. The ^''oung man by whom she was attended, had a slight, thin figure, and sharp disagree- able features, with rather an apish expression. He was dressed with much smartness, but had by no means the air of a gentle- man, and seemed to be regarded with indixFerence, almost amounting to contempt, by his female companion. " Who is that young lady?" asked Randulph of Sir Singleton, who happened to sit next him.. " Let me see !" exclaimed the old beau, placing his glass to his eye. " Ah ! gadzooks ! 'tis the delicious creature I mentioned to yi)u — the little Hay market actress, Kitty Conway!" "Kitty Conway! where is she?" cried Trusscll, who heard the remark, but whose back was towards the object of their admiration. Sir Singleton pointed her out, and upon the instant every eye was directed towards her. Whether unable to stand so fierce a fire, or whether, as is more probable, dragged away by her com- panion, who did not appear to relish the notice she attracted, it is needless to inquire, but pretty Kitty suddenly vanished from their ^ight. "Well, isn't she delicious?" cried Trussell to Randulph. 80 THE MISER'S DAUGHTEU. " Egad ! you have made a conquest of prett}'- Kitt}', my bo}'. I saw the parting glance she gave you over her shoulder as she whisked through the dt^or. Don't lose sight of her. You c m soon put the city beau, by whom she is attended, Jiors de comhntP Further remarks were interrupted b^' the arrival of the boat at the steps. A strange, black muzzled fellow, in a Gucrnsc}' shirt, with bare arms and bare legs, and who was a regular attendant at the Folly, helped them to disembark ; and his request to " be remembered" by the beau being met with a very munificent reioinder, he well-nigh lost his balance in his glee and got a tumble into the water. Tlie party then entered the music-hall, and just as they passed through the door, Randulph chancing to look behind him, per- ceived that the stranger had likewise landed, and was mounting the steps. The novel scene, however, before him, so completely engrossed his attention, that he could think of little else. U})- wards of a hundred persons of both sexes thronged the room ; many of the ladies were masked, and a good deal of freedom marked their conduct. They talked and laughed loudly and recklessly. At one end of the hall, the benches were taken aside Co allow Kitty Conwa}' and her companion, with some other -couples, to perform the cushion dance. At the upper end of the room stood the musicians. The party made their way towards the dancers, and the beau and Sir Singleton praised Kittv's beauty in tones so loud, and in terms of admiration so strong, as would have occasioned confusion to any young lady troubled with a more oppressive sense of bashfulness than she was. Her partner did not know whether to look pleased or annoyed. He was evidently overpowered by the presence of Beau Villiers, whom he regarded with a species of awe ; and as these applauses of Kitty gave a fancied conse(^uence to himself, he was weak -enough to be gratified by them. Towards the close of tlie figure, a particular step, executed by the pretty actress, elicited more than usual rapture from Sir Singleton, and he called to Ran- dulph — " Look at her, Mr. Randul{)h Crew. Is it not delicious ?" At the sound of this name, Kitty's partner started, and stared so hard at Randulph, that he could scarcely finish the dance. " Upon my word, Philip Frewin, you are a very stuj)id partner," said the actress to him. " If you do not exert yourself more, I shall ask that handsome young fellow, who is ogling me there, to take my hand in the next set." "I am quite fatigued, Kitty," replied Philip, confusedly; " let ■lis have some refreshment — a little 'rack punch, or a glass of champagne." Kitty Conway assented, and they moved off to one of the side tables, where a waiter s})eedily placed glasses before them, and opened a bottle of champagne. It must be confessed — unwilling MS we arc to admit it — thai Randulph was not altogether proot' THE MISERS DAUGHTER, 81 against the undisguised admiration of the pretty actress, and that he could not help returning the tender glances she shot towards liim. Meanwhile, the performances went forward; an Irish jig followed, in which Randulph and Sir Singleton joined ; this was succeeded hy some comic songs; and Mr. Villiers, who did not altogether relish the entertainment, walked forth, and was soon after followed hy the others. As they all stood leaning over the sides of the bark, laughing at what had occurred, and admiring the gaiety of the scene, a skiff, impelled by a vigorous rower, as was evident by the progress it made, and containing a young female, wrapped in a black silk scarf, and wuth raven tresses, scarcely covered by a small bonnet, floating in the breeze, rapidly neared them. Various speculations were put forth as to whether this young female would prove as pretty on a nearer inspection as she looked at a distance ; but in these Randulph took little part. To speak truth, his thoughts were running upon the fair syren within, and happening to cast his eyes towards the plat- form above, he perceived, leaning over the balustrade, and gazing at him, the stranger ! At this juncture, Philip Frewin came forth to see whetlier his boat was in readiness, and admonished the watermen, one of whom was philandering with a buxom damsel who was leaning over the side of the deck, that he should start immediately. He had scarcely, however, issued the order than his eye fell upon the skiff containing the young female before mentioned, and which was now close at hand. He started as if an apparition had met his gaze, ducked dow^n, and would have made his escape into the music-hall, if Kitty Conway had not placed herself in his way. Retreat was now impossible, and Philip's distress was heightened by the fair actress, who exclaimed, somewhat pettishly, " Why do you leave me here, sir ? Why don't you hand me to the- boat?" Philip was almost at his wit's end, The skiff containing Hilda and Jacob, both of whom he had too clearly recognised, though he could not account for their appearance, unless it were a trick of the fieqd to convict hini, was so near, that if he complied with Kitty's request, discovery would be inevitable. A plan suddenly occurred to him, by which he hoped to free himself from risk, and place Randulph, whom he had reason to regard as a rival, in an awkward dilemma. Without apprising Kitty of his intention, he drew her forward^ and bending down as low as he could, to elude observation, said to Randulph — " Will you have the kindness, sir, to hand this lady into her boat ? You will do me an infinite favour ; I have dropped a pocket-book in the music-hall, and must go back to search for it." Randulph was a good deal surprised by the proposal, but he 82 THE miser's daughter. unhesitatingly consented ; and, taking Kitty's hand, which she very graciously accorded, rewarding his attention by a sHght squeeze, led her down the steps. All this occurred to the infinite amusement of Trussell, who stood a little back near the door, ogling a rather pretty damsel, and to the no slight chagrin of Sir Singleton, who, guessing the intention of Philip Frewin, had pushed forward to offer his services, but found himself supplanted. But these were not the only witnesses of the scene. By this time, the t-kiff, containing Hilda, had come up, and with a pang of jealous feeling, neither to be accounted for nor controlled, she beheld Randulph handing the pretty actress, whose character she could scarcely mistake, down the steps. Jacob saw what was passing as well as herself, but, having no jealousy to divert his attention from other matters, he detected Philip Frewin even in his disguise, and, resting on his oars, exclaimed, "Look! miss, look ! — there is your cousin Philip. Is that the dress he wore yesterday ? I told master he wasn't what he seemed. Look at him, I say !" But Hilda was too much agitated to heed these exclamations. She could see nothing but Randulph and the pretty actress. Nor was she without embarrassment on her own account ; for Mr. Cripps, having recognised her, pointed her out to his master, and the beau, being much struck with her beauty, favoured her with a very insolent stare. But if Randulph had been guilty of disloyalty towards the object of his affections, his punishment was not long delayed; for, as he handed Kitty into the boat, which was steadied by the black-muzzled Jack, before mentioned, his gaze encountered that of Hilda, and he was instantly filled with confusion. He tried to disengage himself from the actress, who, however, sportively detained him, and, unable to retreat, he cut a most ridiculous figure. Indeed, he was not a little relieved, though he felt how much he should sink in her esteem, when he saw Hilda bend forward, and order Jacob, who continued resting on his oars, to pass on. He continued gazing after the skiff till it was out of sight: but Hilda did not look back. Meanwhile, as Philip Frewin did not make his appearance, Kitty Conway became very impatient, and turning a deaf ear to all the high-flown compliments showered upon her by Sir Single- ton Spinke, entreated Randulph to go and see what her friend was doing. The young man could not very well refuse compli- ance with the request, and he accordingly entered the music- hall, and returned in a few minutes with Philip, who, finding the coast clear, recovered his composure, and tendering his thanks, in a very abject manner, to Randulph, got into the boat with Kitty, and ordered the men to row to Savoy Stairs. Ran- dulph was too angry with himself, and now too indifferent to the fascinations of the pretty actress to return the tender glance with which she favoured him on her departure. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. S5 ■ The incident, however, afforded abundant merriment to his companions, who were greatly diverted by his looks, which they attributed to jealousy, and they endeavoured to remove the feel- ing by assuring him that Kitty had exhibited a decided prefer- ence for him. His imeasiness was not relieved by the admiration expressed of the miser's daughter by Beau Villiers, nor was Trussell altogether pleased to find the beau so much captivated. That Hilda should have passed at the precise juncture seemed to surprise everybody. CHAPTER XIV. randclph's interview with cordwell firebras in the cloisters of westminster abbey. Shortly after this, the party entered their boat, and returned to Whitehall Stairs. Randulph had been so much engrossed by his own feelings, that he forgot the stranger, and only called him to mind a few minutes after he had landed, and when it was too late to look for him. He did not, however, forget his appoint- ment with the writer of the mysterious letter, and, regardless of the construction that might be put upon it, told his uncle he had a particular engagement, which he must keep, at six o'clock. Trussell smiled significantly at the announcement, but made no remark, and pi'oposed that they should all dine at one of the French ordinaries in Suffolk Street. Beau Villiers pleaded an engagement, but Sir Singleton acquiesced, and the trio re{)aired to the ordinary, where an excellent dinner was set before them. Mindful of his appointment, Randulph, in spite of the jokes of his companions, who strove to detain him, got up from table at five o'clock, and took his way past Charing-cross and Whitehall, towards the Abbey. He could not resist the impulse that prompted him to pass through the Little Sanctuary, and felt half ■ disposed to call at the miser's, and offer some explanation of his conduct to Hilda. Though the absurdity of the notion caused him to abandon it almost as soon as formed, he lingered before I the house for a few minutes in the hope of discerning some of its inmates, but was disappointed. He 'Jicn entered Peter Pokerich's shop, to inquire the way to the Abbey cloisters. It chanced that the little barber was about to take an evening stroll with the fair Thomasine, who was waiting for him, and he offered to show Randulph the way; but this the young man, who had his own reasons for not desirino- the attendance of the • . . . ^ inquisitive barber, declined, though in such a way as to excite Peter's curiosity, who secretlv determined to follow him. As G 2 £4 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. soon as Rarululpli was gone, he mentioned his desiirn to the fair Thomasine, who was nothing loath to aceompany him, and they set out together, taking special care to keep out of Randulph's view. The young man shaped his course towards the Abbey, and, skirting its western extremity, passed under the archway leading to the playground of Westminster school. Here he paused, and, addressing a porter, was directed towards another archway, through which he passed, and entered the cloisters. On seeing this, Peter, still accompanied by his fair companion, ran forward, and finding that Randulph was walking in the south ambulatory, they struck into the west, being still able to watch him through the open columns. Randulph, meanwhile, unconscious that he was the object of such scrutiny, slowly traversed the ambulatory, and, charmed with the exquisite groined arches of its roof, hoary with age, and the view afforded through the shafted windows looking into the quadrangle, of the reverend buttresses and of the Abbey, almost forgot the object that brought him thither. He was arrested at the eastern extremity by the ancient inscriptions and brasses, pointing out the resting-places of the old abbots Laurentius, Gisles- bertus, and Vitalis, when a heavy footstep sounded on his ear, and, looking up, he beheld the stranger. Before he could recover his surprise at this unexpected apparition, the new comer advanced towards him, and with a slight inclination of the head, and a singularly significant smile, said, " So you have kept your appointment with me, Mr. Randulph Crew." "Are you, then, Mr. Cordjwell Firebras?" exclaimed Ran- dulph, in surprise. " I am so called," replied the other. " I was little aware, sir, when I saw you this morning at the barber's, how soon and how strangely we should be brought together again," rejoined Randulph; "but this in some measure accounts for the manner in which you have haunted me through- out the day. Perhaps you will now explain your motive for doing so, as well as for summoning me hither." " All in good time, 3'oung gentleman," replied Ccrdwell Fire- bras, gravely. "Before I advert to my own concerns let me say a wrrd on yours. Answer me truly — have you not conceived an affection for Hilda Scarve ? Nay, you need not answer. Your hesitation convinces me you have. Circumstances led you into acting very injudiciously this morning at the Folly, and I fear your conduct may have produced an unfavourable impression on Hilda's mind, — for I watched her closely. But heed not this. I will set all to rights. I have much influence with her father. He designs her for another — the apish gallant of the pretty actress who fascinated you this morning. But you shall have her, nevertheless, — on one condition." "Despite the singularity of your address, there is an earnest- ness in your manner that inspires me with confidence in you, sir," Kwrptj CtoUC J ruMU--^A- witii CoTdwe mth.e Qoisters THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. R5 rejoined Randulph ; " the rather, that yoii told me this morning you were an old friend of my father's. I will freely confess to you that I am captivated by the miser's daughter, and that I would hazard much to obtain her. Now, on what condition do you propose to make her mine ?" " You shall learn presently," replied Firebras, evasively. " Let us take a turn along the cloisters," he added, moving slowly forward. They marched on together in silence, until they reached the eastern angle of the ambulatory, when Firebras, suddenly halt- ing, laid his heavy hand upon Randulph's arm, and fixed a searching look upon him. " Young man," he said; " I will tell you what you must do to gain the miser's daughter." " What? what?" demanded Randulph. "You must join the Jacobite party," replied Firebras; "to which her father belongs — to which your father belonged — and to which your mother also belongs." Surprise kept Randulph silent. But neither he nor his com- panion were aware that this treasonable proposition had been overheard by Peter Pokerich and the fair Thomasine, who, having stolen upon them unperceived, were ensconced behind the shafts of the adjoining arches. CHAPTER XV. MRS. Clinton's alarm — the miser's unexpected return — the disappearance OF the mortgage money — EFFRONTERY OP PHILIP FREWIN AND DIGGS. Day wore on, and Mrs. Clinton, wondering at her niece's pro- longed stay, became extremely apprehensive lest Mr. Scarve should return before her, and discover her absence. She had just despatched her scanty dinner, having waited r.iiore than an hour for Hilda, removed the things, that they might not excite the miser's suspicion in case of his sudden return, and sat down to her needlework, on which she was diligently, though almost mechanically employed, when she was startled by a sound like the opening of a window, followed by a stealth3^ tread, in one of the rooms upstairs. The idea of robbers instantly occurred to her, for she recollected the large amount of gold in the house, as well as the public manner in which it had been paid, and she felt how likely it was an attempt might be made to carry it off, especially if it had been ascertained that she was alone in the house. She had heard of murders committed in lone habitations in broad day, and, in most cases, upon defenceless females like herself; and filled with indescribable terror, she rushed forth, with the intention of givin<>; the alarm. Before slie gained the 86 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. passage, a knock was heard at the street door, and hurrying to it, she hastily, and with trembhng hands, unfastened it, and beheld the miser. Tf she was startled by his appearance, he was not less so by hers ; and, fixing a terrible look upon her, he demanded why Jacob had not let him in ? Receiving no answer, he pushed her roughly into the passage, and clapping the door hastily to, proceeded to the parlour. Poor Mrs. Clinton scarcely knew what to do, but at last she followed him, and found him pacing to and fro within the room like one distracted. " Where is Jacob?" he cried, running towards her, and seizing her arm. "Is the rascal gone out with- out leave ? Why don't you speak, woman ? Have you dared to send him out? — or has Hilda?" " He will be back directly," replied Mrs. Clinton, almost frightened out of her senses. " I expected him long before this.'' " Then he is gone out," cried the miser, as if he was unwilling to credit what he heard ; " and Hilda, I suppose, is gone with him?" Mrs. Clinton returned a terrified affirmative. " And where, in the devil's name, are they gone to ?" roared the miser. "I am not at liberty to say," replied Mrs. Clinton. " I ivill have an answer !" cried the miser, glaring at her as if he would annihilate her. " Where is she gone ?'* " You will extort nothing from me by this violence," returned Mrs. Clinton, firmly. " Then you shall quit my house to-night !"' he rejoint^l, fiercely. " I will not have my authority set at nought. Seek another home, madam, and another protector." The poor lady hung her head, but made no reply. "Mrs. Clinton," he continued, with forced calmness, "I put it to yourself — and imless I am altogether mistaken in you, you will not be insensible to the appeal — I put it to you, I say, whether, when I demand, as a father, to know what has become of my daughter, you can reconcile it to your conscience not to tell me ?" " I will tell you thus much, sir," she replied, after a pause — " Hilda has been induced to take this step solely in consequence of your determination to unite her to her cousin. She is gone to consult a friend." " W^hat friend?" cried the miser, springing towards her. " I insist upon knowing." " She is gone to see Mr. Abel Beechcroft," rejilied Mrs. Clinton. If a heavy blow had been dealt him, the unhappy man could not have been more staggered than by this information. He turned away in confusion, muttering — " Abel Beechcroft ! Why should she go to him ?" THE miser's daughter. 87 " Because her poor mother left a letter to be delivered to him if circumstances should require it," rejoined Mrs. Clinton. " And you gave her that letter?" cried the miser. " I did," she replied. " And you sent her to her father's bitterest enemy for advice?** he continued. " It is well — it is well I" and he strode to the side door, as if with the intention of going up to his bed-room. Up to this moment, Mrs. Clinton had forgotten the circum- stance that had so recently alarmed her, but she now recalled it, and ran after him, crying, " Sir I sir !" " What does the woman want ?" demanded the miser, turning fiercely upon her. The answer stuck in her throat. Dreading to provoke a fresh explosion of rage, she muttered some unintelligible excuse, and retired. The miser, meanwhile, having obtained access to his chamber, threw his hat upon the bed, passed on, and unlocked the door of the closet. Marching up to the large chest in which he had deposited the bags of gold on the previous night, he sat down upon it, and was for some time lost in deep and painful reflec- tion. He then rose, and taking a bunch of keys from his pockety applied one of them to the lock of the chest. It would not turn;, and imagining that he must have made some mistake, he drew it out and tried another. This, however, did not fit at all; and returning the first, he perceived, on examination, that it was the right one. Again applying it, and proceeding more carefully, he found, to his surprise and dismay, that the chest was not locked. Well knowing he had not left it in this state, he felt con- vinced that something nnist be wrong, and it was long before he could prevail upon himself to raise the lid. When he did so,, he started back with a cry of anguish and despair. The chest was empty I For some minutes he remained as if transfixed, with his hands stretched out, his mouth wide open, his eyes almost starting from their sockets, and fixed upon the void where his treasure shoub-^ have been. At length he shrieked in accents of despair, " I have been robbed — robbed of my gold ! — robbed — robbed 1 It is a wicked thing — a cruel thing to rob me I Others do not love gold as I love it. I love it better than wife, child, mistress, — better than life itself! Would that they had killed me, rather than take my gold ! Oh ! those fair shining pieces — so broad, so bright, so beautiful ! — what has become of them ?" After a pause, during which he experienced the acutest mental anguish, he looked around to see how the robbery could have been effected. A moment's examination showed him that the iron bars in front of the little window opposite the chest had been removccL 83 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " The villians must have found entrance here !" he cried, rushing towards the window. And clambering up an old oaken bureau that stood near it, he pushed it wide open, and stretching his long, scraggy neck through it, gazed into the little garden beneath. Unable to discover anything, he drew back, and casting his eyes over the bureau, perceived that the dust with which it was covered had been slightly brushed away; but whether by himself or the depredators it was now, of course, impossible to determine. A bottle standing on one corner of the bureau had not been removed. It was clear that the plunderers had gone direct to the chest, of which they must have possessed a key, for the lock, though strained, had not been forced. Maddened by these reflections, and unable to account for the occurrence, he again vented his fury in words. " I have it !" he shrieked, " it is that accursed Welsh baronet who has robbed me. He paid me the money in this public way only to delude me. I'll charge him with the robbery — I'll prove it against him — I'll hang him ! Oh ! it would delight me to hang him ! I would give a thousand pounds to sec it done I A thousand pounds ! What is that to the fourteen thousand I have lost? I shall go mad, and it were happy for me to do so. Philip Frewin will refuse to marry my daughter. Her portion is gone — gone! Why was I tempted forth with Firebras? I ought to have taken my seat on that chest — to have eaten my meals upon it — to have slept upon it ! Night nor day should I have quitted it ! Fool that I have been I I have been rightly served — rightly served I And yet it is hard upon me, an old man, to lose all I held dear — very hard !" And falling upon his knees, with his hands clasped together, beside the vacant chest, he wept aloud. This paroxysm of rage and grief having subsided, he again rose and descended to the parlour, where he found Mrs. Clinton anxiously waiting his reappearance. She instantly divined what had happened, and retreated before him as he advanced, aim )st fearing from his looks that he would do her a violence. Shaking his clenched hand, and foaming at the mouth, he attempted to discharge a volley of imprecations against her; but rage took away the power of speech, and he stood gesticulating and shaking before her, — a frightful and pitiable spectacle. " For Heaven's sake, sir, compose yourself," she cried, " or you will have a fit of some dangerous illness. You terrify me to death." " I am glad of it," he shrieked. " I have been robbed — the mortgage money is gone — the fourteen thousand pounds. D'ye hear, woman ? I've been robbed, I say — robbed I" " I feared as much," replied Mrs Clinton ; " but the robbery cannot have been long effected, for just before you knocked THE miser's daughter. 89 at the door, I heard a window creak, as 1 ihouglit, in your loom." " You did !" screamed the miser. " And why did you not tell nic this before? I might have caught them — might have got back the spoil." " If you hadn't frightened me so much about Hilda, 1 should have told you," replied Mrs. Clinton, in a deprecatory tone ; " but your violence put it out of my head." "Hell and fiends!" ejaculated the miser; "what is Hilda — what are fifty daughters compared with my gold? If you had enabled me to recover it, I would have forgiven you all the rest. Don't stand trembling there, fool ! but come with me, and let us see whether we can discover any traces of the robbers 1" So saying, he hurried towards a small back door in the passage, the bolts of which were so rusty that he had considerable dif- ficidty in removing them ; and this effected, he passed into the garden. A most miserable and neglected place it was, and almost wholly overgrown with long rank grass, such as is to be seen in some city churchyards. But it had once been prettily laid out, as was proved by the lines of box bordering the Hower-beds, and the trellised arbour and green-house. The appearance of the latter made the desolation of the place complete. The glass was removed from the frames, one of the walls had been pulled down, and the bricks and plaster were lying scattered about, together with a heap of broken flower-pots, and a number of worn-out and battered gardening implements ; the arbour was covered with the net-like folds of a dead creeper, and the trellis-work was decayed and falling to pieces; the little window, to which access had been gained by the robbers, was on the upper stor}^, and about six- teen feet from the ground. The miser gazed anxiously and inquiringly at it. All the lower windows, including that of the parlour, which he usually occupied, were closely barred, and had evidently not been disturbed. Those in the attics were boarded up; while of the remainder in the first floor, only the small one in question was open. On examining the ground beneath it he found foot-prints upon tjie soil and on the crushed grass, and, as far as he could ascer- tain, two or three persons must have assisted at the robber}'. He traced the foot-prints across the garden to a wall about six feet high, at the back of which was a narrow passage, communicating between the adjoining house and the area in the front of We.-i- minster Abbey; and here, from certain indications in the soil, he had no doubt that the depredators had got over. His vocifera- tions while conducting the search brought some of the inmates of the next house into the passage, and they told him they had seen and heard nothing, but begged him to come round and satisfy himself This he instantly did, and found their repre- 90 THE miser's daughter. sentations perfectly correct. The only proof the robbers having made their approach by the passage, rested in the fact of the door being left open. His investigations ended, the miser, who made no remark while conducting them, went back to his own house. To his surprise, he found that his daughter and Jacob had returned. The latter looked greatly disconcerted, and con- tinued twirling his hat between his fingers, but Hilda advanced towards him. " I am greatly distressed to hear of your loss, father," she said. " And to whom am I to attribute it ?" he rejoined, bitterly. " If you had remained at home, and Jacob had been on the watch, it would not have happened." "Perhaps not," she rejoined; " but I am not wholly to blame. It was your unkindness that compelled nie to take this step." " Well, and what does good Abel Beechcroft — kind Abel Beechcroft say ?" cried the miser, tauntingly. " What does he advise ? — will he receive you ? — will he adopt you ? — will he give you to his nephew Randulph ? He is welcome to do so if he pleases." " Do not let us speak on this subject now, father," rejoined Hilda; "you have too much upon your mind without it. 1 pray you to believe that 1 have been guilty of no wilful disobedience tovvards you." " Pshaw !" cried the miser, contemptuously ; " I will not have my patience abused by such idle assertions. But, as you say, we ■will discuss the matter at another time. Answer me only one question — have you seen Randulph Crew ?" " I have," replied Hilda, blushing deeply. " At his uncle's?" demanded the miser. ** No," she rejoined ; "but in a situation, and under circum- stances that, if I had entertained the slightest regard for him, would have effectually obliterated it." " We saw your nephew at the same time, sir," interposed Jacob, who had now regained his self-possession. " Where did you see him ?" asked the miser. "At the Folly on the Thames," replied Jacob. "He was not in the miserable dress he wore on his visit to you, but in a fine suit and handsome peruke. I told you he was playin' you ialse ; and if I am not deceived, he was on good terms with the gay lady to whom Mr. Randulph Crew was payin' attention, and of whom Miss Hilda is so jealous !" " Jacob !" she exclaimed, again colouring, " Nay, no offence, miss," he returned ; " but you know it is the truth." " "What idle story is this?" exclaimed the miser, incredulously. Jacob's reply was cut short by a knock at the door. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 91 ** Aro you at liomc, sir?" he a^kcd. '• Yes — yes !" replied the miser ; " in my present frame of mind I care not whom I see." Jacob then departed, and in a few seconds returned, with a countenance fraught with vexation and surprise, ushering in ])iggs and PhiHp Frewin. The latter was dressed in the same miserable suit, the same old wig, and the same old shoes with liigh quarters, that he had worn on the preceding day. The visitors appeared struck with the embarrassed air of the miser and his family, and Diggs inquired the cause of it. " Before I explain what has happened to myself, Mr. Diggs,'* said Scarve, " I think it right to state that my servant, Jacob Post, declares he saw m}^ nephew on board the Folly on the Thames this morning, and very diiferently dressed from what he is at present." " I saw him, not two hours ago," replied Jacob. " Two hours ago must have been half-past two," rejoined Diggs, taking out his watch, " and at that time he was with me. You must, therefore, be mistaken, my good friend." " I am quite at a loss to conceive what Jacob can mean," said Philip, " but I certainly was with Mr. Diggs at the time speci- fied, as he has just stated." " You know well enough what I mean, Mr. Philip," rejoined Jacob, gruffly — "you know you're deceivin' your uncle." Mr. Diffgs smiled at the miser, and shrufrsed his shoulders. "They're in league together, sir," said Jacob, ^' if you don't believe me, ask Miss Hilda if she didn't see him." " I certainl^^ thought I saw Philip," said Hilda, " but I confess I was too much confused at the time to observe accurately." " May I ask how m^' fiiir cousin chanced to be in a situation to make such observations?" inquired Philip. "Ay, you may well ask that?" added the miser. " It can matter little why I was there," replied Hilda ; " nor do I conceive myself called upon to answer the question." "I can give you no explanation, Philip," said Scarve, "'for I have received none myself My daughter has chosen to go out without leave during my absence, and Jacob has accompanied her. I profess myself wholly in the dark as to where she has been." "' That is not literally true, father," replied Hilda, " for I have already admitted that I have been to Mr. Abel Beechcroft, and 1 may now add," she continued, looking at Philip, " tJiat I have called upon Mrs. Verral, in Fenchurch- street." " Mrs. Verral !" exclaimed Philip, starting. " Ay, you may well look surprised and dismayed, sir," pursued Hilda; "you anticipate what is to follow. She has made your real character and circumstances known to me. Father, vour nephew is not more false in outward appearance than in reality. 92 THE MISER'S DAUGIITE?t. He is a ruined man, seeking an alliance with me only to repair his broken fortunes." " It is necessary for me now to interpose, Miss Scarve," said Ditrers. " No onc cau be better acquainted with your cousin's affairs than I am ; and so far from being a ruined man, or in the slio litest degree embarrassed, he is at this moment worth half a million of money." " Do yon hear that?" cried the miser, triumphantly. "I shall not speak of myself," said Philip. " No, you had better not," interrupted Jacob. " Peace, sirrah !" cried the miser; " there is no need of asscr- 4;ions, nephew. I am quite satisfied. But what brings v(;u here?" " We come to conclude the marriage settlement, sir," rejoined Diggs. "My client is anxious to expedite the match." "I regret to tell you a very unfortunate accident has just occurred, which will prevent my giving the sum I intended," said the miser. " How so, sir?" cried the attorney, with a disappointed look. " That's right, sir," said Jacob, drawing near his master; and twitching his coat tail, he whispered in his car, " Touch 'em up on that." " Be quiet, sirrah !" cried the miser, aloud. *' To put the matter at rest," he added to the attorney, *' I must inform you, that during my absence I have been plundered of the whole of the large sum paid me yesterday." " What !" exclaimed Philip, turning very pale, " the fourteen thousand pounds?" Mr. Scarve replied in the affirmative. " God bless me I my dear sir, you don't say so ?" cried Diggs. " Yes I do," rejoined the miser; " every jot of it is gone." " What an unheard-of robbery !" exclaimed the attorney — **• but it must be inquired into. When did it happen — and iiow ? Pray give me all the particulars. I must set the officers to work immediately." " No," replied the miser, mournfully — " it is gone, and em- ploying thief-takers and constables wont bring it back again, but, on the contrary, will involve further loss of mone>', as well as of time and patience. I meant to give it to m}'^ daughter on her marriage. But as I have lost it, she must go without a portion?" " Without a portion, Mr. Scarve !" exclaimed Diggs. " j'lie loss of fourteen thousand pounds is heavy, it is true, but it falls more lightly upon you than it would on most men. You have still wealth sufficient to make the settlement you proposed upon jour daughter without feeling it." •' Pardon me, Mr. Diggs," returned the miser, " I proposed to give my daughter a particular sum of monc}', which I had in con- templation at the time of making the offer. Of this I have been THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 93 feloniously deprived, and it is no longer in my power to fulfil my agreement." " " Well, my dear uncle," said Philip, " sooner than " "I know what your generosity prompts you to say, Mr. Frewin," interrupted Diggs; "but I have a dut}'^ to you as well as to my worthy client and friend, Mr. Scarve, and I must say, • hat if he departs from his word, on the present plea, I cannot advise you to proceed with the match." " I have not the money to give, Philip," said the miser, j)ite()usly. "Nay, uncle, if you put it on that footing, I myself must retract," rejoined Philip. "I am not ignorant of your wealth." "Nobody doubts it," remaa-ked Jacob, "or you wouldn't be so urgent for the match. Stick to your determination, sir," he added to his master. " Don't give your daughter anything, and you'll soon see how the gentleman will hang fire." " Leave the room, sirrah !" cried the miser, angrily. And Jacob moved towards the door, but he did not go out. " Before I am disposed of in this way, father, and without my own consent," said Hilda, '-'I must beg that Mr. Philip Frewin's character may be fully investigated; that you will hear what I have to say on the subject; and what Mrs. Verral has to say." "I will hear nothing!" cried the miser, furiously. "You are acting under the advice of Abel Beechcroft. Mrs. Verral is a Iriend of his. He sent you to her. Can you deny it ?" " I cannot," replied Hilda. "Mrs. Verral may malign me as much as she thinks fit," said Philip, boldly. " But fortunately my character stands on toO' firm a basis to be shaken by a malicious woman's aspersions. I must entreat, sir," he added, turning, with an appearance of candour, towards his uncle, "that you will investigate this matter; that you will not put faith in Mr. Abel Beechcrofi's. assertions, or in those of Mrs. Verral; but inquire among my friends — among those who know me well — as to how I stand. It is, perhaps, useless to refer to Mr. Diggs." " Not at all," replied the miser. " As I said before, I an> quite satisfied with his assurance." " And I can give it most heartily, sir," replied the attorney. " Excepting yourself!, I do not know a more careful, prudent,, sagacious man than my client, Mr. Philip Frewin. I feel called upon, by these attacks on his character, to say thus much for him. And I can do what his calumniators cannot — I can give you proof of what I assert. I suspect, sir, you will find when you look into the matter, that some scheme is hatching against you." "To be sure he will," cried Jacob; "and he will find out who is hatchin' it too !" " Nephew," said the miser, taking Philip's hand, " I am quite 94 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. satisfied of the rectitude of your conduct, and the stability of your position." "Father," cried Hilda, "you are deceived. You are the dupe of a designer." But the miser turned a deaf ear to her, and exchanged a few words in a low tone with Philip and Diggs. Soon afterwards, as they took their departure, he accompanied them to the street- door, and fastened it after them. CHAPTER XVI. IiADY BRABAZON DEPOSITS HER DIAMONDS WITH THE MISER — GALLAXTRT OF THE LATTER — HE DISCOVERS THE CONTRIVER OP THE ROBBERY OF THE MORTGAGE MONEY. When Mr. Scarve returned, the parlour was vacant, — Hilda and her aunt having retired to their own room, and Jacob having descended to the cellar to get out of the way. The miser mounted to the ladies' room, and seeing the key in the door, turned it, and took it out. This done, he sat down in his chair, and remained for licarly two hours pondering on the events of the day. He was still wrapped in painful meditation, when a loud knock was heard without. Before an answer could be returned, the summons was repeated; the street-door was opened by Jacob, footsteps resounded along the passage, and, as the miser raised his head in surprise. Lady Brabazon was announced. It is quite certain, that if Mr. Scarve had been consulted, he would have refused her ladyshij) admittance. But as it was not now in his power to deny himself, he rose with the best grace he could assume to receive her. Jacob received a nod, and with- drew. " Well, Mr. Scarve," said Lady Brabazon, " I am come to know whether I can have the four thousand pounds to-night." "Impossible, your ladyship — impossible!" replied the miser. *'If you will pay me twice the interest agreed upon — it cannot be. I have suffered a very heavy loss to-day — a very heavy loss, indeed." " Poh — poh ! that is always, the way with you usurers," replied Lady Brabazon. " You are' always suifering some heavy loss. But you don't expect me to believe you. You take a great deal too good care of your money to lose it. I must have a thousand pounds for a special purpose to-night. And if you will not let me have the four thousand, I must have the smaller amount, and on the security of these jewels." And she produced a case of diamonds. " You see," she added, displaying them, " they are worth nearly double the amount." THE M1SER*S DAUGHTER. 05 "They are very brilliant," replied the miser, g.azing at them with the eye of a connoisseur. " But I cannot lend your lady- ship the money." '• Mr. Scarve," said Lad}' Brabazon, " I have a debt to pav to-night, and if I do not discharge it, my character will be entirely'' lost." " Your ladyship's character as a punctual paymaster will scarcely suffer by the delay of a night," said Scarve, drily. " But this is a debt of honour !" rejoined Lady Brabazon. " I will redeem my jewels in less than a week." " Oh, if it is a debt of honour, that is quite another thing," said the miser. " This is certainly a magnificent set of diamonds. Your ladyship must look vastly well in them. Favour me bv putting them on." " Certainly, Mr. Scarve, if you desire it," replied Lady Bra- bazon, condescendin<:^ly. "I don't know which to admire most — ^your ladyship or the diamonds," observed the miser, gallantly. " The old fool has fallen in love with me," thought Lady Bra- bazon ; " I must improve the advantage I have gained. You are very complaisant, Mr. Scarve," she added, aloud, and with one of her bewitching smiles — a smile which, in her younger days, had never failed of execution. " It would be strange if I were not, to so fascinating a person. as your lad^'ship," replied the miser, with a strange leer, that sat very ill on his withered features. Lady Brabazon cast down her eyes. " I almost forget what brought me hither," she observed, after a slight pause, during which she hoped the miser would follow up his gallant commencement. '•'A proof it cannot be of great importance," rejoined Scarve: *' but your ladyship has asked me a favour, and I will beg one in return. I have been disappointed in my dearest expectations of late. My daughter will not marry according to my wishes. What shall I do? I am too old to marry again." " Scarcely," replied her ladyship, trying to force a blush, but decidedly failing in the attempt. " I will put a case," continued the miser, '' merely for consider- ation. Suppose I were to offer myself to a person of your lady- ship's rank — and in your ladj'ship's position. What sort of reception should I be likely to meet with ?" " That, I should say, would depend entirely upon the settle- ment you proposed to make, Mr. Scarve," replied Lady Brabazon, in a business-like tone. " You are reported to be immensely fich. You have some misunderstandino; with your daughter, vou say — which 1 can readuy conceive — daughters are so very un- manageable — there is my Clementina, for instance, the sweetest temper in the world, but she gives me an infinity of trouble. 96 THE miser's daughter. But, as 1 \vas saying, you are immensely rich — money is no object to you ; if, therefore, you were to settle upon a lady in my position somewhere about a hundred thousand pounds — but not less — I think — mind, I only think— for I offer a very hasty and ill-considered opinion — I think, however, she might be induced to accept you." " Rather a large sum to pay for a wife at my time of life, your ladyship," observed the miser, drily. "Not a fraction more than would be required, believe me, my good sir," replied Lady Brabazon. " Then I must abandon any views I may have entertained of an exalted alliance," sighed the miser. " But suppose we take another view of the case. Perhaps, for a hundredth part of the sum, there would be no necessity for marriage at all." " That is a view of the case which I cannot for a moment contemplate, Mr. Scarve," said her ladyship, with a glance of indignation. " Allow me to remind you that I came here on business." *' True," replied the miser, in some confusion. " 1 liesc diamonds are certainly very brilliant, ^our ladyship shall have the sum you require upon them. And we will talk about the other matters at another time." With this, he unlocked the little chest beneath the table, and producing a small tin cash-box, took from it a rouleau of gold- smiths' notes, counted them, and delivered them to her ladyship. Lady Brabazon twisted the notes carelessly between her fingers, and then placed them in her bag; after which she divested her- self of the diamonds, gave them^to the miser, and at the same time, as if to show she M^as not offended with him beyond the possibility of reconciliation, she accorded him her snow-white hand, which he pressed to his lips. This ceremony performed, he ushered her to the street door, where her carriage was wait- ing, and bowed her to its steps. " Mr. Villiers's," said Lady Brabazon to the footman, as he closed the door. " The odious wretch !" she added to herself, " to dare to make such a proposal to me ! However, I have got the money." As the miser returned to the parlour, he rubbed his skinny hands together, and muttered laughingly to himself — " So she affects virtuous indignation, as if I didn't know she only wants the money for her lover, Beau Villiers. But I will try her yet more strongly. She is certainly a fine woman — a very fine Avoman. What do you want, sirrah ?" he added, raising his eyes, and perceiving Jacob standing before him. " Don't you mean to take some steps about this robbery ?*' asked the porter. " What's that to you, rascal ?" rejoined the miser, angrily. "You can watch the stable when the steed's stolen, can you? You shall quit my service in a week." THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 97 " No, I wont," replied Jacob, dorrgedly. " This mornin', I'd have quitted you with pleasure, but now I'm sorry for you. You've been unfortunate, and I wont go." "Curse your pity!" cried the miser. " I wont be plagued with you any longer." " You're not in a fit condition to judge for yourself just now," returned Jacob. " Think it over about discharging me when you're calmer. Fm sorrj^ for you, I tell you — that is, I'm sorry for your loss, though I hope it may soften your ohditrate heart towards your daughter. If you do turn me away, I hope you'll give me a reconmicndation to Mr. Abel Beechcroft. Ah 1 his is a ])lace worth livin' in. It would do you good to see the dinner I sat down to to-day with the servants. There was a cold s'lvlhie of beef, a hot potato-pie, a piece of pickled pork, and as much stronfj ale as I chose to drink." " Peace, sirrah !" cried Scarve. " What satisfa( tion can it be to me to hear how a profuse gentleman wastes his ,^ubstancc on a set of thankless hirelings?" " They're not thankless," rejoined Jacob, *' they all love him, and speak well of him." " And what is their opinion worth?" sneered Scarve. " Full pockets are better than the empty praises of a set of idle, pam- pered menials." " I don't think so," replied Jacob; "and I only wish I was such a pampered menial as Mr. Jukes." " Well, I'll recommend you to Mr. Beechcroft, with all my heart," rejoined Scarve; "and I wish he may take you, fori couldn't do him a greater disservice. You'll soon eat him out of house and home. But come with me to my room." And leading the way up stairs, he pointed to the open window and the empty chest, asking Jacob with a bitter sneer, *' Whether he could make anything of them ?" Jacob gazed curiously at the window for some time without offering a remark, and then proceeded to examine the chamber. All at once, his eye alighted upon a small piece of paper, which he instantly picked up. A few lines were traced upon it in pencil, but before he could ascertain their import, the paper was snatched from him by his master, who read as follows: — "It must be done this morning. The money is in a chest in the •dressing-room, which is accessible from the little garden at the back of the house. You can reach the garden by a small entry opening upon the area in front of the abbey. A rope ladder will do the rest. Alarm no one if you can help it; and, above all, use no violence, whatever may happen. If you are discovered, I will take care no harm befals you." No signature was attached to this mysterious document, neither was it directed. The upper part of it had likewise been torn off. " You had better let me take the letter to Tom Blee the thief- H 9S THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. taker," said Jacob. " He'll make something of it, I'll warrant you." " No," rcj)lic(l the miser, who remained gazing; upon the paper, apparently wrapped in thought; " I shall stir no farther in the matter.'' '•' Well, if I was disposed to turn housebreaker," rejoined Jacob " you're just the person I'd begin business with. I should feel sure of gettin' off easy." The miser raised his eyes, and fixed them stcrnlv on him — " Take care what you sa}^ Jacob,'' he remarked. " Many a man has been hanged for lighter words than you have just uttered." He then pointed to the door, and Jacob withdrew. After remaining by himself nearly an hour, he prepared to go down stairs. As he ]nissed his daughter's chamber, he heard her talking to her aunt, and put his hand into his pocket to see that the key was safe. Repairing to the parlour, he called to Jacob to bring him something to eat. A little cold meat and bread were placed before him by the porter, of which he partook very sparingly, although he had eaten nothing since the morning, and (jiieuched his tiiirst with a glass of water. The eatables removed, he took out his account book, and some other papers, and began to occupy himself with them. Abovit ei^ht o'clock another knock was heard at the door, and Jacob came to tell him Mr. Cordwell Firebras was without, h.aving come by appointment to see him. '•' Admit him," replied the miser. Thus empowered, Jacob departed, and presently afterwards returned with the individual in qiw'stion. " I am punctual, you see, Mr. Scarve," said Firebras, with a smile, as he entered the room. " You are, sir," replied the miser, gravel}'. And while his visitor threw himself into a chair, he got up to ascertain that Tacob descended into the cellar. " And now, Mr. Scarve," said Firebras, " let us proceed at once to business. I conclude you have got the five thousand fDounds for me." The miser shook his head, and proceeded to detail the robbery that had taken place in his house. Firebras heard the narration with a smile of incredulity. " This story may do well for some persons, Mr. Scarve," he said, at its close; "• but I am too old a hand to be duped by it. You had better confess at once, and frankly, that you have changed your mind, and will not advance the money." " i have already explained the cause of n)y inability to do so," rejoined the miser, with stern significance ; " and it must suffice." " Well, sir," cried Firebras, " you have grievously disappointed me, — and you will disappoint others as grievously. You know that if the good cause prospers, you will have a hundred per THE miser's daughter. 99 cent, for your money — and yon profess to wish it well. I m7(st have a thousand pounds to-night," '•' That, I may possibly manage," rejoined Scarve ; " but 1 cannot give it to you in cash. Lady Brabazon has just deposited her jewels with me for that amount." " Oh ! you can lend her ladyship money, though you refuse it to me," returned Firebras, reproachfully. " Your admiration of the fair sex is greater than your devotion to the good cause, I perceive. But I must put up with the jewels, since better may not be." " Here they are," replied Scarve, producing the case. " You must give me a receipt for them." " Willingly," said Firebras, taking up a pen. " 1 shall put them down as a thousand pounds in money." " You must put them down as fifteen hundred," cried the miser, hastily. " I am not to run all this risk for nothing." " Extortioner !" exclaimed Firebras, between his teeth. " How^- ever, it shall be as you will. King James the Third is your debtor for fifteen hundred pounds. There." " How very strange !" ejaculated the miser, with well-feigned surprise, as he took the memorandum. " Your writing is exactly like that of a letter I found in my closet just now, and which was evidently dropped by one of the robbers." " A letter !" exclaimed Firebras, uneasily. " Have you got it ? Let me look at it." The miser produced the scrap of paper, and placed the memo- randum beside it. The handwriting was precisely similar in both cases. "That handwTiting is rather like mine, undoubtedly," said Firebras, with the most perfect composure. " But do you mean to say this paper w^as found in the room where the robbery was. committed ?" " It was found there by Jacob," rejoined the miser. " Shall I call him to add his testimou}' to mine ?" '■' Oh, by no means !" replied Firebras. " Well, Mr. Scarve, as I ma}' be considered the indirect means of your losing this money, I will take care, if the good cause prospers, that the amount is made up to you." "You had better confess at once that you caused it to be taken," said the miser. " You are resolved I shall criminate myself," replied Firebras, laughing — "but I wont do so. I've no doubt, however, your money is in good hands." " Then I am satisfied," rejoined Scarve. " Now, mark me, Mr. Firebras. In the event you have named, I shall expect that fourteen thousand pounds to produce me twenty thousand. Give me a memorandum to that effect. Nay, you can write it at the back of the letter." h2 100 THE MISER'S DAUGHTE i. Firebras smiled, and complied, and Mr. Scarve smiled, too, as he compared the memorandum wiih the writing; on the other side of the paper. And this was all that passed on the subject. CHAPTER XVII. MR. CRIPPS'S ALARMING INTELLIGENCE— KANDULPH's INTRODUCTION TO THE JACOBITS CLUB — SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURT AND FATHER VERSELYN— THE TREASONABLE TOAST^DANGEROUS POSITION OP RANDULPH — HIS FIRMNESS — PUNCTILIOUSNESS OF SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURT. CoRDWELL Firebras, on quitting the Little Sanctuary, bent his steps towards Tothill-street. He was laughing to himself, probably at what had just occurred, when, hearing quick footsteps behind him, he turned, and beheld Mr. Crackeuthorpe Cripps, The valet's looks so much alarmed him, that he instantly stopped, and inquired what was the matter. " Oh, lud ! I'm quite out of breath," gasped Mr. Cripps, putting one hand affectedly to his side, while with the other he held a scented handkerchief to his nose. " Speak, sirrah I and don't keep me in suspense !" cried Fire- bras — "what's the matter, I say?" "Danger — a dungeon— death on the scaftold is the matter," replied Mr. Cripps. "You have betrayed yourself most indis- creetly, Mr. Firebras — you have, 'pon rep !" " In what way?" demanded the other, uneasily. " Your conversation with Mr. Randolph Crew, in the cloisters yonder, has been overheard," returned Mr. Cripps; "yes, you may well start, sir — I repeat, it was overheard by Peter Pokerich, the barber, and his sweetheart, Thoniasine Deacie, the mercer's fair daughter. The little fellow was planning how to make the most of the discovery, when fortunately I chanced to call upon him, and with great ingenuity — though I say it — contrived to throw dust in his eyes, as he has done into those of so many of his customers. Ha ! ha !" " This is awkward," said Firebras, thoughtfully. " Will the barber join us, think you? And if so, can he be trusted?" *'HumI" exclaimed Mr. Cripps, throwing himself into a musing posture ; " that requires consideration. I think I migiit manage him. But I must be paid for the service, Mr. Firebras — well paid, sir." " Unquestionably," returned the other. " Your reward shall always be in proportion to your utility." " Then there's the fair Thomasine," pursued Mr. Cripps. " She must be silenced, too. Egad, I'll make love to her. But I must be paid for that likewise." THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 101 " Surely the lady will be reward enough," laughed Firebras. _ " On the contrary, I shall have her on my hands," replied Mr. Cripps. " But I wont demand, more than my due, sir, — 'pon rep ! Allow me to offer you a pinch of snuff. I shall now go back to the barber, and, when matters are settled, you may expect me at the Rose and Crown." And raising his hat, and making a profound bow, he strutted off. Ruminating on the intelligence he had received, Cordwell Firebras proceeded to Petty France, where he struck off on the right into Gardiner's-street, and entered the Rose and Crown. Nodding familiarly to the landlord, who came from the bar to greet him, he marched on towards a back room, where Randulph was seated. *' I am sorry to have quitted you so long, my dear young^ friend," he said; "but I have been detained by Mr. Scarve." " Have you seen Hilda?" asked the young man. "No," replied Firebras; " but 1 intimated to her father that I had a good match in view for her ; and that I should speak to him on the subject to-morrow." Further conversation was interrupted by the landlord, who ushered in Sir Bulkeley Price. Tlie Welsh baronet hurried for- ward, holding out both his hands towards Firebras: but he started, and looked exceedingly surprised on beholding Randulph. " I need not present my young friend, Mr. Randulph Crew, ,toyou, Sir Bulkeley," said Firebras; " for I believe — nay, indeed, I know — you are already acquainted with him." " I have passed a great part of the morning with Mr. Crew," said Sir Bulkeley, bowing; "but I was not aware he belonged to our party. I am extremely glad to find it so." Before Randulph could reply, the door again opened, and a gaunt, tall personage entered the room, who was annoimced by the host as Sir Norfolk Salusbury. Nevei* had Randulph seen so extraordinary a figure as that now presented to his gaze. Sir Norfolk was more than six feet high, with a very meagre, but withal muscular-looking frame, and large, prominent featvn-cs. He held himself so exceedingly erect, that he seemed in imminent danger of falling; backwards. He was dressed in a cinnamon- coloured coat of rather antiquated fashion, a scarlet waistcoat edged with gold, black velvet breeches, and white silk hose. He had large lace ruffles at his wrists, and a flowing lace frill at his breast. His well-powdered peruke was terminated by a long^ thick queue, which, by its perpendicular descent, showed how much the small of his back was taken in. His features were rather harsh, and rigid as if carved in mahogany, nor did they seem capable of being unbent by a smile. His eyes were gi'ay and cat-like, and surmounted by black bushy brows. But it was not so much his dress, his features, or his figure, that attracted atteniion, as his extraordinarily formal deportment. No Spanish 102 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. hidalgo ever moved with greater solemnity and dignity. His limbs creaked like rusty hinges, and there was something in his whole air and manner that irresistibly reminded Randulph of Don Quixote. " Welcome, Sir Norfolk," exclaimed Cordwell Firebras, ad- vancing towards him ; " allow me to present my young friend, Mr. Randulph Crew, to you." "I am happy in the acquaintance of the representative of so ancient a name," returned Sir Norfolk, bowing stiffly. " Euin cognoscerc gaudeo. Sir Bulkeley Price, I salute you. It did not enter into my expectations to meet you. I conceived you were still montivagous and eremetical in the principality." " 1 arrived yesterday. Sir Norfolk," said Sir Bulkeley, advanc- ing towards him, and shaking him by the hand. " How long have you been in town?" "My sojourn in the capital hath not as yet exceeded the septimanal limit," replied Sir Norfolk. " In plain English, you have not been here more than a week," laughed Sir Bulkeley. " But I am as much surprised to see you as you can be to see me." " My advent was inopinate and I'cpent, Sir Bulkeley," re- joined Sir Norfolk. "Affairs of state drew me hither." Again the door opened, and two grave-looking personages, announced as Father Verselyn and Mr. Travers, were ushered in. Father Verselyn, the foremost of these, was a tall, thin, middle- aged man, with a dark complexion, and a sinister and perfidious expression of countenance. He was habited like a layman, — indeed, it would not have been safe, from the laws then in force against Romish priests, to appear in any other dress, — in a sober- coloured suit, a full-bottomed black wig, which he wore without powder, and spectacles. jNIr. Travers was a short, square-built, broad-faced person, and had a searching, severe look. He was likewise very plainly attired, but had nevertheless the appearance of a person of condition. Courteous greetings were interchanged by the new comers and the others ; and Randulph was secretly entertained by the for- mality with which Sir Norfolk returned their salutations. He was, in turn, introduced to the strangers; but could scarcely repress the dislike with which Father Verselyn inspired him. The party then broke up into little groups, and much whispered conversation ensued, in which Randulph took no part. In about a quarter of an hour, the landlord entered the room, and, bowing to the company, said, " I believe, gentlemen, you are all as- sembled; the room up stairs is ready, if you are tlisposed to adjourn to it." The proposition being assented to, the landlord threw open the door, and a slight contest occurred between the two baronets as to which should offer the other precedence. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 103 " I pra?, Sir Bnlkeley," said Sir Norfolk ; " I will scale the staircase utter you." Thus exhorted^ Sir Bnlkeley, who thought it good breeding not to dispute a point of needless ceremony, went on. Sir Nor- folk marched after him with majestic steps, and the rest of the party followed. The landlord ushered them into a large room, lighted by a chandelier suspended from the ceiling, in the centre of which was a circular tabic covered with bottles and glasses. Having hung up their hats against the wall, the com{)any sat down, and a few bumpers went briskly round. While they were thus carousing, a tap was heard at the door, and the landlord, opening a reconnoitring hole within it, spoke to some one with- out. He next proceeded to convey the information he had received, in a low tone, to Cordwell Firebras, who immediatel3'- said aloud, '•' Oh, yes, admit him by all means. Gentlemen, a new brother !" The door was then opened, and llandulph recognised in the gaily-attired, self-possessed coxcomb who was admitted, Mr. Crackenthorpe Cripps. " Take a glass of wine, Mr. Cripps," said Firebras, filling a bumper, and handing it to the new comer. " It is Beau Villiers's chief valet," he added, in an undertone, to Sir Norfolk, who had made a polite though formal bow to the stranger. "What!" exclaimed Sir Norfolk, almost shuddering at the inadvertence he had committed; "a waiting-man in such costly and nitid attire. Why, his master, the Pretonius Arbiter of the day, can scarcely be more studiously refined in the taste and style of the vestments wherewith he adorneth his person." " Not a whit so," laughed Firebras ; " the only difference between them is, that Beau Cripps wears In May the coat which Beau Villiers has worn in April." "3Iehercle!" exclaimed Sir Norfolk. "Such prodigality almost exceedeth belief." " Landlord, it is time !" cried Father Verselyn, who performed the part of chairman, and occupied the principal seat. " I am ready, your reverence," replied the landlord. And he forthwith proceeded to a cupboard, from which he produced a large china bowl, apparently filled with punch, and placed it with great care and solemnity in the centre of the table. " Why, it is water," exclaimed Randulph, gazing at the clear lymph, with which, on nearer inspection, he perceived the bov/l was filled. " To be sure !" cried Firebras ; " and we are about to drink the king's health — over tlie water And now, gentlemen,''' be con- tinued, filling Randulph's glass and his own, " fill, I pray you, to the brim." " I have filled, even to the summit of the vase," said Sir Norfolk, rising and holding up his glass. lot THE ]miser's daughter. '• And I," cried Sir Biilkcley, likewise rising. '•'And I," added the landlord, who stood nsxt to the last- named baronet, and was aUowed to join in the ceremony. '•' And I — and I,'' chimed Mr. Travers and the valet. " Then give the word, my son," said Verselyn, addressing Firebras. " With the greatest pleasure, father," replied Cordwell. And he held his glass over the bowl, while his example was iiiiitated by all the otliers except Randulph. " Here is the king's health 'over the water,' Why don't you do as we do?" he added, turning to Randulph. " Ay, stretch forth your arm over the scyphus, young gentle- man," cried Sir Norfolk, pointing to the bowl. " You viiist drink the toast — it's the rule of the club," added Sir Bulkele}'. "It is a rule I cannot subscribe to," replied Randulph. "How! — am I mistaken in you, young man?" said Firebras, regarding him menacingly. " Do as they bid you, or you'll have 3'our throat cut, 'pen rep !" whispered Mr. Cripps, popping his head over Firebras's shoulder. "Will you drink the toast, or not:" demanded Firebras, fiercely'. " I will not !"' replied Randulph, firmly. " It is treasonable, and I refuse it." Randnlph's bold declaration had well nigh cost him dear. Cries of " spy !" "traitor!" " Hr.Hoverian !" "down with him!" resounded on all sides; the iandloid rushed to the door, and placed his back atrainst it, to prevent any attempt at egress in that way ; while Sir Norfolk Salusbur3', plucking his long blade from its sheath, and making it whistle over his head, kicked a chair that stood between him and the young man out of the way, and bade him, in a stern tone, defend himself. The confusion was increased by the vociferations of Mr. Cripps, and by an acci- dent caused by Sir Bulkcley Price, who, in hurrying round tho' table, contrived to entangle himself in the cover, and dragging it off, precipitated the bottles and glasses to the ground, drenching the lower limbs of his brother baronet in the contents of the fractured bowl. The only two persons apparently unmoved iu the midst of this uproar were its author and Cordwell Firebras. The latter made no hostile display, and did not even alter his position, but kept his eye steadily fixed upon Randulph, as if anxious to observe the effect of the incident upon him. Ti)o 3'oung man maintained his firmness throughout. He retreated a few steps towards the wall, and put himself in a posture of defence. The nearest of his antagonists was Sir Norfolk Salns- bury ; but seeing the others press forward, the chivalrous Welsh baronet declined commencin in^ Kings liealtli 'nver tJiPirater! THE miser's daughter. 105 *' Siiigiilatiin ! — one at a timr, Mr. Travel?," he cried. " Ne Hercules contra duos. It shall never be said that any man,, however unworthy of fair treatment, fouLiht against odds in the presence of a descendant of Adam de Salzburg;. Stand aside,. therefore, sir, — and you, Father Vcrselyn, — and leave him to- me, or I nmst relinquish the right of combat, which I have ia some measure acquired, as being the first to claim it, to 3'ou." *'Let the young n)an swear to keep silence touching all he. has seen and heard, or he shall not quit this room alive," rejoined Travers. "Trust him not — trust him not!" cried Father Verselyn ; "his- oath will not bind him. Fall upon him altogether, and slay him ! That is the only way to insure his silence and our safety. I will absolve you of his blood. The imminence of the danger justifies the deed." " Proh pudor !" cried Sir Norfolk, sterni3% " That would b& trucldation dedecorous and ignave ; neither can I stand by and see it done." "Nor I," cried Sir Bulkeley, who had by this time recovered from the embarrassment occasioned b}' the accident. *' I disap- prove of Father Verselyn's counsel entirely. Let us hear what the young man has to say. I will C[uestion him." " H;iudquaquam, Sir Bulkeley," replied the other, gravely^ *'I gave you ])recedcnce on a recent occasion, but I cannot do so on the present. I claim this young man as my own, — to interrogate, to fight, and, perchance, to slay him." "Fight him as much as you please. Sir Norfolk, and slay hin> if you think proper, — or can," rejoined Sir Bulkeley, angrily;, "but you shall not prevent my spcakino; to him." " Sir Bulkeley Price," returned Sir Norfolk, raising his crane neck to its utmost height, "I [)ray you not to interfere betweeni me and Mr. Crew, otherwise — " " Well, Sir Norfolk, and what then?" cried tlie other, his hot Welsh blood mounting to his cheeks, and empurpling them more deeply than usual. "What then. Sir Norfolk?" " I shall be compelled to make you render me reason for it,'*" replied the other, sternly. Cordwell Firebras now thought it time to interfere. " Gentlemen," he said, advancing towards them, " we havo plenty of other quarrels to settle without disputing among our- selves. I brought Mr. Randtilph Crew here, and will be respon- sible for his silence." "What saith the young man?" demanded Sir Norfolk. "If he will oppiiinerate his word for taciturnity, I will take it." "So will I," added Sir Bulkeley. "I ihank you for your good opinion of me, gentlemen," re- turned Ilandulph. " I have been, almost unwittingly, a j)arty to i'our counsels, and ought perhaps to have declared my senti- 106 THE IMISERS DAUGHTER. iiicnts pooncr; but I hoped the nieetinj:; would pass off without rcnderhig any such avowal necessary, in which case, ihouu;h I certainly should never have joined your club again, the secret of Us existence would have rested in niy own bosom, — as it will now if I am suffered to depart. I could not avoid exjjressiug my disapproval of a toast, which in common with cverv loval sul)jcct of King Ge(>rh Crew." " So far from that being the case," said Abel, " I would as *oon consent to her union with yourself as with him." " Hum !" exclaimed the attorney. " Don't alarm yourself on that score, nephew," said the miser. ■*' Make good your own case, and Hilda is yours. But come THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 125 »^'hat inJiy, dcjicnd upon it, she shall never be the wife of Ran- diil})h Crew with my consent, or with a farthing of mine." " Or of mine," subjoined Abel. As tliese words were uttered, the side door opened, and Hilda entered, followed by Mrs. Chnton. " Ah !" exclaimed the miser, darting an angry look at her^ "What do 3'ou want here? — who let you out of your room ?" "Jacob unlocked the door, and informed me that Mr. Beech- croft was below," she replied ; " and I therefore came down to see him." *' I trust I have opened your father's eyes to the trick attempted to be practised upon him," said Abel. " He has promised not to proceed in the matter till a satisfactory explanation is given him respecting your cousin's affairs. And as I know that can never be done, the match is virtually at an end." "If it were not so," replied Hilda, "it would make no differ- ence with me ; for I here declare before you, that even if my cousin should prove to be what he represents himself, I will never wed him." " After such a declaration, young man, is it possible you can desire to prosecute the match ?" "Is my cousin in earnest?" asked Philip, eagerly catching at the opportunity of escaping from the dilemma in which he found himself placed. "You could scarcely doubt it." she replied. "But if you require a reiterated assurance, take it." "Then, sir, if Hilda retains these opinions," said Philip, to hi& uncle, "' there is an end of the affair." "How so?" cried the miser. "You have my concurrence. Hilda will not dare to disobey me — to brave my displeasure." "I will not take her on those terms," replied Philip. "I will have her by her own free consent, or not at all." "Ah! you are more scrupulous than you were yesterday," observed the miser, suspiciously. " You shrink from your bar- gain. There is some truth in what Mr. Beechcroft has stated." "Take care, sir," observed Mr. Diggs to Philip. •' Your mo- tives will be misconstrued." " I care not," replied Philip. " I should be worse than Mr. Beechcroft represents me, to pursue a match, when the lady expresses so decided an opinion against it. I therefore beg to resign all pretensions to her hand." " Nephew !" exclaimed the miser, in surprise. " I am grateful for the good opinion you have entertained of me, uncle," pursued Philip ; " and though I thus deprive myself of all chance of becoming your son-in-law, I will take care that you are fully satisfied of my title to that honour. Mr. Diggs shall wait upon you with the deeds." " Y'ou are hasty, Philip — " 126 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " Not SO, iiiicle. I wish j'oii good morning.*' And he was about to depart, when the door was again opened by Jacob, admitting Cordwell Firebras and Randnlph. It would be difficuh to say whether the new comers, or those to whom they were introduced, were the most surprised at the meeting. Amid the confusion, however, llandulph contrived to approach Hilda. "I fear," he said, — "indeed, I know I must have lowered myself in yom- opinion by my conduct yesterday. But, though it may be no exculpation, permit me to state that the situation in which you perceived me was the result of accident." " No apologies are necessary' to me, sir !" said Hilda, haughtily and distantly. "It cannot be other than matter of indifference to n)e who are your associates." "Yet hear n)y explanation," pursued the young man. " The lady you saw me with was conunitted to my care b}' — as I live, by the very person who stands there, except that he was dif- ferently dressed at the time." " I never saw you befoi'c, sir," said Philip — " never !" " I am satisfied you are the person," cried Randnlph — " I would swear to your voice " " After this, sir, can you longer question the cheat attempted to be ])layed upon you ?" said Abel, to the miser. "If he does doubt it," said Firebras, " I will open his eyes." " It is plain I am tricked by some of you, and trifled with by all!" cried the miser, angrilv. "I would mv house were rid of jou!" "You shall be rid of me, at alj events, uncle," said Phihp, eager to escape. " Again I wish you good morning. Come, sir," he added, to the attorney. And they left the house together. " I am glad he is gone," sai\l Firebras. " Mr. Scarve, I have the ])leasure to tell you your nephew is a consummate rascal, and it is well you arc rid of him. Mr. Abel Bcechcroft, I did not expect to meet you here, but your presence is singularly opportune." "For what, sir?" demanded Abel, coldly. " Why, to come to some arrangement respecting a matter in which the happiness of your nephew is materially concerned," replied Firebras. "I liope, sir, if these young people," pointing to Randnlph and Hilda, "can understand each other, you will throw no obstacle in the way. And you, friend Scarve," he added, turning to the miser, "I counsel you to place this young man in the position of your nephew. He Avill make her a far better husband, and — " he whispered a few words in the miser's ear. " The condition, I ])resume, which you annex to the union is, that my nephew should join the Jacobite cause, Mr. Firebras," demanded Abel. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 127 Firebras made no reply. "Is it not so, Randulph?" pursued Abel, sternly. " Uncle," replied Randulph, rushing towards him, and flinging nimself on his knee before him, "1 love Hilda, passionately, and would sacrifice my life lor her !" " But not, I hope, your honour," replied Abel, coldly. " Re- collect to whom you owe allegiance. Maintain your loyalty unsullied, or I discard you." "Be not too hasty, sir," cried Randulph; "more than my life hangs on your breath !" " Randulph Crew," said the miser, " I have suffered things to proceed thus far without interruption, because I have been taken by surprise ; but no importunities of yours, your uncle's, or Mr. Firebras's, shall prevail upon me to consent to your union with my daughter; and I positively interdict you from seeing her again." " And I lay the same injunction upon him," said Abel. " Hilda !" exclaimed the young man, looking at her — " Hilda !" But she averted her gaze. " Come with me, Randulph !" cried Abel, authoritatively, and moving towards the door. And, heaving a deep sigh, Randulph followed his uncle out of the room. " Hilda," said Cordwell Firebras, as soon as they were left alone—" you have lost a true lover — you, Mr. Scarve, have lost a good son-in-law — and I and the Jacobite cause have lost an excellent partisan." L1\D OF TilE FIRST BOOE. BOOK THE SECOND. TRUSSELL BEECHCROFT. CHAPTER I. TRUSSELL's appearance after his debauch — HE PROCEEDS WITH RAXDULPH TO LADY BRABAZON'S — THE PARTY GO TO MARYLEBONE GARDENS. Neither Randulph nor his uncle felt disposed for conversation durinjT their walk to Lambeth, whither they proceeded on quittinjr the miser's habitation : and, in fact, Abel thought it desirable to let the events that had just occurred work their own effect on his nephew's mind, without any assistance from him. Half an hour saw them home, and Mr. Jukes looked from one to the other as if anxious to learn what had happened ; but he received no information. They found Trussell m the breakfast-room, re- clining in an easy chair, sipping a cup of cold green tea to tranquillize his nerves, and reading the fashionable movements and intelligence in a morning paper, by the aid of a pair of spectacles, which he hastily took off on hearing their approach. He had on a loose brocade dressing-gown, a crimson silk night- cap, slippers down at heel, and ungartered hose hanging loosely about his legs. Altogether he had a very rakish and dissolute appearance. His eyes were red and inflamed, and his face fhished with the previous night's debauch. An open note lay licside him on the table sealed with a coronet. He looked up with an air of fashionable languor as his brother and nephew entered the room, and asked yawningly, where they had been, but receiving no answ^er, jumped up, and repeated the inquiry with real interest. "Don't ask, brother," replied Abel, significantly — "Let it suffice that all is now right.'* " I am glad to hear it," replied Trussell, " though I don't know w!;at has been wrong. Tve just received a note from Lady ]^i abazon, Randulph, inviting us to accompany her to Marylebone (iardens this afternoon. You know we are engaged to dine with 8ir Bulkeley Price.' " Go to Marylebone, by all means," said Uncle Abel, kindly — " it will serve to distract your thoughts." " I ventured to answer for you, Randulph," pursued Trussell,. " because there is a fete there to-day, and you are sure to be much amused. You'il find Marylebone very different from the Folly —ha I ha!" THE miser's daughter. 129 " Only folly under a different name and in a richer pjarb — that's all," laughed Abel. " I'll now go and dress," said Trussell. " Lady Brab has sent lis a subscription ticket," he added, pointing to a silver medal, about the size of a modern ivorj Opera ticket, or " bone,' stamped with designs in bold bas-relief, numbered, and inscribed *' Marybone — AD3HT TWO," with the date, 1744. Abel took np the ticket, glanced at it, and laid it down with a smile. Randulpli made an excuse for retiring to his own room, and on reaching it threw himself into a chair to indulge his reflec- tions. And bitter and crushing they were. Till within the last hour, when he fully believed he had lost her for ever, he had not known the extent of his passion for Hilda. Now he felt — as all who have loved deeply have felt on some such occasion — that his existence had become a blank to him — and that he should never be entirely happy again. Again and again he reproached himself for his folly in respect of Kitty Conway; and he almost resolved, like Uncle Abel, to forswear a sex that occasioned him so much torment. A tap at the door aroused him from his meditations, and Mr. Jukes entering, informed him that his uncle Trussell was ready, and waiting for him. Randulph said he would be down in a moment ; and making some slight change in his attire, which he scarcely thought suitable to the gay scene he was about to join, descended, and found his uncle in the hall fully equipped in a snuff-coloured velvet coat, laced ruffles, diamond buckles, a well- powdered bag-wig, and a silver-hiked sword. Trussell appeared rather impatient, and declared they were behind time : and he proceeded at a rapid pace to the stairs near Lambeth Palace, where he called a boat, directing the waterman to row as quickly as he could to Whitehall Stairs — the nearest point to Pall Mall, where Lady'Brabazon resided. As soon as they were gone, Abel summoned Mr. Jukes, and having partaken of a biscuit and a glass of wine, ordered the butler to prepare to attend him to Marylebone Gardens. Mr. Jukes, who was well enough pleased by the proposed expedition, made as little dela}' as was consistent with his dignity ; and having ■delivered full instructions to the under-servant respecting dinner, presented himself in a well-powdered bob- major wig, a well brushed brown coat, white waistcoat, and black velvets; and what with his round, rosy face, his swag paunch, and shapeless legs, looked the model of a well-considered, well-fed, and most respectable servant. Attended by the butler, Abel proceeded to Lambeth Stairs, where, as luck would have it, the ferry boat chanced to be crossing at that moment. Accordingly they got into it, and in a few minutes were transported together with a crowd of passengers of both fiexes, and no less than six horses, in safety to the opposite side K ]S0 THE MISER*S DAUGHTER. of the river. At the corner of Abingdon-slreet, they found a coach which Abel instantly enpi;aged, and got into it, while Mr. Jukes with some difficulty clambered up to the box. They then drove along the Ilorseferry Road ; passed at the back of Buck- ingham House, and proceeded along Hyde Park-lane to their destination. Meanwhile, Trussoll and Randulph, having arrived at Lady Brabazon's, were ushered into a magnificentl3/-furnished drawing- room, where they found Beau Villicrs, Sir Singleton S[)inke, Clementina, and her ladyship: by the latter of whom they were very graciously received. Lad}' Brabazon instantly perceived Randulph's dejection, and exerting all her powers of wit and rail- lery soon raised iiis spirits. Whenever Lady Brabazon, indeed — mature coquette as she was — was determined to please, she seldom failed in accomplishing her purpose ; and she directed her artillery with such tact and skill on the present occasion, that Randulph, armed as he conceived himself against such attacks, was not quite proof against her. It was quite evident, whether her feelings were interested or not in the conquest, that she was determined to captivate the young man. This was so ap})arcnt, that a slight feeling of jealousy was roused in the breast of the beau, anv." " La ! Mr. Willars, what's the meaning of all this ?" asked Mrs. Netdeship. " 'Pon my soul, my angel, I don't know, unless the old hunks has been drinking," replied Mr. Cripps. " The 'rack punch has evidently got into his head, and made him mistake one person for another." " 'Rack punch !" cried Mr. Jukes, furiously. " I haven't tasted a drop! You call him Mr. Willars, ma'am," he added, to Mrs. Nettleship — " He's deceiving you, ma'am. He's not Mr. Willars — he's Mr. Willars's gentleman — his valot." " A truce to this folly, you superannuated old dolt !" cried Mr. Cripps, raising his cane, "or I'll chastise you." " Chastise me !" exclaimed the butler, angrily. " Touch me, if you dare, rascal! Crackcnthorpe, Crackenthorpc — you'll cer- tainly be hanged." " Let him alone. Jukes," interposed Abel. " He'll meet his master at the corner of the walk, and I should like to sec how he'll carry it off." Taking advantage of the interference, Mr. Cripps passed on with his inamorata, who was as anxious to escape from the scene as himself; while Abel and Mr. Jukes ibllowed them at a short distance. It fell out as Abel had foreseen. As Mr. Cripps issued into the broad walk, right before liTm, and not many yards off', were his master and Lady Brabazon, together with the rest of the part}'. If the valet ever had need of assurance, it was now. But though ready to sink into the earth, he was true to himself, and exhibited no outward signs of discomi)Osnre. On the con- trary, he drew forth his snuff"-box, took a pinch, in l)is airiest manner, and said to Mrs. Nettleshij) — " There's Lady Brabazon — accounted one of the finest women of the day, but, upon my soul, she's not to be compared with you." With this he made a profound salutation to Lady Brabazon, ■who looked petrified with astonishment, and kissed his hand to Trussell, who was ready to die with laughing. As to the bean, he grasped his cane in a manner that plainly betokened his intention of laying it across his valet's shoulders. But the latter, divining his intention, and seeing that nothing but a bohl manoeuvre could now save him, strutted up to him, and said in a loud voice — " Ah ! my dear fellow — how d'ye do?— glad to see YOU — plenty of company" — adding in a lower tone, — " For "Heaven's sake, sir, don't mar my fortune. I'm about to be mar- ried to that lady, sir — large fortune, sir — to-day will decide it — ^*pon rep I" THE miser's DAUr.riTER. JZ'J Mr. Villiers regarded him in astonishment, mixed with some little admiration; and at length his good natine got the better of his anq;er. " Well, get you gone instantly," he said ; " if I find you in the gardens in ten minutes from this time, you shall have the caning you merit." " Good day, sir," replied Mr. Cripps, — " I'll not forget the favour." And with a profound bow, he moved away with the widow. " And so you have let him off?" cried Lady Brabazon, ia amazement, *' Upon my soul, I couldn't help it," replied the beau. " I've a fellow-feeling for the rascal — and, egad, all things considered, he has played his part so uncommonly well, that 1 hope he may be successful." CHAPTER III. ▲ MAN-OF-THE-WORLD'S advice ox a matter of the heart — THE VISIT TO THE HAYITARKET THEATRE, AND THE SUPPER AFTERWARDS WITH KITTY CONWAT — RAXDULPH ACAIX AWKWARDLY CIRCUMSTANCED WITH HILDA. On the morning succeeding the visit to Marylebone Gardens, commemorated in the preceding chapter, as Trusscll and Ran- dulph sat together after breakfast, the latter communicated to his uncle all that had occurred at the miser's the day before, and besought him to give him a hope of obtaining Hilda's hand. "■ I wish I could do so, Randulph," replied Trussell, who hau questioned him particularly as to the lady's deportment and manner during the interview; "but I don't see how it is possible. Were it an ordinary case, I should say, Go on — make the attempt. Difficulties, especially in love matters, are always to be overcome by perseverance. But it is not so here. In the first place, you have forfeited the lady's esteem, and though that might be set to rights, if you had an opportunity for full explanation, yet, as affairs now stand, it is awkward. Then — what is far more im- portant — her father and my brother are averse to the match; and though it wouldn't signify displeasing one of them, it wont do to offer! d both." Randulph sighed deeply. " If, from an over-nice sense of honour, which, though I ap- plaud, I can scarcely understand," pursued Trussell, "you had not given your property to your father's creditors, you might have had Hilda for asking." " Were the choice still left me, I would act as I have done." replied Randulph, emphatically. " I was bound to clear my father's memory." 140 THE miser's daughter. " Nay, I am far from meaning to upbraid yon,*' replied Trns- sell. " I think your conduct singularly honourable and dis- interested, and not the less so because it has been attended with the present result. But in regard to this union, upon which you seem to have set your heart, and about which you have consulted me, I cannot seriously recommend you to indulge the thought of it for a moment. The two old gentlemen, who have the reins in their hands, set their faces against it so entirely, that, even if the lady's consent could be obtained, it would be the height of folly to proceed with it. You would only wed to beggary; and for Hilda's sake, as well as your own, that must never be." " You are right !" cried Randulph, rising, and taking a turn round the room. " Is there no way of acquiring wealth expe- ditiously?" *' None that I am aware of," replied Trusscll ; " unless you choose to have recourse to the gaming-table, or the highway. You ma}', if you please, turn Jacobite, and obtain a commission from King James the Third, Such things, I hear, are now daily given away ; and if he should come to the throne, your fortune will be made." Randulph started; for this chance remark brought to his mind Cordwell Firebras's proposal, with which his uncle was wholly unacquainted. A means of obtaining Hilda's hand through the influence of this person presented itself to him. But he rejected the idea as soon as conceived. " Jesting apart, nephew," said Trusscll, who had noticed his confusion, but attributed it to a different cause, *' you must give up all idea of Hilda. She is a charming girl, no doubt ; but she is not the only charming girl in the world ; and you must fall in love with some one else as quickly as you can. It seems impossible at present, I make no doubt. But don't despair. You'll get over your disappointment in time. Why not begin with Lady Brabazon? She has given you plenty of encourage- ment; and is just the woman to initiate you into the ways of the world. It would be quite worth your while to devote yourself to her for a season; and by this means you will gain a reputation for gallantry, which is very desirable for a young man." "I have no such ambition, uncle," replied Randulph. "Lady Brabazon is extremely fascinating, but uiy heart is otherwise engaged." "Pshaw I" exclaimed Trusscll, "we don't live in the days of chivalry and eternal constancy. Men are no longer the preux chevaliers they used to be. Women like us all the better for a little infidelity. They fancy us better worth having when others are running after us. One success leads to another. Nourish, if you please, a secret passion for Hilda, but amuse yourself as you think proper, in the meantime. If it answers no other pur- pose, it will prevent you from doing something desperate. By- THE miser's datghter. hi the-by, it just occurs to me that we are to meet your lad> love at the drum to night. Now let me advise yo'i how to act." Before the counsel could be given, Mr. Jukes entered the room, and delivering him a little perfumed billet, on a silver waiter, departed. "From Lady Brab herself, I declare I" cried Trussell, glan- cing at the superscription, and breaking open the note. " Egad I here's a disappointment. Old Scarve wont allow his daughter to attend her ladyship's drum to-night if we go there ; and so, she prays us to dine with her to-morrow instead." "And thus I shall miss my only chance of seeing Hilda, while she will be exposed to the assiduities of that daring impertinent. Beau Villiers !" cried Randulph. ' Very true !" said Trussell, gravely. *I wont receive the back-word," said Randulph. " I'll go ia gpite of her ladyship." "Poh! poh ! you mustn't think of such a thing," rejoined Trussell. " It would be an unheard of impropriety ; and you would only expose yourself to insult. It's devilish unlucky, but it can't be helped. I've pointed out to you the remedy for the evil : forget Hilda, and replace her image with that of Lady Brabazon. If the beau robs you of your mistress, you can soon be even with him. Ha ! ha ! And now, siuce the plans of the day are so entirely changed, suppose we go into the city, and see some of the sights there, and afterwards dine at a coffee-house. Who knows but we may meet with some adventure that may completely divert the current of your thoughts." Whatever Randulph might think of the probability of his uncle's notion being realised, he acquiesced in the suggestion, ^and not long after this, they sallied forth, and taking a boat at the Palace Stairs, rowed to the Tower, near which they were landed. Conversant with every object of interest in the old fortress, Trussell proved an excellent guide to his nephew, and they spent some hours in examining its various fortifications, and in talking over its historical recollections, as well as in visiting its armouries and its lions, and such matters as were then, and much more recently, exhibited to the public. From the Tower they proceeded to the Royal Exchange, where they likewise spent some time. As the day had begun to draw in, Trussell proposed an ad- journment to Kivat's coffee-house, where, he averred, they were sure of a good dinner and excellent wine. Randulph assented, and to Kivat's they repaired. Trussell's assertion was found to be well warranted; the dinner was capital, and the claret so good that, in spite of his nephew's remonstrances, he called for a second bottle. Randulph had already drunk more than he was accustomed to, but he could not res.ist the bumpers pressed upon him by his jovial uncle, who assured him that the best way 142 THE miser's daughter. ot" fjettinp; rid of care was to drown it in the iilass. A third bottle was called for and disposed of; and TnisscU then ordered a coach, and privately instructed tlie driver to take them to the httle theatre in the Haymarket. On arriving; there, they were shown, by Trussell's desire, into a box near the stage, and as they entered it, the house was ringing with the applauses bestowed on a song which had just been executed by a female singer. The reiterated cries of encore were at length complied with by the fair object of them, v.'ho, advancing from the wings, whither she had retired, disclosed the figure and features of Kitty Conway. She repeated the song with infinite archness and spirit, and Randulph, like the rest of the house, was in raptures with her. He applauded vehementl}', and as Kitty gracefull}' courtseyed in return for the plaudits, she recognised him, and during the rest of the performance, scarcely ever removed her eye from him. In spite of his efforts to avoid it, Randulph could not be insensible to the witchery of her glance; neither was he blind to the perfect symmetry of her exquisite little figure, displayed to the greatest advantage in a pretty peasant dress, or her airy movements, nor deaf to her joyous laugh that rung like silver upon his ears. He was, there- fore, almost glad when the curtain fell, and hid her from his view. Trussell, who had noted with secret satisfaction the effect produced by the pretty actress upon his nephew, and who had, perhaps not undesignedly, placed him so near her, now launched into a rapturous panegyric of her charms and talent, declaring both to be unapproachable; and while Randulph was assenting to all he heard, an orange woman entered the box, as was then the custom, and while affecting to offer her basket of fruit to the elder gentleman, slipped a note into the hands of the younger. She then withdrew, and Randulph, opening the billet, found, as he anticipated, that it came from Kitty Conway, and contained an invitation to him to sup with her after the play. " You will go, of course ?" said Trussell, as his nephew showed him the note. Randulph looked perplexed. " What ! afraid of a pretty woman I" laughed Trussell. " I had a better opinion of you. I'll take care of you. Let me sec where she lives. Oh, close by — at the corner of the Haymarket, next to Cockspur-street. By-the-by, the note is not directed. She doesn't know your name. Ha! ha!" '• Well, I suppose I must go," said Randulph. " To be sure you must," laughed Trussell. '' You'll forfeit all claim to be considered a youth of spirit if you don't." The entertainments of the evening were concluded by the ♦'Mock Doctor," in which Kitty Conway did not appear; and ih'is over, they quitted the house, and repaired to the abode of THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 145 the pretty actress. A footman in rich livery admitted thcin, and ushered them into a small but exquisitely-furnished apart- ment, blazing with wax-lights and mirrors, where thev Ibund Kitty seated on a couch, conversing with an old gentleman, who, as he looked up at their entrance, proved to be Sir Sino-Jeton Spinke. An elderly female, probably the fair actress's mother, was likewise present. The old beau seemed a little disconcerted on their appearance, but he instantly recovered hnnself. As to Kitty Conway, she sprang from the couch, and running towards Randulph, stretched out both hands to him with unfeigned joy, crying — *' Oh ! how very glad I am to see you ! how kind in you to come ! I had almost given you up. And now you must introduce yourself to me in due form ; for though I wrote to you, vou may have perceived I didn't know how to address my billet.'" '•' Permit me to have that honour, sweet Kitty," said Sir Sin- gleton, stepping forward, "for both are particular friends of mine. I was not aware they were comiufr, or I would have taken care to apprise you of their names. This is Mr. Randulpli Crew, newly arrived from Cheshire, and with all the freshness— in every sense — of the country about him. And this is his unrlc, Mr. TrusscU Becchcroft." "And his guardian also, I presume," laughed Kitty; "for it appears he wont let him stir without him." " I ought to apologise for this intrusion, Mrs. Conway," said Trussell, " and I can only excuse myself on the ground of my excessive desire to make your acquaintance." " You are Mr. Crew's uncle, sir — that is enough for me," replied Kitty. " I am delighted to see you." ^ Trussell bowed, and placed his hand upon his heart — a gesture peculiar to people who have very little heart to be so indicated. " You have got the start of us. Sir Singleton," he said. " When we had the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Conway at the Folly on the Thames, the other day, I fancied 3'ou were unknown to her." " Our acquaintance is only of two days' date," said Kitty. " Sir Singleton was good enough to send rac " " Hush ! hush I sweet Kitty, I implore 3'ou," interrupted the old beau. " Nay, I haven't been enjoined to secresy," she rejoined. " Hs sent me a suit of diamonds worth five hundred pounds, entreating a moment's interview in rctui'n, which, of course, 1 could not refuse." " Of course not," laughed Trussell. '• Do you hear that, Ran- dulph?" he whispered to his nephew. '• Ah, you're a lucky dog ! No diamonds necessary in your case, you see." At this moment, the servant entered the room, and announced supper. Kitty gave her arm to. Kandulph, and the old beau and 141 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. Trnssell contended foi" the elderly lady, \vho at length fell to the charge of the former. iMeanwhile, the pretty actress led her most favoured guest to the adjoining chamber, the walls of which were adorned with several choice paintings, most of them relating to theatrical sub- jects. Over the firej)lace hung a ])ortrait of Kitty lierself in one of her favourite characters, and Randulph commented upon ii? resemblance to her with a warmth that brought the colour to her cheek, and caused her heart to palpitate against his arm. A round table stood in the middle of the room loaded with cold chickens, cold ham, cold tongue, lobsters, pates, jellies, and salads. There were several sorts of wine on the table ; ratafia, rosa solis, and usquebaugh on the side-board ; and champagne in ace on the beaufet. As soon as the others made their appearance, Kitty dismissed the attendant. " We can wait upon ourselves just as well," she said, " and the presence of a servant is always a restraint." " I am quite of your opinion," said Trnssell. " Allow me to offer you a wing of a chicken." " Thankye," replied Kitty. " Pray take care of 3'ourself. Have you ever seen me play Flora in the opera before, Mr. Crew?" *' I'm almost ashamed to confess that this is the first time I've ■ever been in a theatre in London," replied Randulph. " I told you he was fresh from the country, Kitty," laughed the old beau — " very fresh !" " I like him all the better for it," she replied. " How singular I should be the first actress yo« have seen." " Singularlv delightful!" rejoined Randulph gallantly. And Trussell, who sat next him, nudged him in token of his entire approbation. " By-the-by, Sir Singleton," he said, " I haven't yet inquired how we chance to see you here to-night. I thought you we- •engaged to Lad}' Brab's drum ?" " So I was," replied the old beau. " In fact, I've been there for a couple of hours ; but I })refer a supper with Kitty Conway •to all the parties in the universe." " You flatter me," rejoined the fair object of the compliment; *' such a pretty speech deserves a glass of champagne. Will you join me and Mr. Crew in one ?" " With the greatest pleasure," replied Sir Singleton. And springing up with an agility perfectly youthful, he took •a bottle from the ice-pail, and poured its foaming contents into Kitty's glass. " A thousand thanks, Sir Singleton," she said. " I'm con- cerned to give you so much trouble." " Don't say a word," replied the old beau, bowing. " I'm enchanted to be your slave." " I see no reason why we shouldn't follow their example, THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 145 madam," said Trussell, taking the bottle from Randulpb, and assisting the elderly lady. " Nor I," she replied, returning his bow. « Apropos of Lady Brab's Drum, Mr. Crew," said Sir Singleton, "old Scarve the miser, and his daughter, Hilda, were there." ''I understood they were expected," said the young man, setting down his glass. "I hope the wine is not too much iced for you?" remarked Kitty, anxiously. " Not in the least," he replied. " It sometimes gives one a pain in the heart," said Kitty — *' and I feared that such might be the case with you." « Slie seemed to be greatly admired," resumed Sir Singleton ; " but for my part, I agree with Clementina Brabazon, in think- ing her beauty over-rated. One thing, perhaps, might be against her — she was decidedly out of spirits." Bandulph finished his glass. " Who are you speaking of?" asked Kitty, who, in her anxiety about Randulph, had not caught the previous remark. " Hilda Scarve," replied Sir Singleton. " She is considered very beautiful But she wont bear a comparison with some one I could point out." " I accept the compliment. Sir Singleton," rejoined Kitty,, smilini?. " I have heard of this fair creature before. Give me some ratafia, Mr. Crew, and pledge me. I can play the hostess, you perceive." " To perfection — as you play everything else," returned Ran- dulph. ^ " Why, you have only seen me in one part, and can t therefore judge," "she replied. " However, I accept the compliment, as I have just done Sir Singleton's." Trussell had felt some uneasiness about his nephew during the latter part of the conversation, but he now hoped the danger was past. He was mistaken. "I forgot to say, Mr. Crew," remarked Sir Singleton, with a. little covert malice, " that Villiers paid the miser's daughter very marked attention, and devoted himself to her almost exclusively during the whole time I remained." " Indeed !" exclaimed Randulph, turning pale. " And how did she receive his attentions ?" interposed Trussell, adroitly. " Why, coldly enough, I must say," replied Sir Singleton. "Was her father with her?— did he sit near her?" asked Ran- dulph, breathlessly. " No ; he was at cards, and thereby hangs a tale, which I will toll you anon. She was attended by Sir Norfolk Salusbury, who, I believe, is a relation of hers." L 146 THE MISERS DAUGIITFJ?. " Sir Norfolk is her cousin on her mother's side," remarked TriisselL " He is a stiff, punctilious old fellow," laufjhed Sir Singleton. *' He didn't seem in the least to approve of Villiers' attentions to Hilda, and I shouldn't wonder if they fight about her to-morrow. But now for the story I promised you. Old Scarve, who, it seems, is a capital whist player — " " He was always so reputed," observed Trusscll. " And with reason, as you will find," rejoined Sir Singleton. "Well, he sat down to cards, in the early part of the evening, with Sir Bulkeley Price, and in less than an hour won twelve thousand pounds of him. *' Twelve thousand pounds, Sir Singleton !" exclaimed Trus- sell. " You amaze me." "It amazed everybody else, too, I assure you," replied Sir Singleton. " Sir Bulkeley had had too much wine; and he went on losing and doubling his bets, until his losses amounted to the sum I've mentioned. I tried to stop iiim, but it was of no avail. You should have seen the old miser rise from the table after his success. I never beheld such fearful exultation. His eyes lite- rally blazed, and he walked like a young man. Sir Bulkeley got up at the same time, with a very flushed face, and said, ' You shall have your winnings to-morrow, Mr. Scarve.' To which the miser replied, with a bitter sneer, ' The mortgage will do as well. Sir Bulkeley.' " " A home thrust! and just like him," said Trussell. " Well, I've lost some money in my tinte, but never anything like this." " I wish I could have such luck as the miser," said Kitty ; " I'd leave off acting, and take to gaming. But you've been talking so hard, that you've forgotten to eat, gentlemen. For my own part, I should be glad of some champagne." Her glass was instantly filled by Randulph, and Sir Singleton challenged the elderly lady. The conversation then became very livel}'. Kitty presently volunteered a song, which she executed so charmingly, that it quite ravished her auditors. Infact,hersprigiit- liness, beauty, and accomplishments, coupled with her winning manners and good-nature, made her almost irresistible — and so Eandulph found. The champagne circulated freely, and its effects began to be slightly manifest on the two elderl}' gentlemen. Again Kitty poured forth her clear and melodious voice in song, when the door opened, and a young man entered the room. It was Philip Frewin. He looked surprised and annoyed at seeing the party, and a flush of anger rose to his cheek as he recognised Randulph. Killy Conway carelessly motioned him to a chair, which he took almost mechanically. Sir Singleton and Trussell slightly ac- knowledged his presence, but Randulph sternly regarded him. " T. believe, sir," he said, *' you are the person I saw at Mr. Scarve's, and whom I previously met at the Folly on the Than)cs. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 117 M;ij 1 ask the iiicanin;^ of the masquerade attire voii acsiuncd yesterday?" "You are under bome mistake, sir," rejoined Philip, wiili ojreat effrontery. "I know nothing of Mr. Scarve." " Not know him !" cried Randulph, in amazement. " I under- stood you were his nepliew, Philip Frewin." " I am no relation to Mr. Scarve, and my name is not Philip Fruin," replied the other. Kilty Conway here burst into aloud laugh, which she continued in s])ite of Philip's angry looks. '• Will you oblige me with your real name, then ? ' demanded Randulph, after a ])au?e, " No, sir, I will not," replied Philip. " Wtiat the devil is it to you what T am called? I am not accountable to you for my actions. How comes this impertinent fellow here, Kitty?" he added, turning to her. " He comes by my invitation," she rejoined; "and if you do not like his company, you can leave the house." " It is for him to leave, not me," replied Philip. " If he wont go quietly, I shall be under the necessity of turning him out." Kitty uttered a faint scream, and Rantlulph sprang to his feet, while the rest of the party regarded each other in dismay, as if in expectation of a scene. Under the influence of excessive passion, which supplied hiiu with a courage foreign to his craven nature, Philip strode towards Randulph, apparently with the intention of carryino; his threat into execution; but before he could reach him, Kitty threw lierself between then). Under her shelter, Philip became so violent in his manner and ofl'ensive in his language, that at last Randulph lost his patience, and snatching Sir Singleton's clouded cane from him, he pushed Kitty aside, and began to lay it wiih considerable energy upon Philip's shoulders. Roaring lustily, the latter made for the door, and Randulph pursued him, Kitty following closely after him, to see that no mischief ensued. In this way, they hurried along the lobby, where Philip got open the street-door, and darted out with such rapidity that he ran against a tall man who chanced to be passing at the time, and who instantly caught hold of him. Before his cnptor, walked two other persons, preceded by a link-bo}', and the latter hearing the noise, turned round, and threw his light full upon the party. The persons in advance were the miser and his daughter, who were returning from Lady Brabazon's, and the tall man who waa no other than Jacob Post. At this moment, Randulph rushed forth; but on seeing the miser and his daughter, he halted in dismay, which was not diminished as Kilty Conway came up and caught hold of his arm. It was an embarrassing situation certainly, and Randulph was so confounded that he could not utter a word. L 2 1 t8 THE INIISER'S DAUGHTER. Jacob, mcanwliilc, liavins: discovered the prize lie had caught, lost no time in announcing his good luck. *' Look here, sir!' he cried, triumphantly; ^^ look at 3'our miserly nephew I I have him fast enough. Look at the clothes he has on. Mayhap he'll deny himself now. Look at him, I sa}', sir I and satisfy yourself that it's him, for he'll outswear me afterwards if you don't." " What ! Philip !" cried the miser, " is it really you ?" " It is, sir," replied Philip. " And if you will order your servant to release me, 1 will explain how I came to be here, and in this dress. I have been put in peril of my life by Randolph Crew, who stands there with his mistress." " Release him, Jacob," said the miser. " Pd rather you'd let me take him to Saint James's Round- house," replied Jacob; "I'm sure it's the fittest place for him." " Do as I bid you, rascal !" cried Scarve, authoritatively, *'Now then, what is the meaning of all this, Philip?" " Do not inquire further, father," cried Hilda, trembling vio- lentl}'. " Come away, I beseeeh you." Seeing that Randulph was unable to speak, Kitty Conway advanced towards the miser. " I can explain what has happened in a moment," she said. " Father!" said Hilda, in a determined tone, " if you will not accompany me, I will walk forward by myself." '* I'm ready to go with you," said Jacob. "Well, well, I'm coming," replied the miser — "some otlijr time, nephew — some other tinle." As the miser and his daughter moved off in one direction, Philip, fearful of the consequences of remaining, ran off in the other. At this moment, Trussell and Sir Singleton appeared at the door. " Well, have you got rid of him ?" cried the former. " Look where he runs," laughed Kitty. " Wiio do you think chanced to be passing at the very time we came forth ?" " Perhaps the miser and his daughter," said Trussell. " A good guess," replied Kitty. "The devil!" exclaimed Trussell — "and they saw you with my nephew ? Why, this is worse than the Folly on the Thames !'* " Far worse !" groaned Randulph. ''My hopes are now utterly destroyed !" "I don't understand you/' said Kitty; "but come into the house." " No," replied Randulph, bitterly ; " and I would I had never entered it." " For Heaven's sake, Randulph, consider what you are about,'* cried Trussell; — "this rudeness to a pretty woman, who has shown you so much kindness! I blush for you." *' I am no longer master of myself," cried Randulph. ii8Li^iI.,^MyjB! ii ryjrj j _ i ii_j_ jgrt i ^ i ^ laj i w i »« r . -» i ,_ i jji l * jf^U-JlV * ^.:.,. ' ,JS^~; ^ ' , , . „r .i | J_ MWWjaie;»^WI B.j^^^j^._ THE miser's daughter. ] 4*? And marmurhin: some apology to Kitt}', he bade her good night, and walked off \Yith his uncle. " Well, here's a pretty conclusion to the supper," said Kitty to the old beau. " I don't know whether to laugh or cry; but perhaps I'd better laugh. Randulph Crew is an odd young man, but he's very handsome, and that makes up for a thousand sin- gularities." "He has very bad taste, Kitt^V replied Sir Singletc^n, "for he's blind to your attractions, and adores Hilda Scarve." " So it seems," she replied, in a tone of pique. " And now, good night, Sir Singleton." " Not just yet, sweet Kitty," he cried, following her. " I've a great deal to say to you. I shall make you another handsome present to-morrow." " Then keep what you have to say till then," she rejoined, slapping the door unceremoniously in his face. CHAPTER IV. EANDULPH'S career of gaiety — ABEL's remarks i:rON IT TO MR, JUKES. E,andulph's reflections on awaking the next morning were not of the most enviable kind ; and bitterly did he reproach himself for his imprudence. Fate seemed determined to place an insur- mountable bar between him and the object of his hopes, and he, at last, in some degree, consoled himself, as many others have done before him, by thinking that he was rather the victim of necessity than of his own misconduct. Throughout the early part of the day, he continued in a state of deep depression, from which Trussell in vain tried to rouse him. As to Abel, having ascertained from Mr. Jukes the cause of his despondency, he forebore to question him about it, and even feigned not to notice it. It required some little persuasion to induce him to dine with Lady Brabazon that day; but once in the atmosphere of her ladyship's wit and pleasantry, he soon revived. Divining, with true feminine tact, the cause of his dejection, she speedily dissi- pated it by her fine powers of raillery ; and to his own surprise, he passed a very agreeable evening, and quitted the house more than half in love with its fair mistress. Satisfied of the impression she had produced. Lady Brabazon did not fail to improve it. She included him in all her parties for a, month to come, and took care to involve him in such a round of gaiety and fashionable dissipation, that he could not by anv means extricate himself from it. The eifect of this was soon manifest in his habits, in his attire, and in his manners; and 150 THE miser's daughter. thoiip;li tlie change was mightily approved of by Trussell, it was viewed in a very different liglit by his more sagacious and far- sighted uncle. '•'Well, Jukes," said the latter, one day, to his butler, "my first opinion of Randulpli is fully borne out by his conduct." " Why, he is rather gay, to be sure," replied Mr. Jukes. " But I don't give him up yet. Young men, as Mr. Trussell says, will be young men." " But there's no occasion for them to be young rakes," said Abel, sharply. " My nephew is a sad dissipated dog. Lady Brabazon seems to have got him completely into her toils." " Ah ! she's a dangerous woman !" said Mr. Jukes, lifting up his hands — '* a dangerous woman !" '' And the pretty actress, Kitty Conway?" pursued Abel. " He sups with her occasionally, eh ?" " 1 fear he does, sir," replied Mr. Jukes. " Fear — yon linow he does, sirrah," cried Abel. " Why attempt to equivocate ? What masquerade were they talking of at break- fast this morning?" *' What, haven't you heard of it, sir?" replied the butler. " It's a grand masquerade to be held at Kanelagh on Thursday. All the world is going there; and, amongst others, my graceless nephew, Crackenthorpe Cripps." " What ! in his master's clothes, as before ?" said Abek "No, sir," replied Mr. Jukes, "as harlequin." " Harlequin !" echoed Abel, "that will suit him exactly. And I hope the silly widow he is paying his addi'esscs to will go as columbine." "Precisely what she means to do, sir," laugiicd Mr. Jukes. "Get me a domino before Thursday, Jukes ; Til go to this mascpierade myself." said Abel. " Whv, sir, you're becoming as great a rake as your nephew," returned Mr. Jukes, laugiiingly. "If I might be permitted, I should like to go with you to Ranelagh. I wish to have an eye on Crackenthorpe. Ah, sir ! our nephews are sad plagues to us — sad plagues !"' "My nephew shall not plague me much longer," replied Abel. "I'll give him another month, and then " "You'll give him another after that," interrupted the butler. " No I wont," rejoined Abel ; " I wont give him a day, nor an hour longer. I've spent nearly a hundred pounds upon hiui already — upon his dress — his amusements — his profligacies. No, I'll pack him off into the country. By-the-by, his mother has written to say she is coming to town. I've endeavoured to dis- suade her from the step, but she says she i^ uneasy about Ran- dulph." Well, I hope she'll come," returiied 3Ir. Jukes; "I'm sure she's wanted just now," THE miser's daughter. 151 " I've no wish to see her,'' said Abel, sternly. " There has been a coohiess between us for years." " Then the sooner it is got rid of the better," rejoined the butler. "Don't let the grave close over it. Her presence, I think, is very desirable. And on her son's account, as well as yours, I'm glad she's coming." "Don't calculate upon it," cried Abel, "for I don't think it likely. If I can hinder it, I will." " While we're on confidential matters, sir," said Mr, Jukes, " may I ask how Miss Scarve is getting on ?" "Well enough, for aught I know," rejoined Abel, testily; " I've neither heard from her, nor seen her, since my visit to her father. And now I wish to be alone. Take care to get me a domino before Thursday." CHAPTER V. RANDULPH RECEIVES A LETTER FROM HIS MOTHER — ITS EFFECT UPON HIM HIS GOOD RESOLUTIONS DEFEATED BY TRUSSELL. Randulph's mother had only written to him twice since his arrival in town, — for in those days ladies, especially country ladies, were neither so active nor so exacting in their corre- spondence, as at present, — when one day, just as he was sallying forth on a pleasurable expedition with Trussell, a letter was delivered to him by Mr. Jukes, bearing her superscription. Glancing at it with some misgiving, he would have broken the seal, but Trussell, noticing his reluctance, and guessing the cause, advised him to put it in his pocket, and read it on his return at night. *' Good advice," he said, laughingly, "it is all the better for keeping, — its chief recommendation being that it is just as effec- tual a month afterwards as at the moment given." " If it had been a billet from Lady Brabazon, or Kitty Conway, he would have opened it without hesitation," remarked Abel, who stood by. *' To be sure," replied Trussell, " and he would have done quite right, because such a note would require immediate atten- tion, and as a man of breeding he could not leave it a moment unanswered." "And I am to infer, therefore, that a mother's letter is to be put aside," rejoined Abel. " Not exactly, sir," laughed Trussell ; " but when one knows that it contains a lecture, one naturally feels indisposed to read it. That I su]ipt>se you can understand." "I understand no such thing,'' rej)lied Abel, tartly; "but I 152 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. perfectly understand liow excessive addiction to pleasure injures the best principles and chills the warmest affections. Filial love and duty have little influence when dissipation has obtained the bway." "I acknowledge the justness of your rebuke, uncle," said Randolph, "and will read the letter instantly." " On no account," rejoined Abel; "pursue your first impulse. It will M querade attire, Mr. Cripps beiii<; arrayed in the parti-coloured garb of the hero of pantomime, — which differed only in soinc^ immaterial points, such as the looseness of the pantaloons at the ankle, and the amplitude of the sjiirt collar, from the garb of the modern harlequin. He was provided with a wand, and his face was concealed by a close black vizard. Mr. Rathbone had a large hump on his shoulders, like that of Punch (wliom,by-the-by, his figure greatly resembled), a well-stuffed paunch, a lar^^e pro- tuberance behind, shoes with immense roses in them, a tali sugar-loaf hat, and a mask, with a great hooked nose and chin. He carried, moreover, a stout knobbed stick. As to the lachv her goodly person was invested in a white satin habit, glistening with spangles, and flounced with garlands of flowers. She had short sleeves, with deep falls of lace to them, — satin shoesy. braided with silver cord, — a pearl necklace round her throat, and a wreath of artificial roses upon her head. She declined hiding her features behind a mask, which Mr. Cripps declared was- excessively kind and considerate. Ttieir passage along the river was delightful, Mr. Cripps being so excited that he could not be content to remain under the tilt,, but displayed himself in the fore part of the boat, ogling all the prettiest damsels among the spectators, retorting the jests of their male companions, and, whenever an opportunity offered, dealing^ them a hearty thwack with his wand. Mrs. Nettleship did not altogether relish these proceedings, but Mr. Rathbone enjoyed them amazingly, and laid about him right and left, like his rival, with his knobbed stick. On landing at Chelsea, they met, according to appointment,, the little barber and his companion. The fair Thomasine looked uncommonly pretty. She had on a gown of yellow and silver, spangled like the widow's, and adorned with garlands of flowers, with a bodice of pink satin, crossed with ribands of the same- colour. Round her throat she wore a chain of gold, from which depended an imitation diammd solitaire, and her rich auburn tresses were covered with the prettiest little coquettish hat: imaginable. Her dress was purposely made short, so as to di.-^- play her small, feet and ankles. From the same motive also as^ the widow, she declined wearing a mask. Mr. Cripps was quite captivated by her, and claiming the privilege of his character,, took her from the barber, and offered her his unoccupied arm. Peter Pokerich wore a scull cap, covered with red and white worsted, arranged somewhat like a cock's-comb, a large ruff, a \ red calico doublet, white slashed calico drawers, with huge ' bunches of ribands at the knees, and pink silk hose. His face was painted in red and white streaks. Like the others, he was in tip-top spirits; and the whole party proceeded to Ranelagh, which was not far distant, laughing and jesting with each otheir merrily. 170 THE MISER*S DAUGHTER. They found the road from town coni{)letcIy stopped up by a line of carriages, while the throng of spectators on foot rendered it difficult to get on. The fatniliarities of the crowd were ahnost iinsupportable. Not a coach or a chair was suffered to pass without its occupant being inspected by the curious, who, in many cases, compelled those they annoyed to let down the windows, that they might have a better view of their dresses. By dint of elbowing and squeezing, assisted by the wand and knobbed stick, the party contrived to move slowly forward; and as they did so, they had ample opportunity of glancing at the occupants of the different vehicles. Mr, Cripps very soon dis- tinguished his master's gilt chariot; but he did not turn aside, as his mask and dress ensured him from detection. Mrs. Nettle- gliip was struck by the magnificence of the equipage, and recalling the features of the beau, who was wrap[)ed in a sky-blue domino, and wore a Spanish hat and feathers, but kept his mask in his hand, said, " Wh}', that's the fine gentleman who spoke to you in Marylebone Gardens. What's his name ?" " Odd enough ! the same as my own — Villiers," replied Mr. Cripps. " He's a first cousin ot niinc, and we're considered very much alike." By the side of Mr. Villiers s:it Sir Singleton Spinkc. The antiquated beau was so metamorphosed, that Mr. Cripps scarcely recognised him ; nor would he, perhaps, have done so, if the charms of the fair Thomasine had not attracted the old coxcomb's attention, and caused him to tlyust his head out of the window to look at her. Sir Singleton, as fivouring his turn for gallantry, had chosen the part of Pierrot, and was habited in the pecuhar vestment of white calico, with long, loose sleeves, as well as the in'oad-leavcd, high-crowned hat proper to the character. Lady Braba/on's carriage immediately preceded that of the bean, and contained her ladyship, Clementina, Trussell, and Randulph. Trussell was dressed like a Turk, and wore a large turban, ornamented with a crescent, and a fine, flowing, coal- black beard. Randulph did not ap[)ear in character, but was attired in y light blue velvet coat, laced with gold, the work of the French tailor, Desmartins, which displayed his elegant figure to the greatest advantage. He had not yet put on his mask. 'Clementina was robed in a pink silk domino, and wore a black velvet hat, looped with diamond-, and ornamented with a ])lume of white feathers, and really looked very beautiful. Lady Bia- bazon wore a rich silk dress, embossed with gold and silver, that suited her admirably. Next in advance of Lady Brabazon's carriage was that of Sir Bulkeley Price. The Welsh Baronet was in his ordinary attire, but lie was accompanied by a Chinese Mandarin, in a loose gown of light silk, girt at the middle with a silken belt, and having a conical cap, lopped by a gilded ball, on his head. This person. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 17I notwithstarulinp; the disguise of a long twisted board, Mr. Crinps liiievv to be Cordwell Firebras. Passing several other carriages filled with various characters, they came to an old-fashioned chariot, driven by a coachman as ancient as itself in a faded livery, and drawn by two meagre- looking, superannuated horses. But, notwithstandiog its un- promising appearance, the occupants of tliis carriage attracted especial attention from the beholders, and many and loud vsere the exclamations of admiration uttered by thcni. " She is beautiful !" cried one. " Enchanting !" cried another. *' By far the prettiest person who has gone to the masquerade," cried a third. And so on in the same rapturous strain. Excited by these remarks, Mr. Cripps pressed forward to have a peep into the carriage, and found it occupied by Sir Norfolk Salusbury and an exquisitely beautiful young female attired with great simplicity in a dress of white satin, with wide short; sleeves, as was then the mode, trimmed with deep falls of lace. A diamond necklace encircled her throat, and a few natural flowers constituted the sole ornaments of her dark abundant hair. It was Hilda Scarve, as Mr. Cripps was instantly aware, though he had scarcely time to look at lier, for Sir Norfolk, out of all patience with the familiarity of the spectators, thrust him forcibly back, and ordered the coachman, in a peremptory tone, to drive on — an injunction with which the old domestic found some difficulty in complying. And now before entering Ranelagh, it may be proper to offer a word as to its history. Alas ! for the changes and caprices of fashion ! This charming place of entertainment, the delight of our grandfathers and grandmothers, the boast of the metropolis, the envy of foreigners, the renowned in song and story, the para- dise of hoops and wigs, is vanished, — numbered with the things that were I — and, we fear, there is little hope of its revival. Rane- lagh, it is well known, derived its designation from a nobleman of the same name, by whom the house was erected, and the gardens, esteemed the most beautiful in the kingdom, originally laid out. Its situation adjoined the Royal Hospital at Chelsea; and the date of its erection was 1690-1. Ranelagh House, on the death of the earl, in 1712, passed into the possession of his daughter. Lady Catherine Jones ; but was let, about twenty years afterwards, to two eminent builders, who relet it to Lacy» afterwards patentee of Drury Lane Theatre, and commonly called Gentleman Lacy, by whom it was taken with the inten- tion of giving concerts and breakfasts within it, on a scale far superior, in point of splendour and attraction, to any that had been hitherto attcm|)tcd. In .1741, the premises were sold by Lacy to Messrs. Crispe and Meyonnet for 4000/., and the rotunda was erected in the same year by subscription. From this date, the true history of Ranelagh may be said to commence. 172 THE miser's daughter. It at once burst into fashion, and its entertainments being attended by persons of the first (jnality, crowds Hocked in their train. Shortly after its openint;, Mr. Crispe became the sole lessee ; and in spite of the brilliant success of the enterprise shared the fate of most lessees of places of public amusement, beino; declared bankrupt in 1744. The property was then divided into thirty shares, and so continued until Ranelagh was closed. The earliest entertainments of Ranelao-h were niorninic concerts, consistmg chiefly of oratorios, produced under the direction of Michael Festing, the leader of the band ; but evening concerts were speedily introduced, the latter, it may be men- tioned, to show the difference of former fashionable hours from the present, commencing at half-past five, and concluding at nine. Thus it began, but towards its close, the gayest visitors to Ranelagh went at midnight, just as the concerts were finishing, and remained there till three or four in the morning. In 1754, the fashionable world were drawn to Ranelagh l)y a series of amusements called Comus's Court ; and, notwithstanding their somewhat questionable title, the revels were conducted with great propriety and decorum. A procession which was intro- duced was managed with great effect, and several mock Italian duets were sung with remarkable spirit. Almost to its close, Ranelagh retained its character of being the finest place of public entertainment in Europe, and to the last the rotunda was the wonder and delight of every beholder. The coup-d'ocil of the interior of this structure was extraordinarily striking, and impressed all who beheld it for tVie first time with surprise. It was circular in form, and exactl}' one hundred and fifty feet in diameter. Round the lower part of the building ran a beautiful arcade, the intervals between each arch being filled up by alcoves. Over this was a gallery with a balustrade, having entrances from the exterior, and forming a sort of upper boxes. Above the gallery was a range of round-headed windows, between each of which was a carved figure supporting the roof, and form- ing the terminus of the column beneath. At first, the orchestra was placed in the centre of the amphitheatre, but being found exceedingly inconvenient, as well as destructive of the symmetry of the building in that situation, it was removed to the side. It contained a stage capable of accommodating thirty or forty chorus-singers. The original site of the orchestra was occupied by a large chimney, having four faces enclosed in a beautifully- proportioned hollow, hexagonal column, with arched openings at the sides, and a balustrade at the base. Richly moulded, and otherwise ornamented with appropriate designs, this enormous column had a charming effect, and gave a peculiar character to the whole amphitheatre. A double range of large chandeliers descended from the ceiling; others were placed within the column above mentioned, and every alcove had its lamp. When THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 173 all these chandeliers and lamps were lighted, the effect was won- derfully brilliant. The external diameter of the rotunda was one hundred and eighty- five feet. It was surrounded on the outside by an arcade similar to that within, above which ran a galler}', with a roof supported by pillars, and defended by a balustrade. The main entrance was a handsome piece of archi- tecture, with a wide, round arched gate in the centre, and a lesser entrance at either side. On the left of the rotunda stood the Earl of Ranelagh's old mansion, a structure of some magni- tude, but with little pretensions to beauty, being built in the formal Dutch taste of the time of William of Orange On the right, opposite the mansion, was a magnificent conservatory, with great pots of aloes in front. In a line with the conser- vatory, and the side entrance of the rotunda, stretched out a long and beautiful canal, in the midst of which stood a Chinese fishing-temple, approached by a bridge. On either side of the canal were broad gravel walks, and alleys shaded by lines of trees, and separate<2 by trimly-clipped hedges. The gardens were excjuisitely arranged with groves, bow'ers, statues, temples, wilderne>ses, and shady retreats. Though Lady Brabazon's carriage was within a hundred yards of the entrance of Ranelagh when Mr. Cripps and his party passed it, owing to the crowd and confusion it was nearly a quarter of an hour in setting down. Before getting out, the whole party put on their masks : and Lady Brabazon wrapped herself in a yellow silk domino. Trussell took charge of Cle- mentina, and her ladyship fell to Randuljih's care. It was yet extremely early, but the crowd was prodigious, — many hundred persons being assembled in the area before the entrance to the rotunda. At least a thousand others were dispersed within the gardens, for the rotunda was not opened till the evening : and it was afterwards computed that more than four thousand persons attended the masquerade. At the entrance, Lady Brabazon and herdaughter werejoined by Beau Villiers, Sir Bulkeley Price, and Firebras, Sir Singleton Spinke having disappeared. Randulph had already been more than once at Ranelagh, but it was only to attend the ordinary concerts, and never having seen a masquerade, he was extra- ordinarily struck with the spectacle ])resented to him. Most of the characters were grotesquely dressed, as was the taste of the time, for it was not a period when the niceties of costume were understood or regarded ; stili, the general effect was admirable. A May-pole, surmounted by a crown, with long ribands dangling from it, was planted in front of the conservatory, and several dancers were cha.sing each other round it, while lively strains were played by a band of musicians beside them. Other and less melodious sounds were heard. Now a drummer would go by, beating a rub-a-dub enough to deafen every listener. Then 174 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. came tlie vile scrajiiu got" a fiddle, or the shrill notes of a fife. The shouts, the laughter, the cries of all kinds baffled descrip- tion, and equally vain would it be to attempt any delineation of the motley assemblage. It consisted of persons of all countries, all periods, and all ranks, for the most part oddly enough jumbled together. A pope in his tiara would be conversing with a Jew; a grave lawver in his gown and wig had a milk-girl under his arm; a highland chief in his full equipments escorted a nun ; a doge in his splendid habiliments was jesting with a common sailor with a thick stick under his arm. But froHc and fun every- where prevailed : and to judge from the noise, everybody seemed to be merry. No one could escape from the tricks and jests of the buffoons with whom the crowd abounded. The humour o the last century was eminently practical ; cuffs and kicks were liberally dealt around, and returned in kind: and whenever a sounding blow was heard, it elicited shouts of laughter like those that are heard at the feigned knocks in a pantomime. The clowns, Punches, Pierrots, doctors, and harlequins, of whom there were several, besides our friend Mr. Cripps, were the chief creators in this kind of merriment. While Randulph, greatly diverted by all he saw, was gazing around, a few words pronounced by a voice whose tones thrilled to his heart caught his ear. He turned, and saw close beliind him, attended by a tall personage, whose stiffness left no doubt as to its being Sir Norfolk Salusbury, a beautiful female mask, whose snowy skin, and dark streaming ringlets, would have told him, if his heart had not informed him of the fact, that it was Hilda, but before he could summon resolution to address her, she had passed by; and Lady Brabazon, who had likewise heard the voice and recognised the speaker, dragged him in the opposite direction towards the May-pole, He looked eagerly backwards, but the fair mask was lost amid the throng, nor could he even discern the tall figure of Sir Norfolk. A merry scene was before him, but he heeded it not. The chief dancers round the May-pole were Mr. Cripps and his party. To these were added, Sir Singleton Spinke, who had attached himself to the fair Thomasine, to the no small annoyance of Peter Pokerich, and a fat quack doctor and his attendant, the latter having a fool's-cap on his head. Round and round went the dancers, Mr. Cripps footing it with remarkable agility, and Peter vainly emulating his capers, when some confusion was created by Sir Singleton attempting to overtake the fair Tho- masine, and possess himself of her hand. No more perfect pantaloon can be imagined than the old beau represented, and his gesticulations and grimaces called forth the laughter of all the spectators, which broke into shouts as, at the conclusion of the dance, Mr. Cripps gave him a sounding smack on his lean shanks, with his wand, while the jealous barber lent him a box THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 175 over the ear. But this did not quench liis ardour, and a gesture irom the coquettish cokimbine, who seemed determined not to iosc him, drew him after her, as she tripped along tiie right-hand alley near the canal with the rest of her gamesome jiartv. Randulph would wilHngly have disengaged himself from Lad\'- Brabazon, but he could not do so without positive rudeness ; and what made it worse was, that he was now left afone with her, for the rest of the party had disappeared, and he could not help fearing Beau Villiers might have discovered Hilda, and have tjone in pursuit of her. "Come, Randulph," said her ladyship, rallying him; "you seem to have lost your s[)irits at the very time they ought to be at the highest. Refreshments are given in the Chinese fishing temple. Let us go there, and try whether a glass of champagne will enliven you." Randulph suffered himself to be led in the direction men- tioned, and if he had been able to enjoy it, the scene offered to his gaze must have amused him, for it was extremely lively and diverting. The Chinese temple had been newly gilt and deco- rated, and its burnished pinnacles were reflected in the waters of the canal. It was filled with company, most of whom were par- taking of refreshments, while an excellent band stationed in the midst of it played the liveliest airs, to which several parties on the banks of the canal were dancing. Amongst others were Mr. Cri[)ps and his two cohnnbines, who frolicked along the alley on the right, followed by the barber, the old beau, and Rathbonc, attracting general attention. Mr. Cripps was so agile, danced so well, and leaped so w'onderfully, that it was generally supposed he was Mr. Yates, the celebrated harlequin of Drury Lane, while if the fair Thomasine had not been so pretty, she would have been taken for Mrs. Mann, the favourite columbine of the same house. As it was, she was allowed on all hands to be the best dancer in the garden ; and her glances were so be- M-^itching, that many other persons fell in love with her besides Sir Singleton Spinke. One person, in especial, who displayed the most undisguised admiration of her, and who kept as near as he could, was a tall young man, with thin, sharp features, which Mr. Cripps, after puzzling his brains to recollect them, at last called to mind as belonging to the companion of Kitty Conway, at the Folly on the Thames. This young man, who wore a long black silk gown, a velvet cap of the same colour, and a flowing black wig, and intended to represent an Italian doctor, it is, perhaps, almost needless to say, was Philip Frewin. Another admirer was a person habited as a pope, who kept constantly in their train, Imt whose robe and large mask precluded all idea of discovering who he was. Neither Mr. Cripps nor his pretty columbine were displeased by the attention they attracted, and the latter returned the amorous glances cast at her by Phili'), 176 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. and the passionate gestures of tlie pope, in a manner that drove the little barber almost distracted. As to Mr. Cripps, he threw somersets over the clipped hedge, vaulted over Mr. Rathbone's hump, slapped the pope on the back, clapped the old bean on the shoulder, twirled round his head, and performed a hundred other pantomime antics, to the infinite diversion of the beliolder?. When arrived near the extreniity of the walk, he called out to the musicians in the Chinese temple to strike up the tune, " Hey, bovs, up we go!" and immediately commenced a lively dance to it with his two columbines, in which they were presently joined by Rathbone, Sir Singleton, and the barber. Having crossed the bridge leading to the Chinese temple, Lady Brabazon stopped, and setting Randulph at liberty, leaned against the rail at the entrance, to survey the gay crowd around. Whilst she was thus engaged. Beau Villiers, followed by an attendant with a bottle of champagne on a silver waiter, ap- proached her, and pressing her to take a glass, looked significantly at her, as if he had something to conmuuiicate. Taking advantage of this fortunate interruption, Randulpli sprang into a Chinese-fashioned boat lying near the bridge, and seizing the oars rowed off towards the canal, keeping near its sides, the better to view the company. Failing, however, in discovering the object of his search, he was returning towards the bridge, where Lady Brabazon was still standing in conversa- tion with the beau, when a roar of laughter from the dancers in the alley on the further side of the clipped hedge, attracted his attention. This, it appeared,- was occasioned by a misadventure that had just occurred to the old beau, who having been carried away by his enthusiasm at the fair Thomasine's dancing, had rushed forward with the intention of snatching a kiss from her ruby lips, when the jealous little barber, divining his intention, threw himself in his way, and tripped up his heels. In this posture he presented a tempting mark for Mr. Cripps, whose wand resounded in a rapid succession of strokes upon his withered limbs. Randulph, who had raised himself in the boat to see what was .going forward, now sat down, and had just resumed the oars, when Clementina Brabazon, and another masked dame who had been conversing with Trussell and Firebras, approached the edge of the canal, and called to him. "I know who you are searching for, Mr. Crew," cried Clemen- tina ; " and could help you to find the person if I chose." " Then you will choose. I am sure," replied Randulph, pulling hastily towards her. " Where is she ?" "Well, I'll be good-natured," she answered. "Look behind you." Randulph instantly turned in the direction indicated, and beheld •clilda seated at one end of the temple. Behind her stood Sir Tlie Masgnexade m Ranelagh. gardens THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 177 Norfolk Salu:iburv, while Sir Biilkcley Price was liandinji; licr a glass of" chain pagnc. Bat Hilda was so much occupied by what was passing- on the canal, that she was not aware of the knight's attention. As Randulph regarded her, however, she arose, and declining Sir Bulkclcy's offer, took Sir Norfolk's arm, and left the temple. Heedless of Clementina's laughter, Randulph, without losing sight of Hilda, pushed the boat towards the bank, and leaping out, was about to follow her, when he was arrested by a heaN-y hand laid on his arm, and looking up, beheld Cordwell Firebras. " You are on a vain {|UGst, young man," said Firebras, in an under tone. "You will never obtain a word with Hilda Scarve unless by my mediation." Randulph made a movement of impatience. " Be not rash," pursued Firebras, still detaining him. *' I tell you, you will totally fail in your object, and will only involve yourself in a quarrel with Sir Norfolk Salusbury." " I care not," replied Randulph. " Let me go. By Heaven t I shall lose her." " That you most assuredly will, if you follow her now," rejoined Firebras, calmly. " Be ruled by me. I will introduce you to her, but it cannot be in your own character, for Sir Norfolk has been requested by her father not to permit your approach. And I shall, therefore, have to pass you ofl' to him as some one else." " And you attach no condition to the obligation ?" cried Ran- duljih — " none at least that I cannot honourably comply with." '• I may, perhaps, remind you of it at some future time, that is all," rejoined Firebras. " Enough !" cried Randulph. '•' Take me to her at once." "Impossible," exclaimed Firebras. "I must prepare Sir Norfolk, and give Hilda a hint of my intention, lest she should ])revent it, for I perceived just now that she discovered you. Rejoin your party, and avoid exciting the suspicions of Lady Brabazon and Beau Villiers, or they may mar all. I may not, jjcrhnps, be able to accomplish the object you desire till the evening, so curb your impatience." With this, he moved off, and mingled with the crowd, while Randulph joined Lady Brabazon. Her ladyship made many sarcastic remarks upon his display upon the water, and compli- mented him, ironically, upon his skill as a rower. Randulph was in no mood for such raillery, and might have made some angry retort, but at that moment, there was a great stir in the walk near the bridiie, occasioned by the approach of the Prince and Prmcess of Wales, attended by a large retinue. The royal party entered the temple, and remained there more than half an hour conversing with tliose around them. Randulph had the iiunour of a presentation to the prince, by Mr. Villiers; anc' 178 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. while ena;a2ed in conversation with that ilhistrious personage, he perceived Cordwell Firebras among the by-standers; but he could not, without a breach of etiquette, withdraw to speak to him, and when the rojal party quitted the temple, he was gone. He was about to search for him, when Beau Villiers, who had followed the Prince of Wales, hastily returned, and said, with an expression of malicious satisfaction, that he had his Royal Highness's commands to him to join his train. Randulph had no alternative but compliance, and to his own chagrin, and his uncle Trussell's delight, he mingled with the royal attendants, and proceeded with them in their promenade through the gardens. In the course of this ramble, he perceived Firebras standing with Hilda and Sir Norfolk; and though he was greatly annoyed not to be able to join them, it was some satisfaction to him to observe that his present position seemed to operate to his advantage with tlie lady. The performances of Mr. Cripps's party diverted Doth the royal personages during their stroll, and they laughed heartily at a comic dance executed by them. Some hours passed on in this way, and Randulph was still held in bondage. At length, the rotunda was o{)ened. Of course, the royal party was ceremoniously ushered in, in the first place; but immediately afterwards, crowds poured in, and the whole area of the amphitheatre, together with the boxes and gallery above, were filled with company. What with the innu- merable lights, and the extraordinary variety of dresses, the whole scene had a most brilliant effect. There was an excellent band in the orchestra, and a concert was commenced, but little attention was paid to it by the, assemblage, who continued pro- menading round and round the amphitheatre — laughing and talking loudly with each other. As soon as the concert was over, the loud blowing of a horn attracted general observation to a platform near the central column, on which the quack doctor and his attendant were stationed — the latter of whom began dispensing his medicines, and vaunting their efficacy, in a highly ludicrous manner. This and other entertainments consumed the time till ten o'clock ; before which, however, a magnificent supper was served to the royal party in a private refreshment room. A bell was then rung, to announce that a grand display of fireworks was about to take place, and the company hurried to the outer galleries and to the gardens to witness the exhibition. Much confusion ensued, and amidst it, the fair Thomasine, somehow or other, got seftarated from her party. Ttie little barber was almost frantic. He rushed hither and thither among the crowd, calling for her by name, and exciting general ridicule. At last, in an agony of despair, he stationed himself near the scaffold where the fireworks were placed ; and THE miser's daughter. 179 when the first signal-rocket ascended, he perceived her pretty face turned upwards at a httle distance from him. She was standing near the trees with the old beau, whose transports at his enviable situation were somewhat disturbed by the descent of a heavy rocket-stick on his head. At this juncture the little barber reached his truant mistress, and forcing her from Sir Singleton, placed her rounded arm under his own, and held it last. " Oh dear, how glad I am to see you," said the nauojhty little Thomasine, for '-fair" she does not deserve to be called; *' we've been looking for you everywhere" — (here she told a sad .«;tory). " That odious old beau has been trying to persuade me to run away with him. He offers to settle — I don't know what — upon me, and to make me Lady Spinke." " And why don't you accept his offer?" said the barber, in an ecstasy of jealous rage. " Because I'm en- s^ <_ — Bf6! 5- Ons-^ ^ TiijK' 'M^iJo ;-diLLpii and' hi^aa dajicnii;:;!' in me i-ioiimaa at Lax^eiaon. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 181 not exchanged a word with her, and I will take care he shall not exchnnge one." " You are desperately in love with this girl, Villiers," said Lady Brabazon, angrily. " I thought it was her fortune ujcrelj you aimed at." " I have been foiled, and that has piqued me," replied Villiers. " Le jeu ne vaiit ims la chandelle" rejoined Lady Brabazon. *' After the failure of your attempt to carry her off, I wonder you will persevere." " Hush !" exclaimed the beau. " Some one may overhear us. I would have carried her off to-night, if I had known she would have been here. Your ladyship ought to be obliged to me for the trouble I ain taking. I shall remove your rival, and you will then have young Crew entirely to yourself. And now to put Sir Norfolk on his guard." With this, he passed on to the Welsh baronet, and addressed him. The latter bowed stiffly in return, and approached nearer the dancers; and while Hilda was courtseying to her partner at the close of the minuet, he took her hand and led her away. The young man would have followed them, but Cordwell Fire- bras came up and arrested him. " It wont do," he said ; " Villiers has told the old baronet who you are. I must go after him instantly, and make some excuse for my share in the matter, or I shall have to cross swords with him to-morrow morning. I have done all I can for you. Good night." Soon after this, Randulph quitted the masquerade with Trussell. With some difficulty a boat was procured to convey them home. Finding his nephew in no mood for conversation, Trussell, who was rather tired, and moreover had drunk a good deal of punch and champagne, disposed himself to slumber, nor did he awake till they reached Lambeth Stairs. Another boat had just landed, and two persons in dominos marched before them in the very direction they wci'e going. " Why, who the deuce have we here?" cried Trussell, rmining forward to overtake the party in advance. " Zounds, brother, is it you ? Have you been at the masquerade ?" " I have," replied Abel ; " and I have seen all that has occurred there." CHAPTER IX. JACOB BRINGS A PIECE OF INTELLIGENCE TO EANDDLPU — TRUSSLLL AND RANDOLPH GO TO DRURr LANE. About a week after this, as Randulph was dressing himself one inoTning, jNIr. Jukes entered his room, and informed him that the miser's servant, Jacob Post, wished to speak to him. 182 THE miser's daughter. " He is at the door," added the butler, mysteriously — " he seems very anxious to see you, so I broup;ht him up stairs." " Quite right. Jukes," replied Randulph — " let him come in by all means." " I don't know that it is quite right, sir," replied Mr. Jukes, smiling. " I fear my master may be angry with me for admitting him : but I didn't like to disoblige you." " Very kind of you, indeed. Jukes," replied Randulph. " My uncle shall know nothing about the matter from me. But let Jacob come in." Tlie good-natured butler then retired, and the next moment the porter entered the room, scratching his head, as was his wont when in any way embarrassed. " Well, Jacob," said Randulph, extending his hand to him, — "I'm glad to see you. Sit down." "JS'o, I thank'ee, sir," replied Jacob, "I'd rather stand. My business wont allow of sittin'." "Then begin upon it at once," rejoined Randulph. " Before I begin," said Jacob, making himself up for a speech, "I must premise that I'm come on n)y own accord, and at nobody else's recjucst whatsomdever, least of all by desire of Miss Hilda—" "I'm perfectly satisfied of it, Jacob," interrupted Randulph — " jierfectly." " Then you quite understand I'm come here without her know- ledge or previtty ?" said Jacob. " Quite so," replied Randulph — " I am quite sure she did not send you." "No, that she didn't," rejoined Jacob, "and mortal angry she'd be with me if she thought I had come. But I see you're impatient, and I'll keep you no longer in suspense. I'm come, then, to tell you, that my young missis is going to Wauxhall to-night." " A thousand thanks for the information, Jacob !" cried Ran- dulph, taking a crown fi'om his purse which lay on the table — "Drink my health." "I'd rather not take the money, — much obleeged to you all the same, sir," replied Jacob. " But as I was savin', niy young missis is goin' to Wauxhall with Sir Norfolk Salusbury, and they're to join Lady Drabbyson and Mr. Willars. Now I've no great opinion of those two fine folks. Indeed, I suspect they're contriving: some wicked desifju against Miss Hilda. But it's no use warnin' my master, for he wilfully shuts his eyes to danger : and as to Sir Norfolk, he's too much wrapped up in hisself, and too proud to listen to me. I therefore thought it better to come to you." " Wliat do you suspect, Jacob?" asked Randulph. "Why, it's no matter what I suspect just now," replied the THE miser's daughter. 183 porter,^-" but I'm on a scent, and I'll find it out before night. Have you heard o' the attempt to carry off 3'oung missis ?" " No !" replied Randulph — " but you su 'ely don't suspect Mr. Villiersofit?" "At mayn't be safe to speak out," replied Jacob, " especially as I can't bring proof. But I could almost undertake to swear that his walet, Mr. Cripps, was one of the parties engaged-in it." " The rascal is capable of anything !" cried Randulph. " Satisfy me that Mr. Villiers was the author of the atrocious attempt you have mentioned, and he shall pay for his villany with his fife." " Wait till to-night, sir," replied Jacob. " I may be able to satisfy you then. I'm on the look out." " I have my own reasons for thinking some design is on foot,'* replied Randulph, " because Lady Brabazon has sent me and my uncle tickets for Drury Lane to-night, regretting she could not go there herself, but omitting to mention a word about Vauxhall." " She wanted to get you out o' the way," returned Jacob., " It's a deep laid scheme. But I'll unravel it. Don't let any one — not even your uncle, Mr. Trussell, know where you're goin' to-night. You can watch what's done, and act accordingl3% I'Ji be there, and let you know what I've learnt in the mean- time." " I entirely approve of your advice," rejoined Randulph, " and will act in accordance with it. But how will you see me there?" " Be under the orchyster at ten o'clock, and I'll find means o' comin' to you," replied Jacob. "And now my time's up. You'll be cautious?" "Fear me not," replied Randulph. And Jacob took his departure. Acting upon the porter's suggestion, Randulph said nothing to his uncles of what had passed ; nor did Mr. Jukes mention a word of Jacob's visit, so that neither of them had any idea of the- cause of his abstraction, though both remarked it. He spent the greater part of the morning in his own room, in order to indulge his thoughts unrestrainedly, and only came down stairs to dinner when he was perfectly composed. Abel was graver than usual, but Trussell was in his usual flow of spirits, and talked of the performances they were about to witness. " We are going to see the Beau's Stratagem, sir," he said to his brother, "and as Mr, Garrick is to play Archer, and Mr. Macklin, Scrub, we cannot fiiil of being well entertained." " Humph!" exclaimed Abel. "Then as to ladies," added Trussell, turning to Randulph, " we are to have the charming Mrs. Gibber, and the scarcely less charming Mrs. W'offington ; and the critics tell me that the new opera— the Teinpie of Dulness — is to be delightful." 184 THE miser's daughter. '•' Ntj wonder crilics say so," observed Abel, with a sneer; *'tb;i title alone woultl make it attractive to them." " Bravo !" exclaimed Trussell. " By-the-by," he added aside to Randulph, "your friend Kitty Conway sings at Vauxhall to- night." " Indeed !" exclaimed Kandidph. "I'm surprised you don't go to hear her," said Abel, who had overheard the remark, looking so hard at him that he was covered with confusion. "He's otherwise engaged," interrupted Trussell. "I only heard of it this mornino; by accident. We'll go to Vauxhall if you prefer it to Drury Lane, Randulph." " jNo, don't alter your arran<:en)ents !" cried Randulph, hastily. " Sir Singleton Spinke will be there, I'll be sworn," lauglied Trussell — " though he's got a new flame ; the daughter of a mercer named Deacle, who lives in the Little Sanctuar}', just opposite — but never mind where she lives," he added, observing his brother frowned — " she's a devilish pretty girl, and is called, on account of her beauty, the fair Thomasine. You saw her at the masquerade at Ranclagh the other night. She was one of the columbines who danced with Mr. Cripps." " / noticed her," observed Abel — " a silly coquette !" "I'll tell you a capital joke about Sir Singleton and this fair damsel," pursued Trussell, laughing. " You must know that he supped with her and her party the other night at Ranelagh, and got so drunk that he was left under the table in the alcove. While he was in this state, some one, most probably Mr. Cripj)s, cut off his long queue, and sent'it the next morning in a packet to the fair Thomasine, accouipanied b}' a tender epistle, offering her his hand, and begging, as he could not send a lock of his hair, to enclose instead — his pigtail !" "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed ]NIr. Jukes, who was in attendance. ** Just like one of Crackenthorpe's tricks, — just like him." This story forced a smile even from Abel, and the rest of the dinner passed off agreeably enough. The cloth was removed, and the wine placed upon the table, but Randulph scarcely tasted it, and Trussell, after swallowing a few glasses, said it was time to start for the play. "Before you go, I have a word to say to you, Randulph," remarked Abel, in a tone that alarmed the young man. " I have made no conmients upon your dissipated course of life of late, because I felt it would be thrown away; but it must now bo ended." " I am at a loss to know, sir, what particular part of my con- duct has displeased you," said Randulph. " I speak of your conduct generally, not particularly," rejoined Abel, severely. " But there will be one here to-morrow who hits belter title to admonish you than I have." THE miser's daughter. 185 " Your words woulil seem to refer to my mother, sir," siiici Randulph, in great surprise. " Is she coming to town?" " She will be here to-morrow," replied Abel. " But you are detaining your uncle Trussell — he is impatient. Go. It is your last night, make the most of it." Trussell was as much surprised as Randulph at what Lad just passed, but he made no remark till they got out of the house. " Well, I shall be delighted to see my sister Crew," he said — "delighted to see her. But I wonder why the old gentleman made a secret of her coming. Don't be apprehensive of any lectures from her, Randulph. I'll set all right, depend upon it." " It is strange she shouldn't have written to me on the sub- ject," said Randulph. " Most likely my brother imposed secrecy upon her," replied Trussell. " However, we must have a little talk together be lore her arrival. I must counsel you how to act at this juncture. Slie's an excellent creature, your mother. But it'll never do to be tied to the apron-string. Let us forget the matter now, and, adopting the old gentleman's advice, make the most of to-night." A boat conveyed them to h .merset Stairs, where they landed, and proceeded to Drury Lane Theatre. Randulph had resolved upon what course to pursue. The play was admirablv ])er- formed; but even the inimitable acting of Garrick and Mackliu failed to interest him, so much was he preoccupied. The comedy over, they adjourned to Tom's Coffee-house in Covent Garden, where abundance of company was assembled, plentifully besprinkled with blue and green ribands and stars. Trussell met a host of acquaintances, and framing a hasty excuse, Ran- dulph left him with them, and hurrying to Salisbury Stairs, took a boat, and ordered the waterman to row to Vauxliall. CHAPTER X. THE SUPPER AT VAUXHALL — BEAU VILLIERS' ATTEMPT TO CAEKt OFF HILDA DEFEATED BY RANDULPH. Celebrated throughout Europe, and once esteemed the most delightful place of recreation of the kind, Vauxhall Gardens have been in existence more than a century; and it rejoices us to find that they are not altogether closed. They were first opened with a ridotto al fresco, about the year 1730, and speedily rising to a high reputation, were enlarged, and laid out in the most superb manner. A magnificent orchestra, of Gothic form, ornamented with carving and niches, and provided with a fine organ, was erected in the midst of the garden. There was like- wise a rotunda, though not of equal dimensions with that of 186 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. Ranelagh, being only seventy feet in diameter, with a dome-likd roof, supported by four handsome Ionic columns, embelHshed with foliage at the base, while the shafts were M'reathed with a Gothic balustrade, representing climbing figures. From the centre depended a magnificent chandelier. A part of the rotunda, used as a saloon, was decorated with columns, between which v/cre paintings by Hayman. The entrance from the garden.*- ^vas through a Gothic portal. Moreover, there were pavilions oi -jlcoves, ornamented with paintings, from designs by Hogarth and Hayman, appropriate to the place ; each alcove having a iable in it capable of accommodating six or eight persons, and leading in an extensive sweep to a magnificent piazza, five hundred feet in length, of Chinese architecture. This semi- circle led to a further sweep of pavilions. A noble gravel walk nine hundred feet in length, bordered with lofty trees, and terminated by a broad lawn, in which there was a Gothic obelisk, faced the entrance. But the enchantment of the gardens commenced with the moment of their illumination, when upwards of two thousand lamps, lighted almost simulta- neously, glimmered through the green leaves of the trees, and ijhed their radiance on the fairy scene around. This was the grand charm of Vauxhall. One of its minor attractions was a curious piece of maciiincry representing a miller's house, a water-wheel, and a cascade, which, at that period of the art, was- thought quite marvellous. There were numberless walks and wildernesses in the grounds, and most of the vistas were adorned with statues. In one^^of them, at a date a little posterior to thi.- history, was a statue of Handel as Orpheus holding a lyre. It was nearly ten o'clock when Kandulph reached the gardens. He proceeded along the grand walk, which was brilliantly illuminated, and filled with company, as far as the obelisk, but he could see nothing of Sir Norfolk or Hilda. He then turned into one of the side walks, and approached the orchestra, in front of which stood Kitty Conway, ])reparing to sing. She instantly detected him, and made a slight movement of recogni- tion. As he passed the range of alcoves beneath the orchestra, he perceived Jacob, who instantly came towards him. " I've found it all out," said the porter — '' I knew I should. Air, Willars is the contriver of the plot. He means to carry ofi Miss Hilda, and has engaged a coach for that purpose, which is stationed at the back o' the gardens. Luckily, the coachman is a friend o' mine, and it's through him I've delected the scheme.'" " But where is your mistress ?" cried Randulph. "• There," replied Jacob, pointing to a party seated at suppei beneath the grove of trees in front of the orchestra. " I see," replied Randulph. " By Heaven !" he cried, " Mr. Villiers is coming this way. Two persons stop him. As I live,, one of them is his valet, and the other Captain Culpepper, a CiTuiCgt^wJ'^ The SuppeT at Vauxtiall THE miser's daughter. 187 fellow whom my uncle Tnissell told me was a sort of bravo, and would cut any man's throat for hire. Doubtless, they are plan- ning the abduction." " You may take your oath of it,N" replied Jacob. "I'll manage to get near 'em unobserved. Come back to this place when tlioy separate, and you shall know all." So saying, he slouched his hat over his ej'es, and mingling with the crowd, got within ear-shot of the beau, who, as has been intimated, was addressing Captain Culpepper and Mr. Cripps. llandulph, meanwhile, felt irresistibl}'^ drawn towards the table where Hilda was seated, and as he kept behind the trees, he was not noticed by the party, though he ivas noticed by Kitty Conway, from the orchestra, who, guessing his intention, was so much agitated, that, for the first time in her professional career, she made some false notes in her singing. Hilda's seat was placed against a tree. On her right was Sir Norfolk Salusburj^j and on the right of the baronet, Lady Brabazon ; next her lady- ship was a vacant chair — no doubt just quitted by Beau Villiers; then came Lady Fazakerly; then Sir Bulkeley Price; and, lastly, Clementina Brabazon, who occupied the seat on the left of the miser's daughter. Partly screened by the tree against which Hilda was seated, Randulph bent forward, and breathed her name in the gentlest accents. Hilda heard the whisper, and looking round, beheld the speaker. How much may be conveyed in a glance ! She read the intensity of his passion, and the depth of his devotion in his eyes ; and for the first time, returned his gaze with a look of kindness, almost of tenderness; Randulph was transported; he ^on\d not resist the impulse that prompted him to advance and take her hand, which she unresistingly yielded to him. All this was the work of a minute ; but the action had not been unobserved, either b}' Kitty Conway or Lady Brabazon. Both had felt a similar pang of jealousy, but revenge instantly occurred to the latter. Wliile Randulph was in the act of raising Hilda's hand to his lips, she touched Sir Norfolk's arm, and pointing in the direction of the lovers, whispered, '*' Look there !"" Sir Norfolk arose, and in a stern and peremptory voice, said to the young man, " Set free that lady's hand, sir!" " Not unless she chooses to withdraw it," replied Randulph. " I am wholly to blame for this. Sir Norfolk," said Hilda, withdrawing her hand, and blushing deeply. "You are pleased to say so. Miss Scarve," returned Sir Norfolk ; " but the young man has been guilty of a great inde- cornm, and I shall call him to a strict account for it." " I shall be ready to answer the call, whenever you please. Sir Norfolk," rejoined Randolph. " J5ut this is not the place for menaces. You will do well to look after your charge." 1S8 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " I shall take care to keep off impertinents like vou," rcjilicd Sir Norfolk. " Better g;nard her against other dantjcrs w>hicli require more penetration than you care to practise," retorted Randulph. " I have only one answer to make to such insolence," said Sir Norfolk, " and that shall be given to-morrow. You shall hear from me, Mr. Crew." '* As soon as you please. Sir Norfolk," replied Randulph. "For my sake, Mr. Crew," interposed Hilda, "let this cpiarrci go no further. I have been the innocent cause of it. Promise me it shall not." "I would willingly obey you in anything. Miss Scarve." replied Randulph; "but in this case it is not in my power. Farewell !"' Fixing one passionate look upon her, he then bowed haughtily to Sir Norfolk, who returned his salutation in kind, and withdrew. As he walked away, he encountered Beau Villiers, who was returning from his conference. Villiers started on seeing iiim, but instantly recovered himself, and would have addressed him, but Randulph turned abruptly away. " What the devil has brought Randulph Crew here ?" said Villiers to Sir Singleton, as he joined the party. " I thought he was at Drury Lane." "Devil knows!" cried the old beau. "But he has made a pretty scene." And he proceeded to relate what had occiuTed, Villiers laughed heartily at the recital. "Ihope old Salusbury will cut his throat," he said, in an under tone. " Why, it would be desirable to get him out of the way, certainlv," replied the old beau. " The women are all mad about him." " Especially Kitty Conway," observed Villiers. " Odds life ! this accounts for her having fainted in the orchestra. I wondered what could be the matter with her, but now I understand it. All is prepared," he added, in a deep whisper to Lady Brabazon. " Be careful how you act," she replied, in a low tone. " You'll find Sir Norfolk dangerous, and Randulph Crew is on the watch." " Fear nothing," he rejoined, "I've taken my measures securely. Make towards the dark walk, and contrive to lead him and tlic •others away." Lady Brabazon nodded. Soon after this she arose, and, without ceremony, took Sir Norfolk's arm, while Villiers very gallantly offered his to Hilda. The rest of the party paired off in like manner. Leading the way in the direction agreed upon, Lady Brabazon THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 1CI> expressed a desire to view the scenic representation of the mill and water-fall before mentioned, which was exhibited in a hollow of the groat walk ; and the}' proceeded towards it. Hilda was much displeased bv the assiduities of her companion, and she could not help remarking; that he contrived, on various pretences, ta linger behind the rest .of the party, and though she repeatedly urged him to rejoin them, he always made some excuse for not doing so. At last, on pausing longer than usual, they quite lost sight of them, and were hurrying forward at Hilda's urgent request, when, as they passed one of the side vistas, Mr. Cripps^ who was standing at the end of it, advanced towards his master. " Fortunately encountered, sir," said the valet, bowing ; "Lady Brabazon sent me to look for you, to tell 3'ou that she and the partv are gone down a walk on the left, to see a fine painting in the Chinese pavilion at the end of it. With your permission,, ril show you the way." " Oh, yes, let us go to them by all means," said Hilda, unsus- pectingly, " Lead on, then !" cried the beau, scarcely able to conceal his satisfaction at the success of the scheme. A few steps brought them to the end of a narrow walk, arched over by trees, the branches of which were so thickly interlacedy tliat the moonlight could not penetrate through them. Alarmed by its appearance, Hilda drew back. " How thoughtless of Sir Norfolk to leave me thus !" she exclaimed. " Why, you are surely not afraid of accom])any ing me down this walk, Miss Scarve," laughed the beau. " My valet is with us, and shall protect you. The Chinese pavilion is not more than a hundred yards off; and the walk, though dark, is not solitary." Fancying she perceived some persons within it, Hilda suffered herself to be led on ; but she had not advanced many steps when all her uneasiness returned, and she bitterly regretted having assented. But it was too late. The beau's grasp had tightened upon her arm, and he drew her quickly forward, while Mr. Cripps proceeded at the same rapid pace. Once or twice, she thought she heard footsteps behind her, and almost fancied she couh* distinguish a figure walking near them, but she did not dare ta express her terrors. They had proceeded, so far as she could judge, about a hundred yards, when a sudden turn in the walk disclosed a low hedge ; beyond was the open country, bathed in moonlight. Coming to a sudden halt, the beau said in a hurried, but imperative tone — " Miss Scarve, I love you to desperation, and am determined to make you mine. You are now in my power, and must accompany me." " Never!" replied Hilda, resolutely. " And I command you to release nie." 190 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. She would have screamed fur liclp, if Villiers, who grasped her more tightl}', had not taken out his handkerchief, and, placinjx it over her mouth, prevented her cries. While this was passinfi;, Captain Culpepper emerged from the trees, and hastened with Mr. Cripps towards him. "Bravo, sir," cried the Captain. " All goes well this time. We'll have her in the coach in a twinkling." " Not so fast, villains !" thundered Randulph, rushing forward. *' I have allowed you to go thus far to see to what lengths your villany would carry you. But you shall pay dearly for it." As he spoke, he rushed to the beau, and snatching Hilda from him, dashed him backwards with such force that he fell upon the ground. Another [)erson likewise came to the rescue. This was Jacob, who, brandishing his cudgel, hurried to the scene of action. On seeing him, the valet whipped out his blade, but it Avas beaten from his grasp, and he only avoided a terrible blow from the cudgel by a nimble leap aside. Without waiting for a second blow, he plunged into the wood, and made his escape. Captain Culpepper fared no better. Before he could draw his sword, he received a blow on the head, that stretched him senseless and bleeding on the ground. Hilda, meantime, had murmured her thanks to her deliverer, who felt, as he pressed her to his bosom, that the whole of his previous anxiet}^ was more than repaid by the unutterable joy of the moment. " Hilda !" he cried, passionately, " I would risk a thousand lives for you. Forgive me if, at this moment, I dare to ask if I may hope ?" She murmured a faint response in the affirmative. " I am the happiest of men !" cried llandulph, transported with delight. " Alas !" exclaimed Hilda, " my avowal can give you little happiness. I can never be yours." " There you speak truth !" cried Villiers, who by this time had regained his feet, and furiously approached them. " You never shall be his." " This is the leader of the gang !" cried Jacob, who having just disposed of Captain Culpepper, now rushed towards the beau, brandishing his cudgel in a formidable manner. " I'll soon settle him." " Leave him alone, Jacob !" cried Randulph, authoritatively ; his punishment belongs to me." " You're wrong, sir," rejoined Jacob, " but I sha'n't disobey you. He doesn't deserve to be treated like a gen'l'man." " Oblige me by stepping aside for a moment, Mr. Crew !" said the beau, with forced ])oliteness. And as Randulph complied, he added — " I shall expect satisfaction for the injury you have done me." "I might well refuse it," replied Randulph; " but I am too TIIF, MISER'S DAUGHTER. "'91 eager for vengeance myself to do so. You shall have the satisfaction you seek as soon as you please." " To-morrow morning, then, at the earliest hour — at five — in TothiU Fields," said Villiers. " I will be there," replied Randulph. And, quitting the beau, he rejoined Hilda, to whom he offered his arm. They walked down the avenue togetlier, Jacob follow- ing close beside them. Hilda allowed her hand to remain in his, while he poured the warmest protestations of attachment intolier car. She did not attempt to check him ; and perhaps it would be difficult to say which of the two felt the most regret when that brief dream of happiness was ended, as they emerged into the lighted vista. Almost immediately on entering the great walk, they met Sir Norfolk and Lady Brabazon and the rest of the party. Her ladyship was at first greatly confused at seeing Randulph, but she instantly guessed what bad happened, and tried to put a good face on the matter. Advancing to Hilda, she hastily inquired what had happened; but the latter turned coldly from her, and taking the arm of Sir Norfolk Salusbury, desired to be led home. " Your ladyship is perfectly aware of the peril in which I have been placed," she said. " But I have been delivered from it by the courage and address of Mr. Crew." " Before you go. Miss Scarve," said Lady Brabazon, " I be- seech you to give me some explanation of what has happened." " It must suffice, then, to say, that Mr. Villiers has attempted to carry me off," replied Hilda — " but his purpose has been defeated." , "What is this I hear!" cried Sir Norfolk. "Mr. Villiers guilty of so base an attempt? I will go in search of him instantly !" "I have undertaken the punishment of Mr. Villiers' offence, sir," said Randulph. " You have an account to settle with me yourself, sir," rejoined Sir Norfolk, sternly. " I will settle it at five o'clock to-morrow morning, in TothiU Fields," replied Randulph, in a low tone, " after I have arrant^cd with Mr. Villiers." " Be it so," replied Sir Norfolk. And he strode off with Hilda, followed by Jacob; while Ran- dulph, without staying to exchange a word with Lady Brabazon, walked away in the opposite direction. 192 Tin: miser's daughter. CHAPTER XI. lJ.VNDUr.rH WOKSTS BEAU VILLIERS IN A DUEL IX TOTHILL FIELDS; AXU IS ■\\ OUSTED HIMSELF IN A SECOND DUEL By SIK NORFOLK SALUSBURT. On quitting Vauxhall, Randiilph made the best of his way nonie, agitated by a crowd of tunuiltuous thoughts. Abel had retired to rest more than an hour ago, but Trussell was not yet come home. Telling Mr. Jukes, therefore, that he must see liis younger uncle directly, he set off again without a moment's delay, and taking a boat at Lambeth Stairs, rowed to the nearest point to Covcnt Garden. He then hurried to Tom's Cort'ec-house, Avhere he found his uncle at supper in a box by himself, and pro- ceeded to relate to him all that had occurred. " A pretty adventure!" exclaimed Trussell, at the close of the recital. An abduction prevented, and a couple of duels! I'm sorry I wasn't with you, tiiat I might have taken one of the kitter off your hands. It'll be a mortal conflict with the beau, fi'm glad you've had lessons from Hewitt. He told me himself, /not many days ago, that you were one of his best scholars, and /had as strong a wrist and as quick an eye as any man he knew.'* *' I have no fear of the result in either case," replied Randulph. *' I'm glad you're so confident," said Trussell ; " but neither of your antagonists are to be despised. Take a glass of punch — they brew famously here — well, as you please. We must make arrangements instanter. Our best ])lan will be to go to Hewitt, and tell him to be in the field with swords and a surgeon at the appointed hour." Em])tying the rummer of punch before him, he called to the drawer, paid him, and, taking his ne])hew's arm. they set forth. Mr. Hewitt lived in Leicester-street, Leicester-fields — now Lei- cester-square. He was in bed, but they soon knocked him up, end explaining their business, he entered upon it immediatel3^ " I will be sure to be on the ground at the time appointed, and will bring Mr. Molson, the surgeon, with me," said Hewitt. •• He will take care of you in case of accident. But I don't ap- prehend any such to you, because I know what you can do. You shall have my favourite German blade— here it is," he added, taking down a sword. " This is the strongest and lightest sword I ever handled, and equal to any Spanish tuck. Be sure you come coolly into the field. The best swordsman that ever fought will be worsted if he is in a passion. You'll need judg- ment as well as skill to-morrow, and take care you do not dis- order it in any way. Mr. Villiers is a very skilful fencer, but he is likely enough to be in a passion. As to Sir Norfolk, you will find him calm as death. He is a far more dangerous adver- sary than the other." THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 193 *' Far more dangerous," echoed Trussell. '* Sir Norfolk beinp; so much taller than yourself," pursued the fencing-master, " the best way when you intend to make a thrust at him will be to come to half sword, you will then be within distance. If you act on the defensive, engage only five inches, and keep him at that distance. You understand?" " Perfectly," replied Randulph. " The best thrust you can make at him will be seconde, or carte under the shell, or you may dart your sword as I have taught yon. And now I recommend you to go to rest. Think no more of the duel, but sleep soundly, and come to the field as fresh as a lark." llandul{)h smiled at the fencing-master's advice, and having arranged a meeting at the Horseferry, Westminster, opposite Lambeth Stairs, at half-past four o'clock, he took his departure with his uncle. They reached home in about half an hour, and Mr. Jukes expressed great delight at seeing them. It had been previously agreed, for fear of mistake, that Trussell should sit up all night, and call his nephew in sufficient time in the morning, and he therefore ordered Mr. Jukes to bring him a bottle of brandy, and a large jug of cold water. The butler obeyed, and took the opportunity of inquiring whether anything was the matter, but received no direct answer. On retiring to his own room, Randulph threw himself into a chair, and turned over the events of the day. Amid a multitude of dark and disagreeable thoughts, there was one that was bright ivnd cheering. He had seen Hilda — avowed his passion — and received an assurance that he was not indifferent to her. This thought buoyed him up, and made him regard with indifference the danger to which he was exposed. His most painful reflections were connected with his mother, and knowing the anguish she would experience if anything should happen to him, he sat down and wrote a letter, full of filial affection and tenderness, to be delivered to her in case of his fall. This done, he threw himself on his couch, but his mind was too much disturbed to allow him to sleep. Long before it was light, he arose and dressed himself, and when Trussell entered the room, he was on his knees at the bed- side, at prayer. On rising, he gave the letter he had written to the charge of his uncle, and they crept down stairs as softly as they could, for fear of disturbing any one in the house. They then proceeded to the dining-room, where Trussell swallowed a glass of brandy to keep the cold out of his stomach, and recom- mended his nephew to do the same to steady his hand, but the latter, doubting the efficacy of the prescription, declined it. Their hope of getting away proved fallacious, for as they entered the hall on their way to the outer door, they found Abel standing there, wrapped in his dressing-gown. o 194 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. " Randulph," he said, eyeinjr his nephew severely — "you arn goini^ to fight a duel. It is useless to deny it. I am sure you are." " I shall not attempt to deny it, sir," replied Randulph. " I am." " He is going to fight two duels, brother," said Trussell, em- boldened by the brandy he had just swallowed. " Two duels !" echoed Abel — " then he is doubly foolish — doubl}' culpable. Randulph, you are about to commit a very sinful, and very foolish action, and though you may be justified in what you do by the laws of honour, and the usages ot society, you will not be justified before Heaven." "Really, my dear sir," said Trussell, "you view this matter much too seriously." " Not a whit," replied Abel ; " Randulph might stop if he would. But he would rather run the risk of offending his Maker than man," " Uncle," said Randulph, " I cannot now argue with you ; but I have good reasons for what I am about lo do." " No reason can warrant bloodshed," said Abel, sternly. " Since you are deaf to my counsels, go. Yet think what a blow it will be to your mother, if she finds on her arrival that she has lost her son." " I have thought of that, uncle," replied Randulph ; " and I have left a letter with my uncle Trussell. Perhaps you will now permit me to commit its charge to you?" " Here it is, sir," said Trusseli, handing him the letter. " Time presses. We must be gone. We hope to be back again with you at breakfast, and to make a liearty and merry meal. We are quite sorry to have disturbed you. Good morning, sir." Abel threw a severe and disgusted look at him, and then turning to Randulph, pressed his hand affectionately, and said, "I hope I may see you at breakfast, and with no blood on your soul." And with these words, he walked away. " Devilish unlucky we should meet him 1" said Trussell, forcing a laugh, as they quitted the house. " I suppose Jukes must have suspected something, and called him up, for I don't think he could have overheard us." Randulph made no reply, for Abel's parting speech had sunk deep into his breast, and they proceeded in silence towards the palace stairs. It was a frosh and beautiful morning, though the sun was scarcely risen, and a thin silvery mist hung like a veil over the smooth surface of the water. Two or three watermen were lying asleep in their tilts, and they roused one of them, who speedily rowed them to the opposite bar^k, near which tbey ibund Mr. Hewitt, with two brace of swords under his arm, in THE miser's daughter. 10') addition to (ho one l)y his side, accompanied by a tall, stout nuin, with a red face, dressed in a well-powdered wig, and a suit of purple velvet, and carrying a gold-headed cane, who was intr(>- duced as Mr. Molson, the surgeon. " You look famously," said the fencing-master to Randulplx. " Follow my instructions, and you're sure to come off victo- riously." The party then walked along the Horseferry-road, which speedily brought them lo Tothill-fields. They were the first on the ground, and Mr. Hewitt, after looking about for a short tune, discovered a spot excellently adapted for the encounters. B3' this time, the sun having risen, the morning's early promise of beauty was fully confirmed. The spot selected for the combats commanded a fine view of Westminster Abbey, which reared its massive body and tall towers above a range of mean habitations masking its base. Cawing jackdaws in clouds wheeled in the sunny air above its pinnacles. A calmer or more beautiful scene could not be imagined. Randulph's rcllections were interrupted by the approach of two persons from the left of the fields, who proved to be Sir Norfolk Salusbury and Cordwell Firebras. Sir Norfolk bowed stiffly to Randulph, and also to Trussell, and seeing that the beau was not arrived, said to the former, " As I am first in the field, I am entitled to the first bout„" "I am sorry I cannot oblige yon. Sir Norfolk,'' replied Ran- dulph : " but I rimst give Mr. Villiers priority." " Well, as you please, sir," said the baronet, walking aside. Cordwell Firebras then advanced to Randulph. " I am here as Sir Norfolk's second," he said ; " but I hope the matter may only serve as a little breathing for you both before breakfast. It is an idle quarrel. We must talk about Villiers's attempt anon. But here he is." As he spoke, two chairs were seen approaching from the lower end of the fields. When they came within a nundred yards of the party, they stopped, and from tnc first issued Mr. Villiers, and from the other Sir Bulkeley Price. Mr. Cripps walked by the side of his master's chair, bearing a water-bottle and a glass. The new-coniers advanced slowly towards the party, and Mr. Villiers, having bowed with much haughtiness to Randulph, gracefully saluted the rest of the company. " Have we anything to w-ait for, gentlemen ?" he asked. " Nothing," replied Trussell ; " we are all ready." " To business, then," rejoined the beau. At a motion from his master, Mr. Cripps advanced towards him, and receiving his clouded cane, proceeded to divest him of his coat, leaving him on a light striped silk waistcoat, with sleeves of the same material. Randulph, meantime, threw off his upper garment, and rolled up the shirt sleeve on his right arm. Mr 02 196 THE MISKU'S DArCHTER. llewiti then stepped up to him, and ^ave liiin the German sv/ord he had promised; while Mr. Villiers received an exquisitely tempered blade from the valet. These preparations made, the seconds and bystanders fell back a few paces, Trussell, Firebras, and Hewitt standing on one side, and the two baronets on the other, while the surgeon stood at a little distance in the rear with Mr. Cripps. Advancing towards each other, the combatants saluted, and in another moment their blades were crossed, and several rapid passes exchanged. The spectators watched the conflict with the greatest interest, for both parties appeared admirably matched, and the beau's superior skill was counterbalanced by Randulph's extraordinary vigour and quickness. Thrusts were made and parried on both sides, but not a single hit was given, until Ran- dulph, finding his adversary engaged in tierce with a high point, made a firm thrust in carte over the arm, and passed his sword through the fleshy part of the other's shoulder. At this suc- cessful hit, the seconds rushed forward, but before they reached the spot, the beau's sword fell from his grasp. " It is nothing," said Villiers, surrendering himself to the sur- geon, who likewise hurried towards him; "but I acknowledge myself defeated." While the beau's wound was bound up by the surgeon, and he was led to the chair by Mr. Cripps, Sir Norfolk Salusbury, who had been a watchful spectatoi of the conflict, stepped for- ward, and said to Randulph, " Whatever may be the issue of our encounter, Mr. Crew, I- shall declare that in the combat which has just taken place, you have conducted yourself like a juan of honour and spirit." " I am glad to receive the acknowledgment from you. Sir Norfolk," replied Randulph, bowing. " Pray do not hurry yourself on my account," said the baronet, courteously. "I am quite ready for you," replied Randulph. "What I have gone through has only served to steafly my nerves." With the assistance of Firebras, who had come over to him. Sir Norfolk then took off his coat, waistcoat, and shirt, and in this state presented so extraordinary an appearance, that Ran- dulph could scarcely repress a smile. The punctilious old knigiit's first step was to deliver his sword to Mr. Hewitt, who, on measuring it with that of Randulph, found that it exceeded the latter in length by two inches. He therefore gave him one of his own swords, and Sir Norfolk beating an appeal with his right foot, bade his youthful opponent come on. Having gone through their salutes with the greatest formality, ihey commenced the combat with the utmost caution. Sir Nor- folk acted chiefly upon the defensive, and contented himself almost entirely with parrying the thrusts aimed at him. Ran- '^^ (vUryil. Gnu/k/S/UkOdi't—-^ Tlie Duel to Totbi:il fields THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 197 dnlph soon found that he had a formidable antafronist to deal with, and altering his plan, tried to compel him to attack him. He made several feints with great dexterity, and just touched his adversary's breast with an inside thrust in carte, causing a slight effusion of blood. This had the effect of rousing the old baronet into exertion, and in his turn he became the assailant. He attacked Randulph with such force and fury, that he drove him back several paces. The young man returned to the charge, and pressed his adver- sary in his turn, so that he regained his ground; but while making a pass in carte, his sword was turned near the wrist by a dexterous and sudden lunge on the part of the baronet, whose ])oint entered his side below the elbow, and inflicted a severe wound. Maddened by the pain, Randulph continued to fight despe- rateh', but the seconds rushed between the combatants, and interposing their blades, declared that the strife must terminate, and that Sir Norfolk was the victor. The baronet immediately dropped his sword, and Randulph, whose strength had been fast failing, fell to the ground insensible. Hyri) OF TOE SECOND POOK. BOOK THE THIRD. ABEL BEECHCROET. CHAPTER I. WHAT BECAME OF RANDULPH AFTER THE DUEL — HOW HILDA RECEIVED THE INTELLI- GENCE THAT RANDULPH HAD BEEN WOUNDED IN THE DUEL ; AND WHAT PASSED BETWEEN CORDWELL FIREBRAS AND THE MISER. Assistance was promptly afforded Randnlph, after his fall, by the surgeon. Placed in Sir Biilkeley Price's chair, he was re- moved to the nearest tavern in the Horseferry-road, where his wound was dressed. Sir Norfolk Salnsbury, who expressed great concern about him, followed him thither as soon as he had bound up his own wound, and put on his habiliments, and appeared greatly relieved when the surgeon gave him his positive assurance that no danger whatever was to be apprehended. "Is that Sir Norfolk Salnsbury?" asked Randulph, in a faint ^oice. " It is," replied the old baronet, stepping forward. "Our quarrel is now at an'end, I trust?" said the young man, extending his hand, which the other grasped cordially. ''In toto," replied Sir Norfolk; "and not merely is it at an end, but a friendship, I hope, has commenced between us from this date." " I shall hold it cheaply ])urchased on my part, if it proves so," replied Randulph, smiling gratefully. "My first business shall be to call on Hilda Scarve, to tell her how bravely you have combated in her defence," said Sir Norfolk. "You will for ever oblige me," replied the young man, trying to raise himself, but sinking back the next moment, exhausted by the effort. "I must interdict further conversation, gentlemen," interposed the surgeon ; " the bleeding has recommenced, and the pulse has risen. If I am left alone with my patient for a few hours, I will answer for his doing well, but not otherwise." The room was then cleared, and Sir Norfolk invited the others to breakfast with him at his lodgings in Abingdon-street ; and Trussell, finding that his attendance was not required, but that he was rather in the way than otherwise, accepted the invitation. Everything belonging to Sir Norfolk was as formal as himself. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 199 He had an old servant, the stiffest and tallest of his class, who moved hke an automaton worked by nisty springs. Moreover, he had a favourite old greyhound, who would allow no one to caress him but his master ; and a peacock, his especial favourite, which used to strut backwards and forwards with him for hours together m a little garden at the back of the house. Inhospitality formed no part of the worthy old baronet's character, and a very plentiful repast was set before his guests. Despising tea and coffee as effeminate and enervating beverages, he nevertheless offered them to his guests, but they were declined by all, and the light chvret substituted, greatly preferred. A few bottles of this pleasant drink served to wash down the broiled salmon, the slices of mutton-ham, the rump-steaks, the kidneys, and anchovy toasts, with which the board was spread. A cold sirloin of beef, and a veal and ham pasty, flanked by a tankai'd of stout Welsh ale, stood on the sideboard, and to these Sir Bulkeley Price applied himself, and declared he had not made so good a breakfast since he arrived in town. '• Your early rising has given you an appetite, Sir Bulkeley," said the elder baronet. " Perhaps so," replied the other, again applying to the tankard; *' but your ale is excellent — quite equal to my own. I wish I had sent some up from Flint." Aqua vita? in small glasses was then handed round, and partaken oT by all except the host. After this, the party broke up, Trussell settmg out to see how his nephew went on, and Sir Norfolk and Firebras proceeding to the Little Sanctuary, to call on the miser. Not having seen his daughter over night, for he did not wait up for her, Mr. Scarve only became acquainted with the beau's attempt to carry her off on the following morning. The relation of the matter exasperated hmi in the highest degree, and when Sir Norfolk Salusbury and Firebras were ushered in by Jacob, they found him in a state of great excitement. Without allow- ing the baronet time to utter a word, he rushed up to him, and, in a voice half choked by fury, exclaimed^-" Have you killed him ? — have^^ou killed him ?" "Do you allude to Mr. Randulph Crew, sir?" demanded Sir Norfolk, calmly. " No, to the beau — to Villiers !" rejoined the miser. " I have not enijaged with him," replied the old bachelor; " but he has met with due chastisement from Mr. Lrew. "I am glad to hear it," rejoined the miser ; " but I should have been better pleased if his villany had been punished by any other person. You, yourself, are in some measure to blame for this misadventure. Sir Norfolk." " I can make due allowance for your excited feelings, Mr. Scarve," returned the baronet ; " but — " "'Sdcath, sir!" interrupted the miser; "why did you let Hilda 200 THE miser's daughter. out of your sight ? Since you undertook the charge of her, it was your duty to keep strict watch over her." " I feel there is reason in what you say, Mr. Scarve," replied Sir Norfolk ; " nevertheless — " "I want no explanation," cried the miser, fiercely; "it is sufficient for me that the thing has happened ; and look how it stands. My daughter is entrusted to your care — is all but carried off by a libertine, from under your very nose — and is rescued by the very person of all otliers I wished her to avoid, and against whom I cautioned you. Can anything be imagined more vexatious ?" " It is as vexatious to me as it can be to yourself, Mr. Scarve,** replied Sir Norfolk, sternly, for his forbearance was fast waning ; " but I must beg of you to use more moderation in your tones and language. llecoUect whom you are addressing." " I ought to have recollected your blindand stupid punctilious- ness, which so easily makes you the dupe of designers, before I committed my daughter to your charge," cried the miser, provoked by the other's haughtiness. " Whew !" exclaimed Firebras, with a slight whistle. " There'll be another duel presently if he goes on at this rate." '•' Mr. Scarve, I wish you a good morning,"' said the old baronet, bowing stiffly, "you shall hear from me ere long." "Slay, Sir Norfolk !" cried Hilda, rushing up to him; "my , father does not know what he says. For my sake, let it pass." " Ay, ay. Sir Norfolk, let it }^ass," whispered Firebras. " Mr. Scarve's intemperate conduct should move your pity rather than your anger." " I believe you are right, sir," replied the old baronet, in the same tone ; " I will regard it as a mere infirmity of temper." " Sir Norfolk," said Hilda, speaking with forced calmness — "some menacing words passed between yon and Randulph Crew, last night. You say he has risked his lite on my account, and has pimished my assailant. I trust that nothing has passed, or may Dass, between you and him ? Promise me this, Sir Norfolk." " Sir Norfolk may safely give that promise now," remarked Firebras. *' How mean you, sir," cried Hilda, becoming as pale as death, ** Have you met him. Sir Norfolk ! — have you fought ?" The old baronet averted his head. " I will answer for him," said Firebras — " they have met." " But nothing has happened ?" cried Hilda. " Randu!j)h Is safe, — is he not ?" " I did my best not to touch him," replied the old banmct, reluctantly ; " but he put me so hardly to it, that — that — " " Well "!" cried Hilda, breathlessly. " After receiving a scratch myself, which a plaster has cured,'* pursued Sir Norfolk, " I slightly wounded him." . THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 201 ** And this is the reward of his devotion to iiic !" cried Hildn. "It is nothing — nothing whatever, Miss Scarve," rejoined Firebras; "the surgeon says he will be out again in a week." "lam glad you hit him," said the miser; "it will teach him to meddle where he has no concern in future." " I was grieved to do so," replied Sir Norfolk ; " but he forced me to it. I never crossed swords with a braver joung man. You have formed an erroneous opinion of him, Mr. Scarve." " I have formed no opinion of him at all," rejoined the miser. "You are sure he is not dangerously wounded^ Sir Norfolk?'' cried Hilda. " Quite sure," replied the old baronet. " Thank Heaven !" she exclaimed. And with a gasp for utter- ance, she fell into the arms of her aunt, who stood close beside her, and who bore her out of the room. " It requires no conjurer to tell how affairs stand in that quarter. Mr. Scarve," observed Cordwell Firebras. "It is plain she loves the young man," said Sir Norfolk — " and for my own part I think him in every way worthy of her." " Worthy or not, he shall never have her," returned the miser,, sullenly. ^ " It is not for me to dictate to you, Mr. Scarve," rejoined Sir Norfolk; " nor would I presume to hint the course I think you ought to pursue ; but being satisfied that your daughter's affec- tions are engaged to this young man, unless your objections to him are insuperable, I hope you will not interfere with their happiness." " My objections to him are insuperable. Sir Norfolk," rejoinedl the miser, coldly. "I am truly sorry to hear it," replied the old baronet. " Excuse me. Sir Norfolk," said Firebras, seeing that the other was about to take leave, " I have a few words' to say to Mr fecarve. Sir Norfolk then bowed, quitted the room, and was ushered to the door by Jacob. While this was passing, Cordwell Firebras drew a stool towards the chair which the miser had just taken. "I presume, Mr, Scarve, there are no eavcs-droppers ?" he- said, glancing at the door. " I hope not," replied the miser, who eyed him with groat repugnance; "but if you have any secret matters to discuss, yoa had better speak in a low tone." "Very well," resumed Firebras, complying with the hint» "we must have a little talk together about this youno; man — this Randulph Crew," " I guessed what was coming," groaned the miser. " You cannot now mistake your daughter's partiality for him/'' 202 THE miser's daughter. pursued Fircbras ; " and on the other hand, I can tell you that he is devotedly attached to her." " Likely enough," replied the miser; "but I will never con- sent to his union with her." " You must consent if I require you to do so," said Firebras, coldly. Tiie miser moved uneasily in his chair. " You will not pretend to dispute my power to compel you to give her to him ?" pursued Firebras. " I have but to produce a certain paper that you know of, and she is his." " Not so fast," rejoined the miser. " You hold this document in terrorem over me — but how if I resist it ?" " You cannot resist it," replied Firebras — " you have bound yourself too strongly. Let me remind you of the packet delivered to you by llandulph Crew. Your daughter, too, will side with me. I have only to acquaint her with certain facts, and you well know what the consequences will be." " Well, take her," cried the miser — " take her, — but you will have her without a penny." " Scarcely so," rejoined Firebras. " Randulph shall have her, and shall also have the fortune you agreed to settle upon her." " 1 agreed to give her to the son of a man of fortune, and to make a settlement upon her corresponding with his property," said the miser; " but this young man has nothing." " I have something to say on that head," rejoined Firebras. *' Randulph, you are aware, assigned his own life-interest in the entailed property to his father's* creditors." "I know it — I know it," said the miser, hastily; "more fool he for doing so." " But do you know who those creditors are ?" said Firebras. " No," replied the miser ; " do you ?" " I do," replied Firebras, smiling significantly; "and I know, moreover, how the property might be recovered from them." "Lideed!" exclaimed the miser, staring at him. " What should you say if Randulph were again to be put in possession of his estates, and three thousand a year?" pursued Firebras. " Would you then feel disposed to fulfil your engage- ment ?" " It would make a material dificrencc, certainly," said the miser. " But you are merely saying this to try me." "No such thing," rejoined Firebras; "I am perfectly serious. Now mark me, Mr. Scarve. A lew thousand pounds will settle the matter with tb.ese creditors, and Randulph's property will be unincumbered." " And you will advance those few thousand pounds for him, of course?" said the miser, drily. " No ; you will," returned Fu'ebras. " It will be your interest to do so. THE miser's daughter. 203 ** Hum 1" exclaimed the other. " If he espouses your daughter, he must espouse the Jacobite cause also," pursued Firebras ; " that we must both insist upon. His motlier will be in town to-day, and we shall have her to back us." ^ ^ " You lay out your schemes very fairly," said the miser; " but I am persuaded they will fall to the ground. Prove to me that Randulph can regain his property; and let me hear from his own li[)s an avowal that he will join our party, and I then may begin to think of giving my consent." "It shall be my business to do so," replied Firebras; "and now, good morning. Most likely I may call again in the evening.' And putting on his hat, he took his departure without sum- moninn; Jacob. CHAPTER II. MRS. CREW HER SOLICITUDE ABOUT HER SON ; AND HER CONVERSATION' WITH ABEL. In tlie course of the afternoon, Randulph was transported to his uncle's house at Lambeth. He was feverish and restless, and kept constantly inquiring after his mother, declaring he was sure she had arrived, but was purposely kept out of his sight. An opiate having been administered, he presently began to expe- rience its eft'ects, and sank into a profound slumber, from which he did not awake till late in the following day. When he opened his eyes, he found the surgeon seated by his bedside, feeling his pulse. " You are wonderfully better, and wholly free from fever, sir," said Mr. Molson ; " and if you can promise me to keep all emotion under control, I think I may yield to the entreaties of one who is most anxious to see you." "My mother r exclaimed Randulph. "Ah! admit her by all means. Her presence will calm, rather than excite me." " I am not quite so sure of that," hesitated Molson ; " how- ever, I will risk it." And, quitting the room, he returned the next moment and introduced Mrs. Crew, who uttered a slight cry, and would have rushed forward, but he detained her, whispering, — " Remember your promise, madam. It was only on the understanding that you would mauitain your composure that I allowed you to see him." Thus cautioned, Mrs. Crew softly approached the bed, and taking the liand which her son extended to her, pressed it to her lips. She said nothing, but her bosom heaved quickly, and Ilandulph felt the hot tears falling fast upon his hand. 204 THE miser's daughter. " Do not distress yourself, dearest mother," he said ; " I am ah'eady so well that if this gentleman would allow me. I could get up." *'Your son is doing exceedingly well, madam," said Mr. Molson, significantly; "and if we pay him due attention, he may leave his bed in three or four days." Roused by this remark, Mrs. Crew looked up, and fixed a glance full of inexpressible tenderness and affection upon her son. Though her countenance bore traces of much sorrow and anxiety, siie was still a very handsome woman, and had a tall, fine figure ; full as became her years, yet not so full as to interfere with the gracefulness of its proportions. She was two years younger than Trnssell, being just forty-four, and might have been thought much younger, but for the care-worn expression above men- tioned, which, while it added age to her features, lent interest to them at the same timtf. Her lineaments strikingly resembled those of her son, but were more delicately formed, and her eyes were blue, large, and of the purest water. She was dressed in deep mourning, of simple material, .and wore her own hair, originally of a bright and beautiful brown, but now mingled with grey. Charms such as Mrs. Crew possessed, must, it is scarcely neces- sary to say, have won her many admirers when they were at their })est ; and some four-and-twenty years ago, she was sought on all liands, and had many brilliant alliances fn-oposed to her ; but her heart was early engaged to him to whom she was eventually united; and she continued true to-his memory, for though two of her old admirers found her out in her widowhood, and renewed the proposals made in the meridian of her attractions, and though both these offers were advantageous, while her own worldly cir- cumstances, as has been shown, were so much reduced as almost to justify a marriage of convenience, both were unhesitatingly rejected. Mrs. Crew partook of the good qualities of both her brothers; possessing the sound judgment and kindliness of Abel, without his asperity, and much of the good nature, without the worldli- ness of Trupsell. Throughout the whole of her married life, her conduct had been exemplary. Devotedly attached to her hus- band, she strove, by the care which she paid to the manage- ment of the affairs entrusted to her, to make up in some degree for his extravagance ; and though she was unable entirely to ac- complish her object, she did nmch to retard his progress towards ruin. Mr. Crew was one of those persons, who, whatever their fortune, will live beyond it. Warm-hearted, and hospitable, he ke\it open house, a dozen hunters, twice as many servants, a pack of hounds, and was not over particular in the choice of his asso- ciates. The consequence was, that he speedily became embar- rassed, and, instead of retrenching, raised money in the readiest THE MISER'S DATjGIITEU. 205 way he conld, and lived liarder and more recklessly than ever. He was fond of horse-racing and cock-figlitin<2:, and though by no means a gambler, frequently lost more at play than a prudent gentleman would care to lose. As Randulph grew up, he per- ceived the necessity of retrenchment, and, for nearl}' a year, decidedly changed his mode of life. But he was not adapted by nature to follow up such a course with perseverance. Long before the year was over, he began to find his plans of economy irksome, and at the end of it, launched into his old expenses. About this time, some designing persons got hold of him. Advances were made on most usurious terms, and he soon became inextricably involved. For the last two years of his life, he drank hard, discontinued most of the healthful exercises to wdiich he had been accustomed, seldom hunted, and amused hnuself chiefly with bowling. This fatal course soon began to tell upon liim. Tlie infirmities of age came on before their time, and he died under fifty, with every appearance of an old man. On examination, his affairs were foimd frightfully embarrassed, and Randulph, who had just come of age, having stated his inten- tions to his father before his death, and obtained his mother's assent to the arrangement, assigned the whole of the entailed property to the creditors, retaining only for himself what would Fjarely afford him the means of living. Mrs. Crew, it has been stated, had a small separate property of her own, settled upon her by her father at the time of her marriage; but, between mother and son, they had not now in hundreds a year, what Mr. Crew had once had in thousands. Throughout all the trying circumstances above narrated, Mrs. (.rew^ had conducted herself admirably. She never irritated her husband with reproaches, nor wearied him with advice, which her good sense told her would be unavailing ; but assisted him as far as \vas in her power, and cheered him in his distresses, taking care not to let her own affliction be apparent. At no time did she ever complain of him, even to her brothers. Indeed, she did not complain of ill-treatment, for Mr. Crew was sincerely attached to her, and but for his imprudence, they might have been as happy a couple as ever lived. The sweetness and amiability of her disposition was evinced on all occasions, but never so strongly as during the last two years of her husband's life, when his debilitated constitution, and pressing cares im- paired his naturally good temper, and rendered him fretful, and impatient of trifles. The tenderest attachment subsisted between Randulph and his mother. Always treated with confidence, he had no reserve from her, but regarded her in the light both of a parent and friend. Mrs. Crew remained nearly an hour by her son's bedside, gazing at him, and answering the questions he put to her about 20G THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. her journey ana other matters, as briefly as possil)le ; for, in compliance with the surgeon's injunctions, she avoided anything Hke continuous discourse. At length, discerning some slight symptoms of fatigue about him, she pressed his hand softly, and quitted the room. On going down stairs, she proceeded to the library, where she found her brothers. Trussell anxiously inquired how she had left the patient. " He is doing well, I believe," she replied ; " but oh 1 brother, what a meeting has this been ! I trust it is the last duel he will ever be enfjaged in." " I think he has come off famousl}'," rephed Trussell. " I called to inquire after Villiers last night, and I understand he is likely to be laid up for a fortnight at the least." " I am glad to hear it," observed Abel ; " and I wish from my heart that Randulph's wound had been more severe." "Oh, brother! why such a wish as that?" exclaimed Mrs. Crew. "Because I would have his first duel his last, sister," said Abel. "I entirely disapprove of the practice of duelling, and think it utterly opposed to the religious principles we profess." " The duel is a necessity imposed upon society," said Trussell, " and, in my opinion, never can be dispensed with, unless a total revolution takes place in our manners and habits. It is the only check that holds certain characters in restraint, and though the practice may be carried too far, and swords be drawn on trifling- occasions, a great good is accomplished by the recognition and mamtenance of a code of honour, to which all gentlemen must subscribe, and any infraction of which involves the loss of social position. Moralists may preach as they please, but as long as society is constituted as it is at present — as long as such men as Villiers exist — duelling must and will prevail." " There are other modes of avenging an injury besides vio- lence," replied Abel ; " and I trust society, in some more en- lightened age, will fix such a brand upon the evil-doer, that it shall be in itself sufficient punishment for his offence. As we are now circumstanced, it may be impossible for a gentleman to avoid a quarrel; but he should never voluntarily seek it." "I am bound to say, in Randulph's justification," rejoined Trussell, "since you both view the matter in so grave a light, and I say it advisedly, that he has acted throughout this affair as becomes a gentleman and a man of honour. Such is the opinion of both his adversaries — and such is my own opinion. You have reason to be proud of him, Sophia." " I once thought so," she replied, sadly. " And, believe me, he has done nothing to forfeit your good opinion," rejoined Trussell ; " but much that should raise it." " I am not alone annoyed ^t the duels," said Abel " but at the THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 207 cause of them. It was my particular wish that Randulph should avoid Hilda Scarve — my expressed wish ; and now he has been so circumstanced with her, that any feeling he might entertain towards her will be greatly strengthened. Trussell, you have laid up for your charge a great store of unhappiness. He will soon be cured of the wound he has received in this encounter, — but will his passion for Hilda be equally soon cured?" "That is impossible to say," replied Trussell; *'some men easily get over a disappointment in love." " And others, never !" rejoined Abel, bitterly. "I meant no allusion to you, sir," cried Trussell, reddening, — " none whatever." " Nor did I suspect 3'ou of doing so," returned Abel; "but if Uandulph loves sincerel}^ he will feel the blow to his dying day." " An if he does love sincerely, brother, why — oh I why — inter- fere between him and the object of his affections?" said Mrs. Crew. "I do not interfere with him — God forbid I should do so!'* rejoined Abel. "Let him marry Hilda, if he will. Let him obtain her father's consent, if he can." " But will you give your consent, brother?"' cried Mrs. Crew\ " No !" replied Abel, emphatically, " I will not. I told him, when I first saw tliis girl, to avoid her on pain of my displeasure. He has disobeyed me, and must take the consequences. But what matters my consent? I will have nothing to do with the affair. I wash my hands of it altogether. I have my own reasons, which suffice to mj^self, for objecting to the union; but I will not be placed in a painful and ungracious position, and be compelled to oppose it. I will have nothing to do with it — nothing whatever." " Randulph will incur your displeasure if he marries Hilda, will he not?" asked Mrs. Crew. " Most assuredly," replied Abel ; " I will never see him or her again. I will not be pressed to assign a reason for this determination ; nor will I say more than I have done. I wish him to be wholly uninfluenced by me. Neither will I have it said that I have interfered with his happiness." " And yet, believe me, it will be both said, and felt so, brother," rejoined Mrs. Crew^ " Beware, lest you inflict a blow upon your nephew as severe as that you have endured yourself" Abel uttered a sharp cry and walked away, while Trussell looked at his sister to intimate she had gone too far. She instantly arose, and going up to Abel, took his hand, nor did he withdraw it from her. " Pardon me, brother," she said, " if I have spoken what is painful to you; but I am anxious to spare you further affliction I know, though you have tried to case your heart in armour of proof, how tender it is — how readily wounded. I have wept foj 208 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. voiir unhappy lot, and would do all in my power to avert further