ic-NiU;!;
- n
/^
% j -^ ^A&yfcg
S
^
ill PALIN EVANS
-
/
yr
**
X'
v *.'X V
; 'T )
/X
v <
> -\/
^,
&
rVs
THE
MISER'S DAUGHTER
AINSWORTH'S NOVELS.
The Sao Edition, with all tlie Original Illustrations ly
GBOKGK CRUIKSIIANK, SIR JOIIN GILBERT, R.A.,
II. K. BROWXE, and others.
THE TOWER OF LONDON.
THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.
ou> ST. PAUL'S.
WINDSOR CASTLE.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
GUY FAWKES.
JACK SIIEPPARD.
BOOKWOOD.
THE STAR CHAMBER.
CRICHTON.
MEKVVN CL1THEROE.
THE SPENDTHRIFT.
BOSCOBKL.
OVINGDEAN GRANGE.
THE FLITCH OF BACON.
AURIOL.
955
TO
i
MY THREE DEAR DAUGHTERS,
FANNY, EMILY MARY, AND BLANCHE,
3 offer tljis 2EaIe.
W. H. A.
457
CONTENTS.
23ook tfje jpirst
CHAPTER I.
VAGI
TOE MISER'S DWELLING IN THE LITTLE SANCTUARY OPPOSITE NEIGHBOURS
PETER POKEK1CH AND THE FAIR THOMASINE JACOB POST RANDULPH CREW. 1
CHAPTER II.
THE MISER AND HIS DAUGHTER RANDULPH DELIVERS THE PACKET TO TUB
FORMER ITS RECEPTION 10
CHAPTER IIL
THE BROTHERS BEECHCROFT MR. JUKES THE ARRIVAL THE WALK IN SAINT
JAMES'S PARK RANDULPH' s INTRODUCTION TO BEAU VILLIERS AND LADY
BRABAZON 17
CHAPTER IV.
ADEL BEECHCROFT'S SENSIBILITY ins INSTRUCTIONS TO MR. JUKES A SECOND
NEPHEW THE LOAN MB. CRIPPS's SENSE OF HONOUR THE BRIBE 25
CHAPTER V.
ABEL AGAIN CAUTIONS HIS NEPHEW AGAINST THE MISER'S DAUGHTER 34
CHAPTER VI.
THE MISEB 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 '12
CHAPTER VIII.
THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER THE LANDLORD OF THE ROSE AND CROWN -CORDWELL
FIREBRAS 47
CHAPTER IX.
THE STRANGER AT THE BARBER'S 53
CHAPTER X.
THE BEAU'S LEVEE THE BREAKFAST THE EMBARKATION FOR THE FOLLY 68
viii CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XI.
*AG
THE MISER'S CONSULTATION WITH HIS ATTORNEY JACOB ALARMED BY HIS
MASTER'S APPEARANCE AT NIGHT THE VISIT OP CORDWELL FIREBRAS 65
CHAPTER XII.
HILDA'S INTERVIEW WITH ABEL BEECHCROFT 73
CHAPTER XIII.
THE FOLLY ON THE THAMES KITTY CONWAY RANDULPH PLACED IN AN
AWKWARD SITUATION BY PHILIP FREWIN 73
CHAPTER XIV.
BANDULFH'S INTERVIEW WITH CORDWELL FIREBRAS IN THE CLOISTERS OP
WESTMINSTER ABBEY 83
CHAPTER XV.
MRS. CLINTON'S ALARM THE MISER'S UNEXPECTED RETURN THE DISAPPEAR-
ANCE OF THE MORTGAGE MONEY EFFRONTERY OF PHILIP FREWIN AND
DIGGR 85
CHAPTER XVI.
LADY HRABAZON DEPOSITS HER DIAMONDS WITH THE MISER GALLANTRY OF
THE LATTER HE DISCOVERS THE CONTRIVER OF THE ROBBERY OF THE
MORTGAGE MONEY 94
CHAPTER XVII.
MR. CRIPPS'S ALARMING INTELLIGENCE RANDULPH'S INTRODUCTION TO THE
JACOBITE CLUB SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURY AND FATHER VERSELYN THE
TREASONABLE TOAST DANGEROUS POSITION OF KANDULPH HIS FIRMNESS
PUNCTILIOUSNESS OF SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURY 100
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE JACOBITE CLUB SURPRISED BY THE GUARD THE FLIGHT AND I 1 UK SUIT
MR. CRTl'I'S'K TREACHERY HIS REFLECTIONS 107
CHAPTER XIX.
KR. JUKES'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.
4BEL*S INTERVIEW WITH THE MISER UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE OF RANDULPH
AND COED'.VELL FIREBRAS RESULT OF THE MEETING 121
CONTENTS. 11
ii)e
CHAPTER I.
APPEARANCE AFTER HIS DEBAUCH HE PROCEEDS WITH RANDUI.PH
TO LADY BRABAZON'S THE PARTY GO TO MARYLEBONE GARDENS 128
CHAPTER II.
MRS. NETTLESHIP MR. CRIPPS PERSONATES HIS MASTER MARYLEBOfc'E GAR-
DENSMR, naipps DETECTED 132
CHAPTER III.
A MAN-OF-TI IK-WORLD'S ADVICE ON A MATTER OF THE HEART THE VISIT TO
THE HAYMARKET THEATRE, AND THE SUPPER AFTERWARDS WITH KITTY
CONWAY RANDULPH AGAIN AWKWARDLY CIRCUMSTANCED WITH HILDA ... 139
CHAPTER IV.
BANDULPH'S CAREER OF GAIETY ABEL'S REMARKS UPON IT TO MR. JUKKS... 149
CHAPTER V.
BANDUI.PII 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.'AS
PREVENTED THE MISER BURIES HIS TREASURE IV THE CELLAR 155
CHAPTER VII.
HJt PROGRESS OF MR. CRIPPS's LOVE AFFAIR MR. BATHBONE APPEARS ON
THE SCENE STRATAGEM OF THE VALET MR. JUKES VISITS THE WIDOW... 164
CHAPTER VIII.
IHE MASQUERADE AT BANKLAGH, WITH THE VABIOUS INCIDENTS THAT OCCURRED
AT IT 168
CHAPTER IX.
JACOB BRINGS A PIECE OF INTELLIGENCE TO RANDULPH TRUSSELL AND RAN-
DULT.'I GO TO DBURY LANE _ 181
CHAPTER X.
THE SUPPER AT VAUXHALL BEAU VILLIERS' ATTEMPT TO CARRY OFF HILDA
DEFEATED BY BANDULPH 185
CHAPTER XI.
BANDULPH WORSTS BEAD VILLIERS is A DUEL IN TOTHILL FIELDS; AND is
WORSTED HIMSELF IN A SECOND DUEL BY SIB NORFOLK SALUSBURY 102
CONTENTS
23oofc tjjc
CHAPTER I.
THAT BECAME OP BANDULPH AFTER THE DUEL HOW HILDA RECEIVED THB
INTELLIGENCE THAT RANDULPH HAD BEEN WOUNDED IN THE DUEL; AND
WHAT PASSED BETWEEN CORDWELL FIREBRAS AND THE MISER 193
CHAPTER II.
MRS. CUEW HER SOLICITUDE ABOUT HER SON J AND HER CONVERSATION WITH
ABEL i 203
CHAPTER III.
DETAILING THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN CORDWELL FIREBRAS AND MRS. CREW... 213
CHAPTER IV.
TREATS OP THE MISER*S ILLNESS ; AND OP THE DISCOVERY OF THE MYSTE-
BIOUS 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 LADY
BRABAZON HE RECEIVES A NOTE FROM KITTY CONWAY, AND IS ASSAULTED
BY PHILIP FREWINAND HIS MYRMIDONS ON HIS WAY TO SUP WITH HER... 226
CHAPTER VI.
BY WHAT DEVICE PHILIP FKEWIN GOT OFF ; AND HOW RANDULPH AND TRU3SELI,
WERE LOCKED UP IN THE WATCH-HOUSE 234
CHAPTER VII.
KITTY CONWAY AND THE LITTLE BARBER PLAY A TRICK UPON THE FAIR
THOMASINE SIR SINGLETON SPINKE IS DELUDED INTO A MARRIAGE WITH
THB PRETTY ACTRESS AT TEE FLEET
CHAPTER VIII.
OF THE VISIT OP PHILIP FREWIN AND DIGGS TO THE MISER, AND WHAT THEY
OBTAINED FROM HIM 246
CHAPTER IX.
MB. 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.
BTULTEj HAC NOCTE REPETCNT ANIMAM TUAM; ET QU-S PARASTI, CUJUS
EHUNT." LUCJI, XII , , 264
CONTENTS. Xi
CHAPTER XII.
PAO*
ABEL BEECHCROFT FINDS THE BODY OF THE MISER IN THE CELLAR HIS REFLEC-
TIONS UPON IT JACOB'S GRIEF J-CH HIS MASTER 2to
CHAPTER XIII.
DIlilS AND PHILIP UNEXPECTEDLY ARRIVE THE MISEP/S WILL IS READ, AND
PHILIP DECLARES HIS INTENTION OF ACTING UPON IT ABEL UNBOSOMS
HIMSELF TO HILDA 271
CHAPTER XIV.
PHILIP FREWIN IS DANGEROUSLY WOUNDED BY RANDULPH HIS LAST VINDIC-
TIVE EFFORT 276
CHAPTER XV.
MR. CRIPPS'S ALTERED APPEARANCE HE MYSTIFIES THE FAIR THOMASINE
ABOUT LADY 8PINKE THE SEIZURE OF THE JACOBITE CLUB CONTRIVED... 2S3
CHAPTER XVI.
TT:K SUMMEB-HOUSE AT THE CHEQUERS THE OLD MILL RANDULPH OVERHEARS
THE PLOT DISPERSION OF THE JACOBITE CLUB, AND FATE OF CORDWELL
FtRF.BRAS 286
CHAPTER XVIL
IN WHICH THE WEDDING-DAY IS FIXED 294
CHAPTER XVIII.
DL-TAIMNG AN EVENT WHICH MAY POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN ANTICIPATED FROM
TH PRECEDING CHAPTER .. iVtf
(u-rct,<. O\-
Rand- iivering the packet ic
' St: a:n
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
BOOK THE FIRST.
RANDULPH CREW.
CHAPTER L
THE MISER'S DWELLING IN THE LITTLE SANCTUARY OPPOSITE NEIGHBOURS PETER
I'liKKIMClI AND THE FAIR THOMA8INE JACOB POST RANDULi'H CHEW.
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 cros 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
relief 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
ft
2 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
cnrious as himsclfj in reconnoitering 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 return.
Another constant spy upon the mysterious abode was Peter
Pokerich, a young barber and perruquier, occupying the next
house to the mercer, but whose motives were not, like the other's,
entirely those of curiosity. Having completed his apprenticeship
about a twelvemonth before, Peter Pokerich had at that time
fettled in the Little Sanctuary, and had already obtained a fair
share of business, being much employed in dressing the wigs of
the lawyers frequenting Westminster Hall. He was a smart,
dapper little fellow, with no contemptible opinion of himself,
either 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 \vas on the eve of declaring
himself, and soliciting the hand of the fair Thomasine, with
little apprehension of a refusal, he accidentally beheld the miser's
daughter, Hilda Scarvc, and his inflammable 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 ths
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. S
substituted. TJ the astonishment of the party, he soon disposed
of it. These viands requiring to be washed down, Mr. Deacle
took a jug of ale, which stood at one corner of the table, and
pouring out a large foaming glass, offered it to his guest, winking
as he did so at his wife, as much 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.
"Yes, I am," replied Jacob, in his deep, gruff voice.
"Well but stop a bit, I've something to say to you," rejoined
Mr. Deacle.
" Master '11 wonder what I'm doing here so long," 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 juir, 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, Mr?. Deacle
had perceived Jacob's weak point. He seemed spcll-b:>und,
The temptation of the " other jug " was irresistible. He
scratched his forehead with the point of his grcatthumb-nail,
pushed up the little brown scratch wig covering the top of his
head still higher, glanced at the door, but did not attempt U>
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 a quaver*
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 flesh, 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 masticatory 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 garment, 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
effect 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
3*ou 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
dame start, and elicited a slight scream from the fair Thomasine.
" 'Odd's precious!" exclaimed Mrs. Deacle, "how the fellow
docs frighten one. And so you have no ale?" (Jacob shook
his head) "nor small beer?" (another negative) "then what
do you drink, for wine or spirits must be out of the question?"
"Treacle-beer," rejoined Jacob; "and little enough of
that* 1
" So I should think," remarked Mr. Deacle, cunningly.
- t( Come, come, friend Jacob ! this may be very well for your
.master, but it won't do with me. Your nose would never keep
.its goodly colour on such thin potations."
A grim smile crossed Jacob's face, and he tapped the feature
in question.
" [ understand," replied the mercer, winking ; " private cellar,
al ! Perfectly right, Jacob. Private larder, too, I'll be sworn.
You couldn't live on Miser Starve's I mean, Mr. Scarve's
allowance. Impossible, Jacob impossible ! Tak3 a glass, Jacob.
^ our master must be very rich, eh?"
' I don't know," replied Jacob, i
after tossing off the glass;
**be doesn't live like a rich man."
" There I differ from you, Jacob," returned the mercer; " he
Jives like a miser, and misers are always rich."
" Maybe," replied Jacob, turning away.
"Stop, stop!" cried the mercer "you must finish this jug
jcfore you go. Are you the only servant in the house?"
" The only wcm-servant," replied Jacob, looking as if he did
Cot relish the question; "but there's sometimes a cterwoman,
and the two ladies does for themselves."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 5
" Do for themselves!" ejaculated Mrs. Dcacle. " How dreadful!"
"Dreadful indeed!" echoed the fair Thomasine, with an ex-
pression of ineffable disgust, theatrically fine in its effect.
"Well, I should like to see the inside of your master's house,
Jacob, I confess," pursued Mrs. Deacle.
" You wouldn't wish to repeat the visit, ma'am, if you had
once been there," he answered, drily.
" I hope the miser doesn't ill-treat his daughter," said the fair
Thomasine. " Poor thing, how I pity her ! Such a sweet
creature, and such a tyrant of a father !"
" She's not ill-treated, miss," rejoined Jacob, gruffly ; "and she's
not so much to be pitied as you suppose; nor is master a tyrant,
by no means, miss."
" Don't be offended, Jacob," interposed the mercer, pouring
out a glass, and handing it to him. " Women always fancy
themselves ill-treated either by theirfathers, husbands, or brothers
all except their lovers, eh, Jacob ?"
" I'm sure, my love, nobody can say / complain," said Mrs.
Deacle.
"Nor I, father," added Thomasine; "as to lovers, I know
nothing about them, and don't desire to know."
"Bless me! how you take one up," rejoined Mr. Deacle,
sharply. " Nobody dors say that either of you complains.
Surely, Jacob, the old lady whom I always see with your master's
daughter can't be her mother ?"
" No, she's her aunt," replied Jacob.
On the father's side?"
Mother's."
" I thought as much; and her name is ?"
Jacob looked as though he would have said, " What's that to
you ?" but he answered, " Mrs. Clinton."
" You'll think me rather curious, Jacob," pursued the mercer,
" but I should like to know the name of your master's daughter.
What is it, eh?"
" Hilda," replied Jacob.
" Hilda! dear me a very singular name," cried Mrs. Deacle.
" Singular, indeed ! but sweetly pretty," sighed the fair Tho-
masine.
" Probnbly a family name," remarked the mercer. " Well,
Miss Hilda's a charming creature, Jacob, charming."
" She is charmin'," repeated Jacob, emphatically.
" Not very well dressed though," muttered the mercer, as if
speaking to himself: and then he added aloud " She'll be a
great catch, Jacob, a great catch. Any engagement any one
in view any lover, eh ?"
" No one," replied Jacob. " Unless," he added, bursting into
a horse laugh, " it's your next-door neighbour, Peter Pokerich,
the barber."
6 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Peter Pokerich !" screamed the fair Thomasine, starting to
her feet, and assuming an attitude of distraction.
" Mercy on us ! what's the matter, Tommy ?" cried the mercer,
in surprise.
" Don't ask me, father," rejoined the young lady, gasping like
a tragic actress, and passing her hand across her brow as if to
clear off some imaginary hair, her own auburn tresses being
trimly secured beneath a pretty little fly cap. " Tell me, Jarol ,"
she added) catching his arm, " is my is Peter is the faithless
one Hilda Scarve's lover? has he declared his passion? is he
accepted ? tell me all, Jacob, and whatever effort it may cost
me, I will bear it."
' I've nothing more to tell than this," replied Jacob, \vho
listened with imperturbable calmness to this passionate and tonrh-
ing address; "he has lately taken to followin' young missis
^vhcn she goes out to walk with her aunt.''
" But has not dared to address her, Jacob ?" cried the fair
Thomasine, breathlessly.
"Not till t'other day," replied Jacob, "and then he stopped
her just as she was entcrin' the house. Luckily, I was there,
and I guv' him a taste of my crab-stick, which I'll engage he'll
remember."
" Cudgelled ! Peter false, and cudgelled ! cruel, yet kind,
Jacob !" cried the fair Thomasine, relaxing her hold, and stag-
gering back. " This is too much support 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
'liis wife. "Don't you see there's been a secret attachment?"
she added, in an under tone " that deceitful little barber has
played her false. But I'll bring him to his senses, I'll warrant
him. 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, gave 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 daughter,
and make her mind easy directly."
"If he doesn't, I'll give him another taste of the crab-stick,"
added Jacob.
" But it would be highly indecorous highly improper, in me
to go in just now, Mr. Deacle," remonstrated Peter.
"Not more indecorous, or improper, than listening at the
door," rejoined the mercer. " Go in directly, sir."
THE MISERS DAUGHTEH. 7
" Ay, 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 different rich stuffs 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 I say it, who shouldn't say it. I've garden silks,
Lallan silks, brocades, tissues, cloth of silver, ditto gold, fine
Mantua silks, right. Genoa velvets, English ditto, embossed ditto.
Or if she wants commoner stuffs, I've fine thread satins, both
striped and plain, fine Mohair silks, satinets, burdets, Persianets,
Norwich crapes, anterines, 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
lather 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 your 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
" Then tell 'em from me that it's a lie," rejoined Jacob. And
heedless of any 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-formed features,
glowing with health and manly beauty, and slightly, though not
unbecomingly, embrowned by 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 ia
8 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
the eyes 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
business with Miser Starve beg pardon again ! 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
rims Mr. Scarve is such a very odd man. He wont see you
unless your business is very particular. Will you favour me
with your name, sir?"
" My name is Raridulph Crew," returned the stranger.
" Crew Crew !" repeated Peter ; " that should be a Cheshire
name. Excuse the liberty, but are yon 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 no\v-a*days as
lace to his clothes. I've 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 Ramillies. Step in, and I'll show
you the last new periwig the Villiers brought in by the great
oeau of that name heard of him, I dare say, sir, and which all
our brights, smarts, putts, and jemmies arc wearing. I've the
counterpart of Beau Villiers's own periwig, which, between our-
selves for it must 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 nature
Jias given my head/' replied Randulph.
I
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 9
"And with very 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. Scarvc's residence, or must 1 apply
for information elsewhere ?" cried the youn-g man, wearied with
the barber's loquacity.
" Not so fast, sir, not so fast," replied Peter. "I must tell
ou something about the old gentleman first. Do you know
im, sir?"
Kandulph Crew uttered a hasty negative.
" Then 1 do" pursued Peter. " Terrible miser, sir terrible I
denies himself all the comforts of existence makes his family
and servants live upon a bare bone for a week thinks of no-
thing but his gold and, as to his daughter "
" 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 ta
captivate her," he thought. " I wish I could misdirect him ; but
most 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 see
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 peremptory
tone. " I have a packet to deliver to him to his own hands
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 feel gratified in being the means
of hanging that young man."
" Well, I'll take your message to rny master," growled Jacob,
after a short pause. "But I must scrutinize you a little before I
admit you. You seem to me, as far as I can make out, to hu\e
a good deal of the cut of a highwayman about you."
" He, he, he ! good, Jacob good !" tittered Peter.
Some minutes elapsed before Jacob, who had disappeared,
returned. A heavy trrad 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. The
<loor was then thrown open, and exhibited the great gaunt figure
of Jacob, holding a lantern in one hand, the light of which he
threw full upon the face of the young man, while he kept the
other hand, which grasped the redoubted crab-stick, out of view.
Satisfied, at length, with the investigation, he growled forth,
"It'll do. Master'll see you. You may come in."
" That for your trouble, friend," said Randulph, slipping a
crown into Jacob's hand, as he tied his horse's bridle to a ring in
the door-post.
"I wonder what this is given for?" muttered Jacob, as he
pocketed the coin. " It's the only suspicious thing I've noticed
about him. I must keep an eye upon him. But I dare say he
only wants to see young missis, and she's worth more than twenty
crowns to look at."
Thus ruminating, he admitted Randulph into the passage,
locked and bolted the door, look the light out of the lantern, and
placing it in a copper candlestick, led the way towards a back
room.
While the door was being fastened, Peter Pokerich darted
across the way, shouting to Randulph, "I'll take care of your
horse, sir." No attention, however, being paid to the offer, he
hurried back for a light, and began carefully to examine the
saddle, peering into the holsters, and trying to open the saddle-
bags, to see whether he could obtain any clue to the supposed
Jacobite principles of the owner.
CHAPTER II.
THE MISER AND HIS DAUGHTER RAXDULPH DELIVERS THE PACKET TO TOE
FORMER ITS RECEPTION.
FOLLOWING his conductor along the passage, the boards of which
being totally destitute of carpet or cloth, sounded hollowly
beneath their feet, Randulph Crew glanced at the bare walls,
the dusty and cobweb-festooned ceiling, and the staircase, as
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. H
*
devoid of covering as the passage, and could not but admit that
the account given him by the barber of Mr. Scarve's miserly
habits was not exaggerated. Littie time, however, was allowed
him for reflection. Jacob marched quickly on, and pushing open
a door on the right, ushered him into his master's presence.
Mr. Scarve was an old man, and looked much older than he
really was being only sixty-five, whereas he appeared like
eighty. His frame was pinched, as if by self-denial, and preter-
naturally withered and shrivelled; and there was a thin, haggard,
and almost hungry look about his face, extremely painful to con-
template. His features were strongly marked, and sharp, and
his eye gray, keen, and piercing. He was dressed in a thread-
bare cloth robe, trimmed with sable, and wore a velvet nightcap,
lined with cotton, on his head. The rest of his habiliments
were darned and patched in an unseemly manner. Beside him
was a small table, on which was laid a ragged and dirty cloth,
covered with the remains of his scanty meal, which Randulph's
arrival had interrupted. Part of a stale loaf, a slice of cheese,
and a little salt constituted the repast.
Everything in the room bespoke the avaricious character of
its owner. The panelled walls were without hangings or deco-
ration of any kind. The room itself, it was evident, had known
better clays and richer garniture. It was plain, but handsome
in its character, and boasted a large and well-carved chimney-
piece, and a window filled with stained glass, displaying the
armorial bearings of the former possessor of the house, though
now patched in many places with paper, and stopped up in others
with old rags. This window was strongly grated, and the bars
were secured in their turn by a large padlock, placed inside the
room. Over the chimney-piece were placed a couple of large
blue and white china bottles, with dried everlasting flowers
stuck in the necks. There were only two chairs in the room and
a stool. The best chair was appropriated by the miser himself.
It was an old-fashioned affair, with great wooden arms, and a
hard leathern back, polished, like a well-blacked shoe, by fre-
quent use. A few coals, carefully piled into a little pyramid,
burnt within the bars, as if to show the emptiness of the grate,
and diffused a slight gleam, like a mocking laugh, but no sort of
heat. Beside it sat Mrs. Clinton, an elderly maiden lady,
almost as wintry-looking and pinched as her brother-in-law.
This antiquated lady had a long, thin neck, a turned-up nose,
and a skin as yellow as parchment; but the expression of her
countenance, though rather sharp and frosty, was kindly. She
wore a close-fitting gown of dark camlet, with short, tight sleeves,
that by no means concealed the angularities of her figure. Her
hair, which was still dark as in her youth, was gathered up
closely behind, and surmounted by the small muslin cap then in
12 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
The object, however, that chiefly riveted Randulph 's attention
on his entrance was neither the miser himself nor his sister-in-
law it was his daughter. Her beauty was so extraordinary
that it acted like a surprise upon him, occasioning a thrill of
delight, mingled with a feeling of embarrassment. Rising as he
entered the room, she gracefully, and with much natural dignity,
returned his salutation, which, through inadvertence, he addressed
almost exclusively to her. Hilda Scarve's age might be guessed
at nineteen. She was tall, exquisitely proportioned, with a pale,
clear complexion, set off by her rich raven tresses, which, totally
unrestrained, showered down in a thick cloud over her shoulders.
Her eyes were large and dark, luminous, but steady, and indi-
cated firmness of character. Her look was grave and sedate,
and there was great determination in her beautifully-formed but
closely-compressed lips. Her aspect and deportment exhibited
the most perfect self-command, and whatever effect might be
produced upon her by the sudden entrance of the handsome
visitor, not a glance was suffered to reveal it, while he, on the
contrary, could not repress the admiration excited by her beauty.
He was, however, speedily recalled to himself by the miser, who,
rapping the table impatiently, exclaimed, in a querulous tone,
** Your business, sir ? your business ?"
" I have come to deliver this to you, sir," replied Randulph,
producing a small packet, and handing it to the miser. ** I should
tell 3'ou, sir," he added, in a voice of emotion, " that it was my
father's wish that this packet should be given to you a year after
his death but not before."
'And your father's name/' cried the miser, bending eagerly
forward, and shading his eyes so as to enable him to see the
young man more distinctly, "was was "
"The same as my own, Randulph Crew," was the reply.
" Gracious heaven !" exclaimed the miser, falling back in his
chair, " and is he dead ? my friend my old friend!" and he
pressed his hand to his face, as if to hide his emotion.
Hilda bent anxiously over him, and tried to soothe him, but
he pushed her gently away.
"Having discharged my mission, I will now take my leave,**
said Randulph, after a slight pause, during which he looked on
in silent astonishment. " I will call at some other time, Miss
Scarve, to speak to your father respecting the packet."
" No, stay !" cried Hilda, hastily. " Some old and secret spring
of affection has been touched. I entreat you to wait till he re-
covers. He will be better presently."
" He is better now," replied the miser, uncovering his face ;
" the fit is past ; but it was sharp while it lasted. Randulph
Crew," he added, faintly, and stretching out his thin hand to
him, " I am glad to see you. Years ago, I knew your father
well. But unhappy circumstances separated us, and since then
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 13
I have seen nothing; of him. I fancied him alive, and well, and
happy, and your sudden announcement of his death gave me a
great shock. Your father was a good man, Randulph a good
man, and a kind one."
*' He was, indeed, sir," rejoined the young man, in a broken
voice, the tears starting to his eyes.
" But somewhat careless in money matters, Randulph
thoughtless and extravagant," pursued the miser. " Nay, I
mean nothing disrespectful to his memory," he added, seeing the
young man's colour heighten. " His faults were those of an
over- generous nature. He was no man's enemy but his own.
He once had a fine property, but I fear he dissipated it."
"At all events, he greatly embarrassed it, sir," replied Ran-
dulph ; " and I lament to say that the situation of his affairs
preyed upon his spirits, and no doubt hastened his end."
" I feared it would be so," said the miser, shaking his head.
" But the estates were entailed. They are yours now, and
unembarrassed."
44 They might have been so, sir," replied the young man;
"but I have foregone the advantage I could have taken of my
lather's creditors, and have placed the estates in their hands, and
for their benefit."
" You don't mean to say you have been guilty of such in-
credible folly, for I can call it nothing else !" cried the miser, in
a sharp and angry tone, and starting to his feet. " What ! give
the estates to the very men who ruined your father! Have you
been rash and unadvised enough to break down the barriers the
law had built around you for your protection, and let in the
enemy into the very heart of the citadel? It is the height of
folly of madness !"
" Folly or not, sir," returned the young man, haughtily, " I do
not repent the step I have taken. My first consideration was to
preserve the memory of my father unblemished."
" Unblemished ! pshaw !" cried the miser. " You would have
cleared the spots from your father's name much more effectually
if you had kept fast hold of the estates, instead of reducing your-
self to the condition of a beggar."
" Father !" exclaimed Hilda, uneasily "father, you speak too
strongly much too strongly."
" I am no beggar, sir," replied Randulph, with difficulty re-
pressing his anger, "nor will I allow such a term to be applied
to me by you or any man. Farewell, sir." And he would have
left the room, if he had not been detained by the imploring look*
of Hilda.
" Well, then, you are reduced to the condition of a poor man,
if you prefer the term though I think it synonymous with that
of beggar and therefore must be a dependent one/' said the
miser, who seemed utterly reckless of the pain he was inflicting.
14? THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
** But for your own folly, you might now be worth three thou
sand a-year ay, three thousand a-year ! for I knew your
father's rental. Why, you are more thoughtless, more impro-
vident than him who went before you. You have sold your
birthright for less than a mess of pottage. You have sold it for
a phantom, a shade, a word and those who have bought it
laugh at you, deride you. Out upon such folly ! Three thou-
sand a-ycar gone to feed those birds of prey those vultures
that ravened upon your father's vitals while living, and now riot
upon his offspring it's monstrous, intolerable ! Oh ! if I had
left mv affairs in such a condition, and my daughter were to act
thus, 1 should not rest in my grave !"
" And yet, in such a case, I should act precisely as this gentle-
man has acted, father," rejoined Hilda.
"You speak like one ignorant of the world, and of the value
of money, Hilda," cried the miser, turning to her. " Heaven be
praised 1 you will never be in such a situation. I sha'n't leave
you much not much but what I do leave will be unembar-
rassed. It will be your own, too; no husband shall have the
power to touch a farthing of it. "
" Have a care, father," rejoined Hilda, " and do not clog your
oequest with too strict conditions. If I marry, what I have shall
be my husband's."
" Hilda," cried the miser, shaking with passion, " if I thought
you in earnest, I would disinherit you !"
" No more of this, dear father," she rejoined, calmly; " I have
no thought of marrying, and it is needless to discuss the point
till it arises. Recollect, also, there is a stranger present."
" True," replied the miser, recovering himself. " This is not
the time to talk over the subject, but I wont have my intentions
misunderstood. And now," he added, sinking into the chair,
and looking at Randulph, "let me inquire after your mother?
I remember her well as Sopnia Beechcroft, and a charming
creature she was. You resemble her more than your father.
Nay, restrain your blushes, I dont mean to flatter you. That
which is a beauty in a woman is a defect in man ; and your fair
skin and long hair would become your sister, if you have one,
better than yourself."
"Really, sir," rejoined Randulph, again reddening, "you-
make strangely free with me."
" I made free with your father before you, young man,"'
rejoined the miser; "and it was for telling him a piece of my
mind that I lost his friendship. More's the pity ! more's the
pity ! I would have served him if he would have let me. But
to return to your mother. You acted unjustly to her, as well as
to yourself, in not retaining the family estates."
" My mother has her own private property to live on," replied
Randulph, who winced under the stinging observations of th&
miser.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 15
"And what's that?" rejoined Mr. Scarve; "a beggarly I
crave your pardon a pitiful hundred a-year or so. Not that a
hundred a-year i* pitiful, but it must be so to her, with her
notions and habits."
"There you are mistaken, sir," replied Randulph; "my
mother is entirely reconciled to her situation, and lives accord-
ingly."
" I am glad to hear it," replied the miser, in a sceptical tone;
" I own I did not give her credit for so much self-governance,
but 1 hope it is so."
" Hope, sir !' ? cried Randulph, angrily; " is my word doubted?"
"Not in the least," rejoined the miser, drily: "but young
people are apt to take things on trust. And, now, as you have
fooled away your fortune, may I ask what you are about to do to
retrieve it ? What profession or, rather, what trade do you
propose to follow ?"
" I shall follow neither trade nor profession, Mr. Scarve,"
replied Randulph. " My means, though small, enable me to
live as a gentleman."
" Hum !" cried the miser. " I suppose, however, you would
not object to some employment. An idle man is always an ex-
pensive man. But what brought you to London ?"
" My chief motive was to deliver that packet to you," replied
Randolph* " But I must own I was not altogether uninfluenced
by a desire to see this great city, which I have never beheld
since I was a mere boy, and too young to remember it."
" You are a mere boy still," rejoined the miser; "and if you
will take my advice, you will go back more quickly than you
came. But I know you wont, so it's idle to urge you. Youth
will rush headlong to destruction. Young man, you don't know
what is before you, but I'll tell you it's ruin ruin ruin I
dy'c hear me ? ruin !"
" I hear you, sir," replied Randulph, frowning.
"Hum!" said the miser, shrugging his shoulders, "so you
wont be advised ? But it's the way with all young people, and
I ought not to expect you to prove an exception. I suppose } 7 ou
mean to stay with your two uncles, Abel and Trussell Beechcroft?"
" Such is my intention," replied Randulph.
" I have not seen them for years," pursued Scarve ; " but if
you are not acquainted with them, I will give you their charac-
ters in brief. Abel is sour, but sure Trussell, pleasant, plau-
sible, but hollow. And you will judge of my candour when I
tell you that the first hates me, while the latter is well disposed
towards me. Y'ou will take to the one and dislike the other, but
you will find out your error in time. Mind what I say. And
now let us look at the packet, for I have kept you here too long,
and have nothing to offer you."
" There's nearly a glass of wine left in the bottle in the cup-
16 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
board," interposed Jacob, who had stood stock still during the
whole of this interview, with the candle in his hand. " Perhaps
the gentleman would like it after his journey."
" Hold your tongue, sirrah," cried the miser, sharply, " and
snuff the candle not with your fingers, knave !" he added, as
Jacob applied his immense digits to the tufted wick, and stamped
upon the snuff as he cast it on the floor. " What can this packet,
contain ? Let me see," he continued, breaking the seal and dis-
closing a letter, which he opened, and found it contained a small
memorandum. As he glanced at it, a shade came over his coun-
tenance. He did not attempt to read the letter, but folding it
over the small piece of paper, unlocked a small, strong box, that
stood at his feet beneath the table, and placed them both within it.
"It is time you went to your uncles, young man," he said to
Randulph, in an altered tone, and more coldly than before ; " I
shall be glad to see you some other time. Good night."
"I shall be truly happy to cail here again, sir," replied Ran-
ilulph, looking earnestly at Hilda.
" Jacob, show Mr. Crew to the door," cried the miser, hastily.
" Good night, Miss Scarve," said Randulph, still lingering.
44 Do you often walk in the parks ?"
" My daughter never stirs abroad," replied the miser, motion-
ing him away. " There, get you gone. Good night, good
night! A troublesome visitor," he added, to Hilda, as Jacob
departed with the young man.
Jacob having again placed the candle in the lantern, unbolted
and unlocked the door, and issuing forth, they found Peter
Pokerich standing beside the horse.
" You may thank me that your horse is not gone, sir," said
the latter. "People in London are not quite so honest as the
villagers in Cheshire. Well, you've seen Mr. Scarve, I suppose,
sir? What do you think of him, and of his daughter?"
" I pity your taste in not admiring her," replied Randulph.
" Not admiring her!" cried Jacob, with a horse laugh. "Did
he tell you he didn't admire her ? Why, he's dying with love
of her, and 1 make no doubt, was jealous of your good looks
ho! ho!"
" You're insolent, Mr. Jacob," rejoined Peter, angrily.
"What! you want another taste of my crabstick, do you?"
said Jacob. " It's close at hand."
" Don't quarrel, friends," laughed Randulph, springing into
the saddle. " Good night, Jacob. I shall hope, ere long, to see
your old master and young mistress again." So saying, he struck
s-mrs into his steed, and rode off in the direction of Westminster
1 ridge.
" Well," said Peter, as he crossed over the way to his own
Dwelling, " I've managed to get a letter out of his saddle bag, at
ail events. Perhaps it'll tell me who and what he is, and whether
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 17
he's a Jacobite and Papist. If so, let him look to himself; for
as sure as my name's Peter Pokerich, I'll hang him. And now
for the letter."
CHAPTER III.
THE BKOTHESS BEECKCROFT MR. JUKES THE ARRIVAL THE WALK IS SAINT
JAMES'S PARK RANDULPH'S INTRODUCTION TO BEAU VILLIERS AND LADY
BRABAZON.
THE two brothers Beechcroft, Randulph's uncles, lived in a
retired house in Lambeth, close to the river, and a little to the
west of the palace. Both were middle-aged men, that is to
say for it is difficult to determine what is the middle age novv-
a-days, though it was not quite so difficult to fix the period in
the last century one was fifty-six, and the other ten years
younger, and both bachelor?. That they lived together, and in
this retired \vay, was not so much matter of choice as of necessity
on the part of the younger brother, Trusscll, for he would have
preferred, if it had been in his power, a gayer kind of life. But
fortune decreed it otherwise. The father of the brothers was a
wealthy merchant, who, being determined to make an elder son,
left the bulk of his property, except some trifling bequests to his
(laughter Sophia (Randulph's mother) and Trussell, to his first-
born Abel. Abel, however, behaved very handsomely upon the
occasion. He instantly made over to his brother and sister what
he considered their rightful share of the property. In neither
case did the gift prosper. Trussell soon squandered away his
modicum in gaming and every other sort of extravagance, while
Sophia's portion was dissipated, though in a different way, by
her thoughtless and improvident husband. There are, indeed,
BO many ways of getting rid of money, that ic is difficult to say
which is the most expeditious; nor would it be easy to tell
whether Trussell or his sister was longest benefited by their
brother's bounty. A small sum had been settled upon Mrs.
Crew by her father, at the time of her marriage, and on this she
now lived.
Completely reduced in circumstances, Trussell was thrown
upon his brother, who very kindly received him, but compelled
hi iu to live in his own quiet manner. This not suiting the more
mercurial brother, he more than once tried to live on his own
resources; but, failing in the attempt, he was compelled to come
back to the old quarters. Now that age had somewhat calmed
him, he was more reconciled to his situation. Having little
money to spend, for his brother, of course, regulated his allow-
ance, he could not indulge in any of the dearer amusements
he could neither play nor frequent the more expensive coffee-
houses, clubs, ihr.atrpF, opera, or other places of public enter-
O
18 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
tainmcnt, except on rare occasions. But he was daily to be scon
sauntering on the Mall, or in Piccadilly, and as he had a toler-
ably extensive acquaintance with the beau monde, he was at no
loss for society. The Cocoa-Tree and White's were too extra-
vagant for him, the Smyrna and the St. James's too exclusively
political, Young Man's too military, Old Man's too much
frequented by stock-jobbers, and Little Man's by sharpers,
so he struck a middle course, and adopted the British. This
was during the day-time; but after the play, if by chance he
went thither, he would drop into Tom's or Will's coffee-houses,
to talk over the performance to play a game at picquet or to
lose a half-crown at faro. But nothing would tempt him to risk
even the smallest sum at hazard. The ordinaries he rarely
attended, never, indeed, unless invited by a friend to dine with
him at one of them.
Such was Trussell Becchcroft's daily routine. Perfectly well
bred, of easy and polished manners, good taste, and impertur-
bable temper, he was an acceptable companion everywhere, and
it was a matter of surprise to all that he had not got on better
in the world. Trussell was about the middle height, somewhat
corpulent and short-necked, and had a round full face. He was
by no means handsome, nor had he ever been so, but his features
were decidedly prepossessing. He was scrupulously neat in his
attire, and a little, perhaps, too attentive to personal decoration
for an elderly gentleman ; at least, his brother thought so.
Abel Beechcroft was a very different character. Some early
disappointment in life, in a matter of the heart, it was reported,
had soured his temper, and given a misanthropic turn to his mind.
He mingled little with the world, and when he did so, it was only
to furnish himself with fresh material for railing at its follies.
He was a confirmed woman-hater, shunned the society of the
:sex, and never would see his sister after her marriage, because
she had in some way or other, though in what was never dis-
closed, been connected with the bitterest event in his life. In
person Abel was short, thin, and slightly deformed, having very
high shoulders, almost amounting to a hump; and his neck being
short, like his brother's, his large chin almost reposed upon his
chest. His features were somewhat coarse, with a long, pro-
minent nose, and pointed chin, but his broad, massive forehead,
and keen gray eyes, gave a great degree of intelligence to then),
while his shrewd, satirical expression redeemed them from any-
thing like a commonplace character.
It has been said that he lived quietty, but he also lived very
comfortably. Nothing could be more snug than his retreat at
iLambeth, with its fine garden, its green-houses and hot-houses,
its walls covered with fruit-trees, and its summer-house, with
windows commanding the river, and frescoed ceiling, painted in
the time of Charles the Second, at which epoch the house was
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. ig
built, and the garden laid out. Then he had some choice
pictures of the Flemish school, two or three of Charles's beauties,
undoubted originals, by Lely and Kneller, but placed in his
brother's room, to be out of his own sight an arrangement to
which Trussell raised no objection ; plenty of old china, and old
japanned cabinets; a good library, in which the old poets, the old
dramatists, and the old chroniclers, found a place; and, above all,
a large cellar abundantly stocked with old wine. He was, in
fact, by no means indifferent to good cheer, and enjoyed life, in
his own way, with a keen zest. He had an old butler who
managed all for him, for he would never suffer a female servant
to come into his sight; and this person, Josiah Jukes, or as he
was generally called, Mr. Jukes, was the only person that ever
presumed to contradict him.
Abel Beechcroft, who had expected his nephew's arrival early
in the day, and had, in fact, waited dinner for him a compli-
ment he Very rarely paid to any one became, as he did not
appear, waspish and peevish to a degree that his brother's
patience could hardly tolerate. He grumbled during the whole of
dinner, which he declared was uneatable, and when the cloth was
removed, began to find fault with the wine.
" This bottle is corked," he said, as he tasted the first glass;
"all the fault of that boy. I wish I had never promised to
receive him. I dare say some accident has happened to him. I
hope it may turn out so."
" You don't hope any such thing, sir," remarked Mr. Jukes, a
little, round, rosy, good-humoured-looking man, in a plain
livery " you don't hope any such thing, so don't belie yourself,
and do your kind heart an injustice. The wine's not corked,"
he added, taking the bottle to the side-board, and tasting it.
" Try another glass. Your palate's out of order."
" And well it may be, Jukes," replied Abel, "for my digestion
has been sadly disturbed by this waiting. Ah! I find I was
mistaken," he added, tasting the glass poured out for him; <( there
is nothing the matter with the wine."
" On the contrary, sir, I think it an excellent bottle," remarked
Trussell, and I propose that we drink our worthy sister's good
health Heaven bless her ! how much I should like to see her!
and her son's safe and speedy arrival."
" Come, sir, you cannot refuse that pledge," said Mr. Jukes,
filling his master's glass. " I must drink it myself," he added,
again carrying the bottle to the sideboard.
"" Well, 1 wonder what we shall find Randulph like?" mused
Trussell, "for we have not seen him since he was a little fellow
not higher than this table, when his poor father brought him to
town."'
" By the same token that his poor father borrowed two thou-
C2
20 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
sand pounds ot me at the time, every farthing of which I lost,"
growled Abel.
" Well, well no matter, sir. You never felt the loss, so what
does it signify ?** remarked Mr. Jukes.
" I've no doubt Randulph will be a very fine young man,**
pursued Trussell. " Sophia writes word that he is her exact
image, and she was certainly the finest woman of her day."
" Ay, ay !** cried Abel, shrugging his shoulders uneasily.
" Change the subject, brother change the subject."
For some minutes there was a profound silence, which was at
length broken by Abel.
" I suppose you mean to take this young lad, if he comes, to
see all the sights, brother?" he remarked.
"Oh, of course, sir of course," replied Trussell; "I must
introduce him to the world show him all the public places and
public characters and give him a slight taste of town life."
" Let it be a very slight taste, brother," rejoined Abel, sharply,
" and not enough to give him an appetite for such pernicious
food. Our nephew must be perfectly unsophisticated, and, I
doubt not, from what I hear of him and, indeed, know of him
a youth of excellent principles. I think his conduct, in sur-
rendering his estates to his father's creditors, noble. I have
great hopes of him, and if he turns out well, will take care he
does not lose, in the end, by his disinterestedness. But that
depends upon himself, and in some degree on you."
" On me, sir! how so ?" asked Trussell.
" Thus," replied the elder brother "thus: he is coining to
town ; you will give him certain introductions ; these may turn
out to his advantage may raise him in society, in the world. If
so, well and good. But if you only teach him to ape the follies
and vices of those of a higher rank than himself if you make
him a weak and frivolous, and, perhaps, a vicious character if,
in short, you expose him to a test which he cannot bear, I cast
him off, and will have nothing to do with him."
" And provided he answers your expectations, do you propose
to leave him a fortune, sir, or to give him one ?" inquired Trussell,
curiously.
" Why do you ask, brother why do you ask ?" demanded
Abel, eyeing him narrowly from beneath his great bent brows.
" Nay, I only asked out of mere curiosity, sir," replied Trussell,
seizing the bottle in some confusion. " I could have no other
motive."
Abel coughed drily.
" I'll bring you more wine in a moment, gentlemen," intcr-
noscd Mr. Jukes; " the bottle's empty, Mr. Trussell."
" So it is, Mr. Jukes," replied Trussell. " Well, I'll do my
jest, sir, to be a Mentor to him, and I hope I may succeed in
carrying him through the fiery furnace unscathed. But you
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 21
mustn't be too hard upon him if he should be guilty of some
slight indiscretion. You must recollect, sir, that we have been
young ourselves ; and that few men have their passions so much
under control as yourself."
" I !" exclaimed Abel, with bitter contempt. " You are mock-
ing me, brother. But go on."
" I've nothing more to add, sir," replied Trussell.
" Then I have," said Abel, in a low, deep tone, and bending
towards his brother. " Trussell, one word more on this subject,
and I dismiss it. Whether I make my nephew rny heir or not,
will make no difference to you. What I have done, I have done,
and I shall do no more. You can have no motive, therefore, for
leading him astray."
" I am grieved you should think me capable of such a base
design," replied Trussell, colouring deeply; " but I will take no
offence at what you say. I know my own heart and intentions
too well/'
" I only gave you a hint, brother," replied Abel, chuckling.
"I know that a shrewd man of the world that is, a clever
scoundrel would act in such a way; and if he succeeded, would
be applauded for his conduct I am glad you take the caution
in good part."
Here Mr. Jukes opportunely entered with a fresh bottle of
wine, which proved in admirable condition; and Abel having
expended his ill-humour, the conversation was carried on in a
much more agreeable manner for an hour, when both brothers
adjourned to the garden, and smoked a pipe in the summer-house.
It was a charming evening ; and the river, which was studded with
boats, presented a lively and pleasant sight. As night drew on,
however, Abel, in spite of himself, could not conceal his uneasi-
ness.
" Something must have happened to the lad, Jukes," he said:
"" my mind misgives me. He has been robbed, and perhaps
maltreated, by some of the highwaymen haunting Finchley
Common."
" Poh ! poh ! don't make yourself uneasy," replied Mr. Jukes.
46 He'll be here presently, I'll warrant him. What has he to be
robbed of?"
"Nothing much that's certain," replied Abel. "But it is
getting late. It must be near ten o'clock. He wont be even in
time for supper."
" I've ordered supper to be kept back an hour, sir," said Mr.
Jukes.
'* The devil you have !" cried Abel, angrily. " And do you
think I'll submit to such an arrangement ? Would you ruin my
digestion, rascal ? My stomach is as regular as clockwork.
Serve it directly, sirrah !"
As Mr. Jukes departed to see his master's commands obeyed,
22 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
>vas agreeably surprised by i loud knocking at the outer door,
waddling thither, with the other servants; as fast as he could,
he was
and
was enchanted to find the summons proceeded from the expected
guests. Randulph's horse was taken charge of, and he himself
speedily ushered into the presence of his uncles, who both wel-
comed him warmly and affectionately though Abel could not
help mixing up with his greetings some reproofs for his late
arrival. Randulph explained that several delays had occurred
to him on his journey, and concluded by an account of his visit
to Mr. Scarve. At the mention of this name, Randulph observed
both his uncles look extremely blank. Uncle Abel, in parti-
cular, seemed angry and disconcerted.
" You must never go near that house again," said the latter, at
length, in an authoritative tone. "Mark me on pain of my
displeasure, I forbid it "
" Why so, uncle ?" asked Randulph, who had been schooled by
his mother to treat Abel with great deference.
" Don't ask me," replied Abel. " It is sufficient that I forbid
you."
Randulph felt disposed to remonstrate, more especially as the
figure of the beautiful Hilda rose before his recollection; but
uncle Abel at that moment turning away, his sleeve was plucked
by uncle Trussell, who whispered in his ear, " Don't disobey
him, or you will mar your future fortunes."
Thus advised, the young man made no reply. Soon after this,
supper was served. Many questions were put to his nephew by
uncle Trussell respecting his sister, her state of health, and other
matters, all of which were answered very satisfactorily. The
time for parting, however, came, and Randulph was not sorry to
retire. The only thing that dwelt in his mind, and clouded his
satisfaction, was uncle Abel's peremptory interdiction against
his visits to the miser, and he felt he should have difficulty in
observing it.
"It is strange," he thought, "that my mother should never
have answered any of my inquiries respecting Mr. Scarve. She
seemed as mysterious as my uncles. I don't much like the old
miser. But the daughter is charming. Heigho I I must posi-
tively see her again, even if I incur uncle Abel's sovereign dis-
pleasure."
Next morning, the uncles and their nephew met at breakfast,
at an early hour, when the subjects discussed on the previous
night were renewed. Now that he had completely shaken off
the fatigue of his journey, Randulph looked so handsome, that
both his relations were greatly taken with him, and, on the con-
clusion of some remark, uncle Abel said, as if unconsciously,
' He is, indeed, very like his mother."
Some few hours were then spent by the young man in arrang-
ing his little wardrobe, and in looking out some letters which he
,)h Crew a u Villir Mali.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 23
had promised to deliver. He missed one, however, and after
turning over every article he possessed more than a dozen times,
concluded he had lost it. What made the matter more provoking
was, that he could not recollect to whom it was addressed. As
he had received it amongst others from his mother, to whom it
had been committed by a friend, he mentioned its loss in a
dispatch which he proceeded to write to her, and also detailed
his safe arrival, and the impressions made upon him by his
uncles, and by the miser and his daughter, whose beauty he
highly extolled. His letter concluded, he went down stairs, and
found both his uncles prepared for a stroll. Accordingly, they
all three sallied forth, and, crossing Westminster Bridge, shaped
then course towards Saint James's Park. As they passed the
Little Sanctuary, Randulph could not help gazing towards the
dungeon-like dwelling which enshrined her who had made so
deep an impression upon him. Uncle Abel noticed his look,
and partly divining the cause of it, said, " Remember what I told
you. Disobey me, and you will rue it."
Randulph would have made some reply, but he was checked
by a significant glance from uncle Trusseil.
Passing through the Gate House, they entered the Park by a
small doorway at the end of Prince's-court. It was now noon,
and a warm and genial day. The avenues of trees then extend-
ing between this point and Rosamond's Pond were crowded with
persons of both sex, and of all ranks, summoned forth by the
fineness of the weather.
Amused by the scene, Randulph gazed with much curiosity
at all presented to his view. Passing by the Decoy, the party
skirted the great canal, and, leaving Rosamond's Pond on the left,
proceeded towards Buckingham House.
Just at this juncture, uncle Trusseil caught sight of a gay party
approaching, and exclaimed, in a joyful tone, to his nephew, " As
I live, we are most fortunate ! There is the leader of fashion,
Beau Villiers, coming towards us. You shall know him, nephew
you shall know him ! The ladies he is walking with are Lady
Brabazon and the Honourable Clementina Brabazon a fine girl,
Clementina a remarkably fine girl ; perfect in style and manners-
quite a toast among the sparks. The old fellow at her side, Sir
Singleton Spinke, was a great beau in his time, though never
equal to Villiers, who far surpasses even his prototype, Beau
Fielding, in style and taste. You shall know them all."
" And nice acquaintances you will make !" remarked uncle
Abel, sneeringly.
" Never mind him, Randulph," whispered uncle Trusseil. " If
you know this set, and they like you, ^ou may know whom you
please. Beau Villiers commands all societ}', from the highest down
to _to "
" Mr. Trusseil Beecheroft," replied uncle Abel.
24- THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Well, down to me, if you please," rejoined uncle Tnissell,
"and that shows it does not extend too low. But, Randulph, I
beg you to look at the beau. Did you ever see a finer man ?"
" He is very handsome, certainly," replied Randulph, " and
remarkably well dressed."
u He is a great coxcomb, a great rake, and a great gamester,
Randulph," said uncle Abel ; " beware of him. n
" Tush, never mind what he says," rejoined uncle Trussell, who
really wished to have the eclat of introducing his handsome
nephew to the beau. " Come along !"
So saying, he took his nephew's arm, and hurried him forward.
Pushing their way through the throng, they soon approached the
seutry-box opposite Buckingham House, near which they en-
countered the party in question.
Beau Villiers, who was, indeed, a remarkably handsome man,
and dressed in the extremity of the mode, wore a light-blue
embossed velvet coat, cmbroided with silver, with broad cuffs
similarly ornamented; a white waistcoat of the richest silk, like-
wise laced with silver; and tawny velvet breeches, partly covered
with pearl-coloured silk hose, drawn above the knee, and secured
with silver garters. His dress was completed by shoes of black
Spanish leather, fastened by large diamond buckles, and a superb
Ramillies periwig of the lightest flaxen hair, which set off his
brilliant complexion, and fine eyes, to admiration. He carried a
three-cornered hat, fringed with feathers, and a clouded cane,
mounted with a valuable pebble.
Near the beau, walked Lady Brabazon, a gorgeous dame of
about fivc-and-forty, and still possessed of great personal attrac-
tions, which she omitted no means of displaying. She wore a
hoop, and a white and silver satin sack. Struck by Randulph's
figure at a distance, she had pointed him out to the beau, who
thereupon vouchsafed to look towards him. Behind Lady Bra-
bazon, came her daughter, Clementina, a very pretty and very
affected blonde of two-and-twenty, with an excessively delicate
complexion, fair hair, summer blue eyes, and a very mincing
gait. She was exquisitely dressed in the last new mode, with a
small escaloped lace cap, her hair crisply curled at the sides, a
triple row of pearls round her neck, and a diamond cross attached
to the chain ; and though she pretended to be interested in the
discourse of the old knight, it was evident her regards were
attracted by the handsome young stranger.
As to the old beau, he was, indeed, supremely ridiculous. He
was attired in a richly-embroidered cinnamon-coloured velvet
coat, with fur cuffs of a preposterous size, each as large as a
modern muff'. His pantaloon legs were. covered with pink silk
hose ; his wrinkled features were rouged and bepatched ; and
his wig was tied with a large bow, and had such an immense
queue to it, that it looked as if a Patagonian dragon-fly had
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 25
perched on the back of his neck. Lady Brabazon was attended
by a little black page, in a turban and eastern dress, who had
charge of her favourite lap-dog.
While uncle Abel drew on one side to allow the introduction to
take place, and to witness it, uncle Trussell stepped forward, and,
bowing obsequiously to Beau Villiers, pointed to Randulph, who
stood on his right.
" Permit me," he said, " to introduce my nephew, Mr. Ran-
dulph Crew, to you, Mr. Villiers. He is fresh from the country.
But even there, your reputation has reached him."
" I am happy to make his acquaintance," replied the beau,
courteously returning Randolph's bow, and eyeing him curiously
at the same time. " On my faith, your ladyship," he added,
aloud, to Lady Brabazon, " the young man is not amiss, but
destroyed by his wretched equipments and rustic air."
" I really think something may be made of him," returned
Lady Brabazon, in the same loud and confidential tone. Mr.
Trussell Beechcroft, introduce your nephew."
" With the greatest pleasure, your ladyship," replied Truasell,
obeying her behest.
" Come with us," said Lady Brabazon, to Randulph, after the
ceremony had been gone through ; " My daughter Mr. Crew,"
she added, as they passed along. "By-the-by, who was that
strange old man I saw walking with you just now ?"
"Who?" rejoined Randulph, evasively, for he felt ashamed,
he knew not why, of acknowledging his uncle.
" There he is," said Lady Brabazon, pointing her fan back-
wards ; " he is staring hard at us, and looks exactly like a bailiff."
" It is my uncle Abel," replied Randulph, in some confusion.
c< Your uncle Abel !" cried Lady Brabazon, with a scream of
laughter. " Then the sooner you get rid of uncle Abel the
better."
Abel could not hear the words, but he heard the laugh, and
saw the gesture, as well as his nephew's confusion, and knew
that he was the object of it. He turned away in the opposite
direction, muttering to himself as he went, " So, he has taken
the first step."
CHAPTER IV.
ACEL BEECHCROPT'S SENSIBILITY HIS INSTRUCTIONS TO MR. JUKES A SECOND
NEPHEW THE LOAN MB. CRIPPS'S SENSE OF HONOUR THE BRIBE.
UNCLE ABEL returned home by himself about two o'clock, in a
very ill humour indeed, and, vouchsafing no answer to Mr.
Jukes, who smilingly inquired where he had left the two gentle-
men, proceeded at once to the library. Knowing the peculiarity
26 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
of his master's temper, the discreet butler left him to himself, but
ventured, unsummoned, into his presence in about half an hour,
and found him in the act of tearing up a letter, and throwing the
fragments into the grate."
" What brings you here, sir ?" cried Abel, turning sharply
upon him. " I didn't ring the bell."
" I know you didn't sir," replied Mr. Jukes; "but I was
certain you wanted me, nevertheless."
" You were certain of no such thing, sirrah," rejoined Abel,
in a tone that contradicted the asperity of his words, " and you
presume too much on your long services."
" I don't presume too much on your kindness," rejoined Mr.
Jukes, in accents oddly enough compounded of familiarity and
respect. "I see plainly that something has gone wrong, and
perhaps I may be able to set it right."
" Well, shut the door, Jukes," returned Abel, seating himself,
" and put the window down, why was it left open? you know
I can't bear a draught. What do you think of my nephew ?"
( That he's a remarkably fine young man, sir," replied the
butler. " I haven't seen a handsomer man this many a day.
And Mr. Trussell was quite right when he said he was like your
sister. He's the perfect picture of her as she was when
" Never mind the likeness, Jukes," interrupted Abel, hastily;
" I don't want to know what you think of his good looks.
They're obvious enough too obvious by far for, trust me,
whatever you may think of the matter, it is a great misfortune
in a man to be too handsome. What I wish to have is your
opinion of his disposition."
"I think it equal to his good looks, sir," replied the butler,
promptly. " It will be strange indeed, if he doesn't turn out a
fine character."
" Hum !" exclaimed Mr. Abel, with one of his sneers, " so that
is your opinion, Mr. Jukes. I thought you a better judge."
"I see what you're driving at, sir," replied the butler; "but
it wont answer with me. You're displeased with your nephew,
and want me to disparage him; but I tell you plainly, I wont.
And if I were foolish enough, and base enough to do so, no one
would be more angry with me than . yourself. I think Mr.
Randulph a very fine young man, and a very promising young
man ; and I'm truly happy to find, since you're never likely to
marry, that you'll have such a worthy successor."
Accustomed as he was to his master's fitful humours, Mr. Jukes
was not prepared for the effect which his words produced, or he
would have cut off his tongue sooner than have uttered them.
Abel, who was gazing at him fixedly as he commenced, cast
down his eyes at the close of his speech, and pressed his hand
convulsively to his brow. He remained silent for some moments,
and then, giving vent to his suppressed respiration in a groan,
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 27
walked to the window, and appeared to be looking out into the
garden. Mr. Jukes allowed him to remain undisturbed for a few
minutes, and then approached him.
" I'm extremely sorry for what I said, sir," he remarked, peni-
tcntially; " I ought to have known better."
" Yo*u said nothing, Jukes," replied Abel, sadly, yet kindly,
" but what I ought to have heard unmoved, and I am ashamed
of my own weakness. It is not because I shall go childless to
the grave that I have exhibited this emotion, but because your
allusion has opened old wounds, and brought the past too
palpably and painfully before me. You know the secrets of my
heart, and will understand what a train of emotion a chance
word might awaken. I am an old man, Jukes, callous in feel-
ing on most points but there is one point on which I am as
sensitive as ever. It is that disappointment that blighting
which I met with from from I cannot bring myself to utter
her name. The wound I then received is incurable. I shall
bear it to my dying day."
" I hope not, sir I hope not," sympathized the butler,
" I hate the sex, Jukes !" cried Abel, almost fiercely. " There
is no faith, no honesty in it any more than there is true
friendship in men. I never yet knew a woman whom I could
thoroughly esteem nor a man on whose friendship I could
entirely rely. If I could make an exception in the latter case,
it would be in favour of yourself."
" And if a servant was ever true to his master, I am true to
you, sir," replied Mr. Jukes, earnestly. " But you expect too-
much from human nature. Our imperfect condition is to blame,
not ourselves. In my opinion, there are more true-hearted
women than the reverse ; and I should be sorry to think other-
wise. But if you search the world over for one who could come
up to your notions of perfection, I fear you would not find her.
The best of women have some faults, and the worst many
redeeming qualities. But with all their faults they are the best
part of creation. So at least I think, and so you would think
too, sir, if your choice had not been so unhappily fixed/'
" Do not advert to it again, Jukes," cried Abel, repressing a
pang.
""I've done, sir I've done !" rejoined Mr. Jukes, hastily.
" And now may I venture to ask what has displeased you with
your nephew ?"
" Perhaps I ought not to be angry with him," replied Abel ;
" but I watched him closely during his introduction to Beau
Villiers and Lady Brabazon on the Mall this morning, and saw
that he was completely dazzled by them. Nay, I clearly detected,
by certain looks and gestures that passed between him and Lady
Brazen, for such should be her title, that she put him to the
blush about his relationship to me. I do not Maine him for this,
28 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
oecnnse I know what effect appearances have upon young per-
sons, and how difficult it is to understand real worth when set
against the glitter of rank and fashion, however worthless or
vicious the latter may be. I do not blame him, I say, but I
lament that he did not bear his first trial better."
" You should blame Lady Brabazon, not him, sir," rejoined
Mr. Jukes. " Some ladies of her rank have a way of abashing
modest young men, and delight in doing it. And then Fin sure
I may tell you without offence, that your dress is scarcely
becoming your real station in life. No, sir, I don't wonder Mr.
liandulph felt a little embarrassed. I may just as well complain
of my graceless nephew, Crackenthorpc Cripps, who serves Mr.
Villiers, the very gentleman you've mentioned. The rascal will
never own me if he meets me in the Park, though he's extremely
glad to call me <nunks,'and wheedle me out of a crown at other
times. But what do I care for his impertinence ? Nothing at all."
" Well, Jukes, perhaps you are right," said Abel, after a
moment's reflection; "and perhaps I am guilty of as much weak-
ness as my nephew himself, in feeling hurt by the matter. I had
written to his mother on the subject; but 1 have just destroyed
the letter."
" I am glad to hear it, sir," replied Mr. Jukes.
" And now there is another point, about which I feel consi-
derable uneasiness," pursued Abe!. " Randulph, as you know,
has seen Hilda Scarve; and, short as the interview was, it was
long enough it seems for her to produce a strong impression upon
him. Now," he continued, sternly, and emphatically, " he never
shall marry that girl, with my consent! never, JukesI And if
he should marry her, he never shall have a shilling of mine. I
have forbidden him to visit the house; but I am apprehensive he
will disobey my injunctions. If he goes there without my know-
ledge, I will shut my doors against him."
" If you do so, you will act very harshly and very unjustly sir,"
replied Mr. Jukes; " and so I tell you beforehand."
" The fault will be his own," rejoined Abel, coldly. " I have
warned him. It must be your part to see Jacob Post, if the
fellow is still with the miser, and ascertain whether Randulph
visits the house. D'ye understand?"
" Perfectly," replied Jukes, " but I don't like the job."
" Like it or not, you will do as I bid you," continued Abel,
peremptorily. " And you have not yet received the whole of
vour instructions. You say that your nephew serves Mr. Villiers.
iBribe him to bring word what Randulph does in his master's
society; whether he games, drinks, or riots in a word, how he
goes on."
" There will be no necessity to bribe Crackenthorpe to tell all
tlm," returned Mr. Jukes. "But I repeat, I don't like suck
underhand proceedings. They're unworthy of you."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 29
" It is the only way of arriving at the truth," replied Abel.
" And now leave me. I must write to my sister about this Scarve
curse on the name and will desire her to interdict her son
from going near the house."
" In my humble opinion you are taking the precise course to
attract him thither, sir," rejoined Mr., Jukes. " If he never
desired to go before, he will do so now. It's human nature, sir,
Tell me not to open that cupboard, and I should long to do it.
Recollect Bluebeard, sir.' 1
" Bluebeard be hanged 1" cried Abel, angrily. " Go and look
after dinner. Serve it at four to a moment. I wont wait an
instant for them not an instant."
The butler bowed and retired, while Abel commenced a second
letter to his sister.
As Mr. Jukes approached the butler's pantry, whither he re-
paired after quitting his master, he was startled by hearing a
voice issue from it, singing with some taste, but in a very affected
style, the following snatch:
" I have been in love, and in debt, and in drink,
This many and many a year;
And these are three plagues, enough, I should think,
For one poor mortal to hear."
" There's my rascally nephew, Crackenthorpe," muttered Mr.
Jukes. " I wont see him. He's come upon his old errand."
Here the singer again exalted his voice:
"There is nothing but money can cure me,
And rid me of all my pain ;
Twill pay all my debts, and remove all my lets,
And my mistress, that cannot endure me,
Will love me, and love me again.
Fal de ral."
"Ay, money's always the burden of his song," muttered Mr.
Jukes. "However, I must sec him, I suppose. My master's
orders are peremptory."
With this, he pushed open the door, and discovered his nephew
leaning in a very careless attitude against the table. Mr. Cracken-
thorpe Cripps was a young man of about three-and-twenty, of
very dissipated appearance, with a slim, well-proportioned figure,
and tolerably good features, only marred by an expression of
cunning and assurance. He was dressed in a cast-off suit of his
master's, and, being precisely the same height, and nearly the
same make, as the renowned beau, his clothes fitted him remark-
ably well. He would scarcely have been taken for a valet, for
in defiance of the regulations against the wearing of offensive
weapons by footmen, then somewhat strictly enforced, from the
quarrels arising among those gentry, he carried a silver-hilted
sword. His coat was of scarlet, trimmed with gold somewhat
tarnished, but i>till presenting a sufficiently gay appearance; his
SO THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
waistcoat of green llowercd silk; his breeches of yellow velvet;
his cravat was laced ; and the queue of the wig was left unfastened,
allowing the hair to float negligently over his shoulders, to add,
no doubt, to the rakish air he affected. A clouded cane, with a
large silken tassel, completed his equipment. From his air, his
dress, and his pretensions, this coxcomb was known amongst his
fraternity as Beau Cripps a title of which he was not a little
vain, and strove to support. On seeing his uncle, the valet did
not alter his position, but contented himself with waving his hand
condescendingly to him.
" How are ye, minks?" he said. " Give you the bonjour, as
\ve bucks say. Sweet old soul, how I love thee ! 'Pon rep ! 'tis
a pleasure rather than a duty to visit thee."
" I beg you'll never put yourself to any trouble on my account,
nephew," replied Mr. Jukes, somewhat testily; and I must
request, whenever you visit this house in future, that you'll bear
in mind the situation I hold in it. Amuse yourself with your
opera ballads elsewhere."
" Cudslid, minks !" cried Mr. Cripps, " you are far more parti-
cular than the Duke of Doncaster's gentleman himself. Why I
do what I like when I visit him."
" Perhaps so," rejoined Mr. Jukes ; " but you sha'n't do what
you like here, I promise you."
" Devil take me, if I ever heard a better jest," cried Mr. Cripps,
forcing a laugh; " but you were always a wit, minks. Try my
snush. You'll find it excellent. It's the beau's own mixture,
'pon rep!"
" And the beau's own box, I'll be sworn, nephew," replied
Mr. Junks, helping himself to a pinch. "Well," he added,
somewhat mollified by the attention, " will you take anything
after vour walk ?"
"Walk, nunks!" echoed Mr. Cripps, with a look of supreme
contempt. "Do you think I would walk while there was a con-
veyance to be had? No; a coach and a pair of skulls brought
me hither. But since you press me, I don't mind a glass of
Bordeaux, or Rhenish. I know old Abel has a prime cellar, so
suppose we tap a flask. Mrs. Nicholson, our housekeeper, per-
suaded me to swallow a cup of green tea before I left home, and
plague on't! it has shattered my nerves sadly."
" It's the punch you swallowed last night that has shattered
your nerves, nephew, and not the tea," rejoined Mr. Jukes,
shaking his head: t( I can't give you claret, or hock, but if a glass
of ale would sit well on your stomach n
" A glass of ale!" repeated Mr. Cripps, with infinite disgust.
" Faugh! I'll none of it. And as to punch, know, O ignorant
nunks, that the liquors quaffed by me last night were champagne,
burgundy, and hermitage. Thou starest, but 'tis a fact, 'pon rep I
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 3]
" Let us drink and be merry,
Dance, joke, and rejoice,
"With claret and sherry,
Theorbo and voice.
The changeable world
To our joy is unjust ;
All treasure's uncertain,
So down with your dust.
" Apropos of ' dust/ it was on that very subject I came hither. I
want you to post the cole, nunks to come down with the rhino
to disburse."
" I guessed your errand, Crackenthorpe," replied Mr. Jukes.
" You've been gaming, sirrah !"
" Why, i'faith, nunks, I must confess to a trifle lost at picquct
to the duke's gentleman," replied Mr. Cripps.
" What do you call a trifle, eh, nephew?" inquired Mr. Jukes.
"Why why " hesitated Mr. Cripps, applying to the snuff-
box, and endeavouring to carry off his embarrassment by addi-
tional assurance "twenty crowns not a farthing more, 'pon
rep!"
" Twenty crowns P exclaimed Mr. Jukes, raising his hands in
unfeigned astonishment. '" A valet drink champagne and bur-
gundy, and lose twenty crowns at picquet ! What will the world
come to I"
" No sermonizing, nunks," replied Mr. Cripps, " but down with
the dust, as I said before. What will you let me have ?"
" A crown, if it will rid me of you?" rejoined Mr. Jukes,
impatiently.
" Devil take me if I stir without ten crowns I" replied Mr.
Cripps. " Therefore, if you desire my absence, you will come
down at once. Ten, by this light ten."
" Well, anything to get rid of you," replied Mr. Jukes, " but
this is the last advance I'll ever makV
" So you always say, nunks," laughed the valet ; " but I'll
refund it in a week, 'pon rep I"
" I don't expect it," rejoined Mr. Jukes, unlocking a cupboard,
and opening a drawer within it, from which he took ten crown-
pieces. Remember, these are my savings, nephew."
" And you couldn't apply them to a better purpose than in
assisting your sister's son," returned the valet, coolly pocketing
the money. " Mille remercimens ! sha'n't forget the favour, 'pon
rep ! Hut I've trespassed too much on your time. Au revoir ! I
kiss your hand, nunks."
"Not so fast, Crackenthorpe," replied Mr. Jukes. "You must
do me a service in return for my loan. My master's nephew, Mr.
Randulph Crew, has just been introduced to Mr. Villiers; and my
master fears, and with reason, that this introduction will lead to
little good. But, be that as it may, you must bring me accurate
information of all their proceedings."
32 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Rely upon knowing every tiling, nunks," replied Mr. Cripps.
" I haven't done yet," pursued Mr. Jukes. There is a certain
Mr. Scarve who lives in the Little Sanctuary "
" What, the miser, whom folks nickname Starve ?" interrupted
Cripps. " I know him. My master has borrowed large sums of
monev from him. But what of him, minks?"
"Why, I wish to ascertain whether Mr. llandulph ever visits
the house that's all," rejoined Mr. Jukes.
" What ! old Abel is afraid of his nephew borrowing money,
eh ?" replied Mr. Cripps, laughing. Well, that can be easily
managed. A perruquier whom I patronize, Peter Pokerich by
name, lives opposite old Starve's dwelling, and must know his
servant, if he keeps one ; if not, he must know the miser him-
self. I'll get what you want from him, never fear. Any further
commands ?" he added, cocking his hat jauntily, and gracefully
twirling his cane, preparatory to his departure.
Before Mr. Jukes could reply, the door was opened, and Abel
Beechcroft entered the room. He stared so sternly at Mr. Cripps,
that the confidence of the latter completely deserted him, and
hastily taking off his hat, he would have retreated if Abel had
not stopped him.
"What are you doing here, rascal?" he asked.
" Only come to see my uncle, 'pon rep, Mr. Beechcroft !"
stammered the valet.
" Only come to rob him of his gains, knave, you mean," re-
joined Abel, sarcastically. But hark ye, sirrah! I, like my
butler, have a plague of a nephew, and he has just become
acquainted with your master your foppish, rakish, gambling
master, and I cannot hope will escape the taint of such in-
fectious society. Now, I want to know how quickly, and to
what extent, he becomes corrupted by it. You must play the
spy upon him, fellow."
"My uncle has told me your request, Mr. Beechcroft," rejoined
Mr. Cripps ; " but really, 'pon rep ! if you put the matter in such
an objectionable light if you term it ' playing the spy' I can-
not consistently with my my rep-rep-reputation, comply with
your request."
"What, you are scrupulous, eh, rascal?" laughed Abel,
(derisively, " and affect as nice a sense of honour as your master?
But like him, you have your price. Bring me the information I
require, and you shall have double the sum, whatever it may be,
out of which you have just cajoled your uncle."
" That will be twenty crowns, Mr. Beechcroft," replied Mr.
Cripps. " You're a shrewd judge of human nature, sir, 'pon rep !
and have discovered my weak point. No Cripps was ever proof
against a bribe."
"Then the bargain is concluded," replied Abel, impatiently.
"See him out of the house, Mr. Jukes. And then let this letter
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 3?
be taken to the post. Ah ! I hear my brother's and my nephew's
voices in the hall. Point out Mr. Randulph to your nephew,
Jukes."
The butler nodded, and departed with the valet, while Abel
returned to the library Trussell and Randulph were talking
and laughing in the hall. On seeing Mr. Cripps, the former
instantly directed his nephew's attention to him.
"As I live," he cried, " there is Beau Villiers' gentleman, Mr.
Cripp?. You must know him, Randulph. It is not amiss to be
on terms, even with the servants of the great. Mr. Cripps, a word
with you. There's a bow, Randulph, the true diving bow,
bringing the hair before, with the proper water-spaniel shake
afterwards, to restore it to its place. Then did you ever see such
a wig. such a cravat, or such a sword-knot ?"
" Never on a footman, unquestionably," replied Randulph.
" Mr. Cripps," continued Trussell, " this is my nephew, Mr.
Randulph Crew, a young gentleman new to the world, as I need
scarcely tell you. He has just been presented to your master, and,
I flatter myself, has already won his regards."
" Delighted to hear it, Mr. Trussell delighted," replied Mr.
Cripps, with another diving bow, "but not surprised. Fine
young man, 'pon rep! and only wants theje ne scais quoi air, which
my master will speedily impart to him, to be perfect. Egad, my
master must look to his laurels, Mr. Trussell, or your nephew may
rob him of 'em ha! ha! Condescend to try my snush, sir? It's
the beau's mixture, with a slight improvement of my own."
"Thankyc, thankye, Mr. Cripps," said Trussell, plunging his
fingers into the proffered box.
" What is it to be to-ni^ht, sir," inquired Mr. Cripps Ci the
ridotto at Ranclagh, the French play at the Haymarket, or Lady
Fa/akerly's drum?"
"I'faith, I don't know," replied Trussell, a little embarrassed.
"The truth is," he added, in an under-tone, "my brother is rather
strait-laced. He has prejudices to which we must occasionally
succumb."
" Mr. Cripps smiled significantly, and regaled his nostrils with
a very large pinch of snuff.
"You'll take care of my nephew's interest with your master,
Mr. Cripps," whispered Trussell, slipping a crown at the same
time into his hand.
" As of my own, Mr. Trussell, 'pon rep !" replied Mr. Cripps,
in the same tone.
With this, he inclined his person almost to the ground, and
departed.
" Well, I've made a tolerable thing of it to-day, 'pon rep!" he
muttered to himself, as he whisked out of the house. " Done
nunks out of ten crowns got the promise of twenty from old
Abel received one from Trussell. This Randulph Crew seems
J>
84? THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
to bring me good luck. On my way home I'll call on the little
barber put him on the miser's scent. Something is to be made
of this, I perceive. To-night I shall try my hand at the dice-box
at the Duke's.
" My fortune, I hope is reserved for this cast.
To make me a saver for all my life past ;
Be lucky this once, dice ! 'tis all I implore,
I'll reform then entirely, and tempt you no more."
In this way he went on soliloquizing and singing till he
reached his boat, which lay off the stairs near the palace, and,
jumping into it, ordered the waterman, with the air of a lord,
and several very fashionable imprecations, to row to Parliament
Stairs,
CHAPTER V.
ABEL AGAIN CAUTIONS HIS NEPHEW AGAINST THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
UNCLE ABEL did not join his nephew and brother till dinner
%was served, and took little part in the conversation that occurred
during the meal. Habituated to his humours, Trussell was as
lively and amusing as ever, and rattled away like a young man;
but Randulph could not help being oppressed by his elder uncle's
grave looks. He also felt, he scarcely knew why, dissatisfied with
himself, and wished to regain Abel's esteem. Thus the dinner
passed off; the cloth was removed, and the wine placed on the
board. The glasses were filled by the attentive Mr. Jukes, who
took especial care that on this occasion one of the oldest and
choicest bottles should be brought forth, and his attention was
speedily rewarded by a very beneficial change in his master's
temper.
" Well, Randulph," said Abel, while sipping his second glass,
<( how do you like your new society?"
(f I have seen so little of it at present, sir," replied the young
man, "that I can form no precise opinion; but I must say, that
I think Mr. Villiers the best bred man I have ever met with,
Lady Brabazon a woman 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 my feelings towards him are of the bitterest kind, and I
cannot endure to hear of any one connected with him."
" Well, sir, your wishes shall be obeyed, so far as it is in my
power to obey them," 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 you drive me mad ?"
" What have I said, sir?" asked the young man, in astonish-
ment.
" For Heaven's sake, hold your tongue !" whispered uncle Trus-
scll, 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 uncle
Trussell came to his relief.
" We are going to breakfast with Beau Villiers to-morrow
morning, sir," he said to his brother. " We were asked to Lady
Fazakerly'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 I Never mind me in-
future. 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.
D2
36 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
CHAPTER VI.
THE MISER AND JACOB A THIRD NEPHEW A DINNER AT THE MISER* S HILDA'S
OPINION OP HER COUSIN.
NOTHING very particular occurred at the miser's dwelling after
Rundulph's departure. Mr. Scarvc took a large account-book
from the box beneath his table, together with several papers,
from which he proceeded to make extracts; and he thus employed
himself for more than an hour and a half, when, his farthing
candle having burnt down into the socket, he intimated to his
daughter and Mrs. Clinton that it was time to retire to rest.
" You have sat up longer than usual," he said, " and 1 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."
te You have told me that before, sir," she replied, coldly.
*' And I have told you also, that it is my wish you 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 stairs 1 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 afterwards, Jacob returned, and set the expiring
candle on the table.
" Well, Jacob," said the miser to him, "what did you think of
our visitor to-day?"
" 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, gruffly.
"You're no judge of character," rejoined the miser, sharply.
4f I read the spendthrift in his whole appearance and demeanour.
In short, Jacob, I would rather see no more of him. If he
should call again, which is not unlikely, though 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."
" What !" exclaimed Jacob, "do you mean to shut your doors
ngainst 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. y
" When I ask your advice on tne subject, it will be time enough
to offer it," rejoined the miser. " You may now retire, Jacob.
But 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 rats, 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 was me," replied Jacob, doggedly.
" Oh I you confess it?" replied the miser, uneasily. " Where
do^you get your victuals from ? Who supplies you with them,
" Never you mind, sir," replied Jocob ; " so as it doesn't cost
you anything you needn't care."
"True, true I" said the miser; " and yet I should like to know
how you get your food."
" I don't steal it," replied Jacob. " But see, 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. Scarvc always arose at daybreak, and generally 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 room, and when summoned to breakfast by Mrs.
Clinton at nine o'clock, he descended with a large deed under
his arm. The 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 parties partook sparingly, and the meal was
soon ended. Hilda had generally little appetite, but on this
occasion she ate leas than usual, and her father remarked it.
" I fear 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
have 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 your hand. But if you are ignorant of
his intentions, I must now acquaint you 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 night.'*
38 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" So he appears, sir," replied Hilda, significantly.
" Philip is very rich, Hilda," pursued the miser ; " he is worth
fifty thousand pounds, if he is worth a penny. And, in short, it is
my pleasure, if he should propose to you, as I expect he 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 laot night," cried Mr. Scarve, carried away
by 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, Hilda," 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 woman
desires to marry. It is her first object what she is brought up
for the end and aim of her existence."
" But surely, father," 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 fancy.
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
pecuniary, 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
Sir 13 iioncy to
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 39
the deed before him. Hilda gazed at him for a moment, irre-
solutely, and then sighing deeply, 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 sharp features, dressed
in an old worn-out grey cloth coat, with plated metal buttons,
that might have belonged to his grandfather; a tattered plush
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
personage 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 poured 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 draught, but
with a very bad grace.
"I don't think for all he says 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 cent
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. My 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
lifetime."
40 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Not make any settlement ?" asked Philip, uneasily
"None whatever," replied the miser; "but I shall require
a settlement on your part. You are rich, Philip, and can make
a good settlement."
" No settlement on your part, uncle !" muttered Frewin, "and
a large one demanded on mine ! This requires consideration.'*
" No, it doesn't," said the miser, sharply; " for if you hesitate,
you sha'n't have her. My daughter shall not he 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 Bulkeley Price on the
mortgage of one of his estates in Flintshire. Now, the estate is
worth upwards of twenty thousand pounds perhaps more,
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 hereafter, and your children's."
" And mine" thought Philip. (f I sincerely congratulate you,
uncle," he added, aloud, " and hope nothing may happen to
deprive you of your rights."
" Nothing is likely to happen now, Philip," 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."
66 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. 4>
" That skinflint shall never marry my young missis," he 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^tiH
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, bursting into a loud laugh, he dashed his old wig to the
ground, and trampled upon it ; threw off his tattered coat and
waistcoat, and proceeded to rid himself of the rest of his attire.
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 get rid of those horrid masquerade habiliments,"
he muttered; "the part is a devilish disagreeable one to act.
But no matter it is worth 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 him 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 \cry 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 I" cried the miser, sharply. " 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't
want you to become the prey of an adventurer."
" If 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," slic
replied. " Recollect, too, that, owing to circumstances, you
have seen and known so little of him, that, but for the fact of Ins
being your nephew, he might be an entire stranger. Forgive
me, sir, if I say you are 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
have made inquiries through one who would not deceive me
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 ijood of him from Diggs," pur-
42 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
sued the miser, not choosing to notice the remark ; " and what
is better, I know for I have seen the will that his father left
him fifty thousand pounds fifty thousand pounds, Hilda!
twenty of which he shall settle on you."
" Do not suffer this notion to get possession of you, I entreat,
dear father," she replied. "If he had a million of money, I
would never marry Philip 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
temper.
CHAPTER VII.
THE PAYMENT OF THE MORTGAGE MONET.
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 appearance, 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-
ing, too I Faugh ! how the knave smells of beer !"
" If I have been eatin' and drinkin', 5 ' 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 these 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 you, 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 dav to be passed so much
*s I do this!"
" You excite my curiosity, father," said Hilda. " Why do you
wish it passed ?"
" Because, if a certain sum of money is not paid to me before
six o'clock, I shall be the possessor 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
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 his 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.
u Fourteen!" 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,' says he,
' that Sir Bulkeley Price has brought him his money. 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, "arid 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, Jacob!"
" It wont do, sir," replied Jacob; " they know you're at home,
for I told 'cm so. And as to refusing the money, 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 wife 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 ! lie is in time," cried the miser.
" But I'll be revenged. I'll have his blood if I can't have the
estate. My sword, Jacob I What ! you wont move ? Nay,
then, I'll fetch it myself." And opening a side-door, he rushed
up a small flight of steps 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 Btilkeley 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 money 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 higti
glee, and laughing loudly. The leader of the troop, Sir Bulkeley
Price, was a stout, portly gentleman, whose swollen inflamed
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 figure 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.
et 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 I I long to fly to
her assistance."
" Do, do !" cried Peter. " I'll fly with you."
" No, don't," said Mr. Deacle; " you had better not interfere.
Lord bless me I I wonder what it all means."
Heedless of what was passing around her, for she heard her
fathers 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
* Oli, sir, I implore you to go away ! My father is fearfully
incensed some mischief will happen !"
" You are Mr. Scarve's daughter, I presume ?" returned Sir
Bulkeley, politely taking off his hat. "I should never have sus-
pected him 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 Bulkeley ; " but your father has
forced me into the measure. My estate would have 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 appeared, brandishing his drawn sword at it. His ni 1
career was opposed by Jacob, whose wig was knocked off in his
endeavours to push him backwards.
" Villain!'' cried the miser, shaking his hand at Sir Bulkeley,
< villain, you shall repent your insolence ! Release me, Jacob I
Let me get at him !"
44 No, you sh'a'nt !" replied Jacob, who had to exert all his
strength, such was the miser's fury, to keep him 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 agony, and again addressed herself
to Sir Bulkeley.
" As you are a gentleman, sir, I beseech you to withdraw,"
she said.
" Such an appeal, and from such lips, is irresistible," replied
Sir Bulkeley, 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 Bulkeley; "another
lime will not do. I mustn't jeopardize my estate. Mr. Scarve,"
nc 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'clock. I will
take your word, Miss Scarve, for a receipt, and for the delivering
up of the mortgage deeds."
"Take hence your money, villain 1" 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, silence them, sir 1" cried Hilda, implor-
ingly.
Sir Btilkeley looked majestically round, and his attendants
became instantly mute. At the same time, Jacob forced Mr.
Scarve into the house ; and Hilda, hastily expressing her thanks
to the 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 heap 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 Bulkeley,
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 the hurry of the moment, it has been omitted to mention,
that when Hilda retired, the fair Thomasine uttered a scream,
and fainted. Made aware of the circumstance, both by the cry
and the disappearance of the mercer and his wife from the
windows, Peter Pokerich quitted his own dwelling, and flew to
render aid. With some 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 be
admirecl 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 sympathetic bosom I"
" What hinders you from doing so ?" asked the barber.
An hysterical sob was all the fair Thomasine's answer.
" Fourteen thousand pounds !" exclaimed Peter, almost uncon-
sciously. " 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; but 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 VIII.
THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER TUB LANDLORD OF THE ROSE AND CROWN CORDWELI*
FIREBRAS.
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 addressed 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,
his curiosity got the master of him, and he broke the seal; but
so dexterously and carefully, that he felt confident he could
restore the 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 have
heard ; but I'll 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
'ticed 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 the rats are greatly on the increase.
If the young squire can manage this, the sooner he comes the
better, but not otherwise. Meanwhile, I again advis3 you to
engage the bearer of this letter.
" Your assured friend,
NED 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 help thinking that more was meant than met the
eye, but still he 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
his curiosity. And with this intention he retired to rest.
" After all," said Peter, as he laid his head on his pillow, CC I
shouldn't wonder if that young man turned out a poacher. Now
I think of it, he certainly looks like one. Nobody but a poacher
would 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 potboy at the door whether a gentleman of
the name of Cordwell Firebras lodged there. The potboy could
give him no answer, but, applying 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 inquiry, asked
him what he wanted with Mr. Cordwell Firebras.
" A gentleman who has a letter for him called at my shop last
night," ?aid Peter, " and wished me to inquire whether he was
still here, that's all."
" Pray step this way, 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 reception,
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.
" All's 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 kard
&t him.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 49
"What wigs do you wear, friend?" he asked.
" On week days a minor bob, and on Sundays or holidays, a
bag," replied Peter, in increased astonishment.
<fc Hark ye, friend," said the landlord, eyeing his guest with
some suspicion," " can you tell me where the king is ?'"
" At Saint James's Palace, I suppose," replied Peter, inno-
cently.
" To be sure I" replied the landlord, laughing, and getting up;
" to be sure I Good morning, sir I"
" Stop, stop !" cried Peter, " I didn't come here to answer idle
questions. I want to know something about Mr. Cordwell
Firebras."
" I know nothing about him, sir," replied the landlord, eva-
sively " you must apply elsewhere."
Thus baffled, Peter was obliged to return to his own dwelling;
and his mind was so fully occupied with Randulph Crew and the
mysterious Cordwell Firebras, that he could scarcely attend to
his business. About four o'clock, as he was sitting in his shop,
combing out a flaxen periwig, Mr. Crackenthorpe Cripps came
in, and, flinging himself into a seat, said " Scatter some ptilvilio
over me, Pokcrich ! for the tar and paint of the wherry I have
just quitted have quite overcome me."
Having recovered breath, the valet then preceded to explain,
the business with which he had been charged by his uncle, and.
lie found a ready agent in the barber, who, however, explained
to him the difficulty of obtaining any precise information of what
passed in the miser's duelling. White discussing this matter, it
occurred to Peter that Mr. Cripps was a proper person to consult
about the mysterious letter. He knew that the valet was a
person of no particular scruples, and might be safely confided in.
He therefore showed him the letter. Mr. Cripps read it over
twice or thrice, and at last said " Egad, I cannot tell what to
make of it, but I'll soon find out the meaning of the riddle.
Make it up again, arid I'll deliver it myself to Mr. Cordwell
Firebras."
" When will you take it?" asked the barber, after he had care-
fully fastened up the seal.
" At once," replied Mr. Cripps. " I'm in the humour for an
adventure. I'll return directly, and report my success."
He accordingly set forth, and encountering an empty chair as
he entered the area in front of the Abbey, got into it, and told
the bearers to proceed to the Rose and Crown. Arrived there,
with all the assurance he could muster, he strutted into the bar,
and, flourishing his cane, inquired for Mr. Cordwell Firebras.
The landlord stared at him somewhat suspiciously, but returned
no anssver; and Mr. Cripps, calling to mind the barber's account
of his interview, took up a chair, as if accidentally, and struck it
thrice on the floor. This operation a<;ted like magic on the
E
50 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
landlord. He made a peculiar sign in return, and said " He
is not here now, sir; indeed, he seldom visits us, except in a,,
evening. But you'll find him at his lodgings, in Ship Yard, not
a stone's throw from this." And he added in a lower tone, as
Mr. Cripps bowed in acknowledgment " The club meets here,
sir."
" Oh, indeed !" exclaimed Mr. Cripps. " What! every night ?"
" Every Friday night, at eleven," replied the landlord. " But
may I ask you, sir, where the king is?"
"Over the water," rejoined Cripps; and he thought to him-
self, " A nice Jacobite's nest I've stumbled upon now. i' faith."
"I see it's all right," said the landlord, smiling. And he
accompanied the valet to the door, ushered him tc his chair, and
told the bearers where to take him. Mr. Cripps speedily arrived
at his destination, and was deposited at the door of a small and
unpretending-looking house. A middle-aged woman of respect-
able appearance answered his knock, and informed him that Mr.
Cordwell Firebras lodged there, but she was not certain whether
lie was within. Judging from her manner that she only wished
to ascertain whether her lodger would receive him, Mr. Cripps
thought it better to secure the interview by delivering his creden-
tials. He did so accordingly, and the result was such as he anti-
cipated. She returned in a few minutes, saying that Mr. Firebras
was at home, and would be happy to see him.
Mustering all his resolution, Mr. Cripps strutted after her,
and was ushered into a small room, in which was a middle-aged
gentleman, who immediately advanced towards him. Mr. Cripps
had sufficient knowledge of the world to see at once that he had
a very dangerous person to deal with, and that it behoved him
to be careful how he proceeded. Never had he seen such broad
shoulders, such muscular legs, and such a burly frame, as were
possessed by the individual before him. Mr. Cordwell Firebras
was a little below the middle height, and his squareness of figure,
aided by a loose coat of dark brown cloth, edged with silver,
which reached half way down his legs, made him look almost as
broad as long. His features were somewhat coarse, his cheek
bones high, his complexion light, and his beard, brows, and eye-
lashes of a sandy hue. Altogether he had the look of a Scots-
man. His chin was large and broad, evincing the utmost deter-
mination, mixed with considerable craftiness; his mouth wide,
his nose broad and flat, and his eyes of a light grey. He wore a
flaxen bob wig, which harmonized well with his light complexion,
and carried a broad-bladed sword, evidently intended more for
use than ornament. To this not very prepossessing exterior,
Mr. Cordwell Firebras added easy, affable, and almost graceful
manners. It was quite clear to Mr. Cripps that he was acting
upon the instructions of his correspondent, for he received him
with the greatest cordiality, shook him by the hand, and motioned
THE MISER'S DAUGHTEPx. 51
him to be seated. It did not escape Mr. Cripps, in the hastv
survey he took of the room, that there was a basket-hiked sword
in the corner, together with a brace of long barrelled silvcr-
nioiintcd pistols, and a Highland dirk. Nor did he fail to notice
that the window opened upon a small garden, skirting Saint
James's Park, thus offering a ready means of escape, if required.
These things considered, Mr. Cripps did not feel entirely at his
ease, and it required all his effrontery to enable him to go through
with his part. Whether it was that Cordwell Firebras perceived
his uneasiness, or that his quick perception of character detected
the imposition attempted to be practised upon him, is imma-
terial, but his countenance suddenly changed, and the affable,
almost courtier-like manner with which he had commenced, gave
way to a stern scrutinizing glance and freezing demeanour that
made the valet tremble. They were alone, for having ushered
Mr. Cripps into the room, the elderly female retired, closing the
door after her.
" You are lately from the country, sir, I believe ?" asked
Firebras.
'* Just arrived, sir," replied Mr. Cripps, taking out his snuff-
box to hide his confusion " allow me to offer you a pinch."
Firebras bowed and accepted the offer. A peculiar smile,
which the valet did not like, crossed his features.
" I must compliment you upon your air and manner, sir,"
said Firebras, in a tone of slight irony; "they are anything but
rustic. But may I now ask whom I have the honour of
addressing?"
"Mr. Randulph Crew!" replied the valet, confidently.
" Randulph Crew !" exclaimed Firebras, almost starting.
"What ! the son of my old friend, Randulph Crew ? Impossible !"
" I am not aware that my father enjoyed the honour of your
friendship, sir," replied the valet, who began to fear he had got
on ticklish ground, " but my name is Randulph Crew, and so was
my father's before me."
Though the day was by no means chilly, there was a small
fire burning in the grate. Mr. Cordwell Firebras placed the
letter which he held in his hand before it, and certain lines of
writing, traced in invisible ink, instantly appeared. These he
eagerly scanned.
" It is useless to trifle longer, sir," he cried, turning suddenly
upon the valet. " You are an impostor. For what purpose are
you come hither? Answer me, or your life shall pay the forfeit
of your rashness."
As he spoke, he drew his sword. Mr. Cripps, though greatly
alarmed, drew likewise, but his blade was instantly beaten from
his grasp by Firebras.
" Raise a cry, and you are a dead man 1" pursued the latter,
E 2
52 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
locking the door, and putting the key in his pocket. " Who are
you, sirrah ?"
"My name is Crackenthorpe Cripps, and I am chief valet to
Beau Villiers," returned the other, bowing.
" You are a spy, rascal !" cried Firebras. " You have come on
an errand of the danger of which you were ignorant. But you
will get nothing for your pains."
" Pardon me, Mr. Firebras," said the valet, who was by no
means destitute of courage, or at all events, of the quality next
in value to it self-possession. I have gained my object. I have
discovered the existence of a Jacobite club, of which you are a
member. I have discovered that there is a plot hatching in
Cheshire, and can easily find out who is implicated in it; and I
have only to give information to a magistrate, and your arrest
must follow,"
" Well, sir," replied Firebras, calmly-" well, sir ?"
"But I have no such intention," continued Mr Cripps;
" your secret is safe with me, provided "
"You are paid for your silence ha?"
" Precisely, Mr. Firebras. I am not a Jacobite, neither am I
an Hanoverian ; and I care as little for the Elector as I do for
young Perkin. The fact is, you are in my power, sir, and I
shall make the most of m.y position. Buy me, and I will deal
with you fairly."
" Hum !" said Firebras, looking fixedly at him ; " well, I will
einplov you, and will also make it worth your while to be true lo
me. Randolph Crew has of course lost this letter. I will not
inquire how it came into your hands; but he cannot be aware
that it has reached me. My correspondent says he is about to
visit his uncle, Mr. Abel Beechcroft, and cautions me against
that gentleman."
"And with reason, sir," remarked Mr. Cripps; "I, also,
advise you to beware of him. My uncle is Mr. Beechcroft 's
butler."
" Then, from your connexion, you may materially aid me in
my designs upon this young man," said Firebras. " You must
take a letter from me to him."
"With pleasure," replied Mr. Cripps; "and it fortunately
happens that he is to breakfast with my master to-morrow moni-
ing, when I can easily deliver it."
61 Good," replied Firebras, " I will prepare it at once."
With this, he sat down to a side table on which writing mate-
rials were placed, and with much deliberation penned a despatch,
and sealed it. He then opened a secret drawer, and took out
five guineas, which he gave to the valet.
" It is perhaps a needless piece of trouble to seal the letter,"
lie observed, significantly; " but you will learn nothing by open-
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 53
ing it beyond the fact that I desire an interview with Mr. Crew.
I know 1 can trust yon."
" Oh, you may trust to my honour, Mr. Firebras, 'pon rep.!"
said the valet, placing his hand upon his breast.
" I trust to the value you place on your own safetv, Mr.
Cripps," replied Firebras, "significantly. "Attempt to play me
false, and nothing shall save you from my vengeance ! I "have
secret agents who will find sure means of reaching you."
These words were pronounced in a tone and with a look that
impressed Mr. Cripps with a full sense of the speaker's power of
executing his threat.
" You need be under no apprehension about me, Mr. Firebras,"
he said.
"I am under none, fellow!" rejoined the other, laughing
scornfully; "or you should never quit this room alive. Come
to me to-morrow night, at ten. I may have more work for you."
" Willingly," replied Mr. Cripps.
Firebras then unlocked the door, and let out the valet, who
was ushered to his chair by the elderly female. As he took his
place within it, having first ordered the bearers to convey him to
the spot where they took him up, he muttered to himself" So
the adventure has terminated very satisfactorily. This Randulph
Crew seems destined to make my fortune. Everybody pays me
to play the spy upon him. That Cordwell Firebras is an
awkward customer, lie has an eye that looks through one, and
seems to penetrate one's very soul. It wont do .to play cross
with him. But I must trump up some story to delude the little
barber. I'll tell him that nothing is to be made of it put him
off in some way."
Thus musing, he was conveyed to the entrance of the Little
Sanctuary, where he alighted, discharged the chair, and bent
his steps towards Peter Pokerich's shop, with the full determina-
tion of putting his design into execution.
CHAPTER IX.
THE STRANGER AT THE BARBE&'s.
NOTWITHSTANDING his engagement to Beau Villicrs, Rnn-
dulph, accustomed to early hours, and blessed, moreover, with a
very healthy appetite, needed no urging on the part of Mr. Jukes
to sit down at eight o'clock, on the second morning after his
arrival in town, to a sort of preliminary breakfast with uncle
Abel. Glad of the excuse for a little extra indulgence in repose,
Trusscll did not rise till late, and Randulph was therefore left to
54 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
a tete-a-tete with his elder uncle. Whether it was that Abel was
in a better humour than before, or that he was not fretted by
Trussell, whose remarks, however well meant, generally tendecl
to excite his cynical propensities, Randulph could not tell, but
he certainly found him more agreeable than he had previously
thought him. Abel questioned his nephew narrowly as to his
tastes and pursuits, and seemed pleased with the answers he
received. In fact, things went on so prosperously, that Mr.
Jukes, who was carving a fine Westphalia ham at the well-spread
side-board, suspended his operations to rub his hands with
delight. Abel noticed his exhilaration, and guessing the cause,
could not refrain from smiling, and Randulph thought he had
never seen so pleasant a smile before. Abel's heart, indeed, it
was evident, was warming towards his nephew ; and he made no
attempt to check the kindly feeling. He descanted with much
force and truth on the dangers to which a young man must be
exposed on his first entrance into the world, but exhibited far
less straitlacedness than might have been expected. He ad-
vised his nephew to mix with society, but not to become a part
of it; to use, but not abuse, the advantages nature had given
him ; and to push his fortune to the utmost ; displaying through-
out the whole discourse a shrewdness of observation, a nice per-
ception of character, and a knowledge of the world, for which
Randulph had not given him credit, and which raised him
materially in his opinion. On one point only the young man
thought him guilty of injustice namely, in the bitter and dis-
paraging view he took of w r omen. On this head, therefore, he
ventured to differ with him, and his zeal and earnestness appeared
to interest Abel. When he had done, the old man shrugged his
shoulders, and contented himself with saying, " You'll think
differently one day."
Randulph would have replied, but a plate of ham, accompanied
by a significant look from the discreet butler, warned him not to
pursue the subject further. Accordingly, he was silent, and
Abel returned to his exposition and dissection of society with
the same earnestness as before.
" About half-past ten Trussell made his appearance. He was
dressed with unusual care ; had a world of the finest lace at his
wrists and on his breast ; and wore a green velvet coat, richly
embroidered, a satin waistcoat of the same colour, woven with
gold, and diamond buckles at his knees, as well as on his shoes.
The only part of his attire which appeared to be neglected was
his peruke, and this did not escape Abel's attention, as he scanned
him contemptuously from head to foot.
" It's all very well," he said, drily ; " you arc sufficiently bc-
Jaced and be-scented to fit you for the beau's society ; but your
wig is out of order."
" Why you don't surely think I am going in this old peruke,
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 55
sir ?" rejoined Trussell, smiling. " No, no ! I'm not quite so care-
less. IVe sent my best periwig to be dressed by Peter Pokerich,
the barber in the Little Sanctuary, and mean to put it on as we
pass on our way to Spring Gardens, where, as you know, Mr
Villiers resides."
" A barber in the Little Sanctuary !" cried Randulph ; " why
he must be the very person I met when "
Here a stern look from uncle Abel stopped him, and called
the colour to his cheeks.
" Why did you send it there ?" remarked Abel, angrily, to his
brother. '" Was there no other barber near at hand ?"
" Oh yes, sir, plenty," replied Trussell ; " but Pokerich under-
stands the mode, and I desired to appear to advantage on this
occasion. I wish I could induce you to adopt the present fashion,
Randulph. Your own hair is certainly very fine, but a periwig
would be far more becoming."
" Be natural as long as you can, and keep your own hair,
llandulph," said Abel.
" I intend to do so, sir," replied the young man.
' ( But at ail events, your dress must be improved," pursued
Trussell. " I will introduce you to M. Desmartins, the French
tailor, in Piccadilly. He will make you quite another thing."
4< And empty your purse at the same time," sneered Abel.
" Wear out the dress you have on. It's almost new."
" It is quite new," said Randulph, a little abashed. " It was-
made expressly for my visit to town, by Stracey, of Chester, who
works for all the best people in the county."
4i Stracey, of Chester ha I ha !" exclaimed Uncle Trussell,
jeeringly. You had better put by Mr. Stracey for your return.
But it is time we started. I must stop a few minutes at Poke-
rich's."
They then set forth, and it was with a throbbing heart that the
young man again found himself beside the dwelling of the miser's-
daughter. He gazed eagerly at it, in the hope of catching a
glimpse of Hilda, but could discern nothing through the barred
and dust-begrimed windows.
" May I ask what is the cause of Uncle Abel's aversion to
Mr. Scarve ?" he inquired of Trussell.
" I would rather not be questioned on that subject," replied the
other, " because I am quite sure, if I told you, Abel would dis-
cover, from your manner, that I had disclosed his secret. By-
the-by," he added, " is Hilda Scarve really a fine girl?"
Randulph returned a rapturous affirmative.
"Egad, then," pursued Trussell, as if debating some matter
with himself, "I don't know whether one speculation would not
be as good as t'other !"
" What do you mean, uncle ?" inquired Randulph.
" Why, that a marriage with Hilda Scarve might answer as
56 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
well as waiting for Abel's money,'* replied Trussell ; "the miser
must be immensely rich immensely I I'll call on him one of
these days, and sound him on the subject of the union."
"Recollect your brother's injunctions, sir!" rejoined Ran-
dulph, who was, however, so enchanted by the proposition, that
he could have flung his arms round his uncle's neck, and hugged
him " it may be hazardous."
" Tut tut!" exclaimed Trussell, " he'll never hear of it. They
have no sort of communication. Abel hates him like the devil as
well he may. But I must not say more. And here we are at
PokcrichV;
With this he entered Peter's shop. The little barber was
engaged at the moment in shaving a customer, and called to his
apprentice to set chairs for the new comers. He did not at first
notice Randulph, who was behind his uncle ; but when the young
man came into full view, his hand trembled so much that the
razor slipped, inflicting a slight wound on the chin of the
gentleman he was shaving.
" Have a care, fellow !" cried this person, angrily ; " you have
cut me."
" Ten thousand pardons, sir," apologized Peter ; " it is not
much, sir a mere trifle a little sticking-plaster will set all to
rights."
So saying he very dexterously wiped off the lather, and
bathing the gentleman's cheek with warm water, speedily suc-
ceeded in stanching the blood. He then finished shaving him,
and taking a light flaxen wig from a block hard by, fitted it on
his head. This done, the gentleman arose, walked towards a
glass, to ascertain the extent ot the injury he had received, and
finding it very trifling laughed good humouredly. He was a
middle-sized man, remarkably squarely and powerfully built; and
as the barber assisted him to put on his coat, and fasten on his
sword, Randulph could not help noticing his great apparent
strength of frame.
" You have not a very steady hand, friend," remarked the
stranger, as he took out his purse to pay the barber.
%t 1 never made such a mistake before, sir," replied Peter,
" never, on my honour."
" Then I suppose it was this young gentleman who startled
you," replied the other, laughing, "for the accident occurred just
as he entered your shop."
" Why, really, I was rather surprised to see him, I must own,"
returned Peter. "Mr. Randulph Crew, your most obedient."
"What!" cried the stranger, with a look of astonishment.
"Is that Mr. Randulph Crew?"
It was now Randulph's turn to appear surprised.
"You will wonder at my exclamation, sir," pursued the
stranger, advancing towards him ; " but I knew a gentleman of
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 57
your name, which is not a very common one, in Cheshire, years
ago knew him intimately."
~ u Probably, my father," said Randolph.
" He is well, I hope?" asked the other.
" Alas, sir, I lost him a year ago," replied Randolph.
Here the conversation dropped, for the stranger seemed a little
embarrassed, as if he had something to say. and'yetdid not know
how to set about it. He glanced at Trussell, who had taken his
seat, and was submitting his bald pate to Peter, while the latter
was adjusting upon it, with the utmost care, a very well-powdered
peruke.
" Is that a relative of yours?" asked the stranger of Randulnh.
" My uncle, sir," replied the young man.
" Indeed !" exclaimed the stranger. And he again hesitated.
" A very singular person," thought Randolph.
" There," cried Trussell, rising, and looking at himself in the
glass ; " that'll do capital capital I"
* Mr. Scarve lives over the way, barber, I believe ?" said the
stranger to Peter.
" He docs, sir," replied the latter. " That's the house. A very
strange affair occurred there yester-evening."
" What might that be ?" inquired the stranger.
" Why," replied the barber, "about five o'clock the whole street
was alarmed by the arrival of a troop of fourteen horsemen, each
with a thousand pounds in a couple of bags at his saddle bow.
Well, sir, these horsemen stopped at the miser's door, and threw
down their bags before it ; and it turned out to be the payment
of the sum t>t* fourteen thousand pounds borrowed from old
Starve beg pardon, Scarve on mortgage by Sir Bulkeley
Price, and which the latter was obliged to pay at a certain time,
or his estate would have been foreclosed. It was a near run for
Sir Bulkeley: he only just saved his distance. Ah! you should
have seen how the old miser raved and swore when he found
himself robbed of his prey. But for his daughter's interference,
he would certainly have laid violent hands on the kuight.
Ha! ha!"
Randulph, whose breast was agitated with conflicting feelings,
was about to question the barber further as to Hilda's conduct on
the occasion, when he was checked by the stranger, who, turning
hastily to Peter, said, " This is an unheard of 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/'
"You surprise me," exclaimed the stranger: il I must have a
tvord with Mr. Scarve on the subject. Good morning, gentle-
5S THE MISERS DAUGHTER.
men. Mr. Randolph Crew, we 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 Trussell 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
customers' names."
Randulph, meanwhile, ran to the door, to see how the stranger
would be received, and was somewhat chagrined to find that
Jacob, after reconnoitring him according to custom, and detain-
ing him while he consulted his master, admitted him.
" He will see Hilda," sighed the young man.
" Come, nephew, come 1" 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 EMBARKATION FOR THE FOLLY.
BEAU VILLIERS' residence looked upon Saint James's Park, and
had a small garden attached to it. It was by no means a large
house, but exquisitely furnished ; the whole 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 the 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 wearing 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 which a
number of persons were assembled, most of whom being known
to Trussell, he very courteously returned their salutations.
"Ah, moil ami, 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, enchante!" replied
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 59
the Frenchman. "Your nephew has a very fine figure, ma foi!
But his dress is not at all a-la-mode. Very clownish what vou
call it ? countrified 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 Randolph.
" Ah, Mr. Penrose, is that you ?" pursued Trussell, turning to
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 Mr. Villiers' permission to give it his
name."
"And if he grants it, your 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 figure, velvet
cap, boots, and other equipments, left no doubt as to his being a
jockey, " what news from Newmarket ? Has Lord Haversham
won the cup, or Sir John Fa<rg?"
"Neither, sir," replied the jockey. "Mr. Villiers is the
winner."
"Bravo! bravissimo !" cried Trussell, clapping his hands;
" that's famous ! 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
person 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
Culpcpper, 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. Randulph, 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,
<JO THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
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 Randolph was returning the fencing- master's bow, the
door of the inner room was opened by Mr. Cripps. On dis-
cerning 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 beau's
dressing-chamber, that part of it, however, devoted to the
toilette-table and its appliances being separated from the rest by
a magnificent Indian japanned screen. It was furnished with
the most refined and luxurious taste. Rose-coloured 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 monkey, clothed in a scarlet coat,
and wearing a bag-wig and a little sword, played its diverting
tricks in one corner, while a gaudilv plumaged 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 eyes, 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 easiest of easy chairs, Beau Villiers. He did not
rise on the appearance of his guests; but moving slightly, 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 open 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 very 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 twirling 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 glass of claret, constituted the beau's break-
fest. Sir Singleton Spinke took chocolate, picked the wing of a.
THE MISERS DAUGHTER. 61
chicken, and wound himself up with a glass of usquebaugh
Ample justice was done to the cutlets, the broils, and various
other dishes with which the covers were filled, by Sir Bulkeley
Price ; nor did Trussell or Randulph come far behind him,
notwithstanding the preliminary breakfast of the latter. Just
before the introduction of the usquebaugh, Sir Bulkeley, after
looking round and coughing significantly, said, in a low tone, to
the chief valet, "I suppose, Mr. Cripps, there is no ale in the
house ?"
" No what! Sir Bulkeley?" rejoined Mr. Cripps, staring as if
he could not possibly imagine he had heard aright.
"Ale, rascal ale!" replied the knight, emphatically, and
rather angrily.
" No, Sir Bulkeley /'replied Mr. Cripps, bowing; "there is no
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 lie
pledged the old beau, entirely appeased him. The conversation
during the meal was lively enough, and was chiefly 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 Highgatc, and offered to escort me
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; "lam
almost 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 daughter is a charming girl beautiful as an angel, 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
Indie:."
62 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" But you have never seen her, or you would alter your
opinion," replied Sir Bulkclcy. " 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 propos of beauty," he added to
Randulph, who could scarcely hide his uneasiness ; " don't you
think Clementina Brabazon a fine girl, Mr. Crew?''
" Remarkably so," replied the young man, distractedly.
" 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." 1
" And who might be the exception?" inquired Trussell.
" I am glad you have asked me," replied 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, I might have had the
honour of being your father."
" The supposition is highly nattering," 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 prettiest woman of her day is Kitty Con way,
the actress at the little theatre in the Hayrnarket."
" Kitty is certainly a vastly pretty creature," rejoined Trussell;
66 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
\ve spend the morning, gentlemen ? At the cock-pit, the Groom
Porter's, the Cocoa-tree, or White's?"
" If you desire something new, sir," observed Mr. Cripps, who
lingered for a moment, " there is a jrrand 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 beau. "I have often rowed
past the Folly, but never have been inside it."
" Then don't neglect the present opportunity," said Sir Sin-
gleton. (l It used to be a pleasant place, when we were young:
fellows, Trussell. 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. 1 shall be glad to see the place
again."
"The Folly be it, then I" cried the beau; "and some folks
would say it was a proper place for us. Excuse me for a few
moments, gentlemen. I will dress as rapidly as possible." So
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. f3
saying, he retired behind the screen, which was drawn still
further across the room. Not feeling much interest in the con-
versation which ensued after the beau's withdrawal, Randolph
arose to look at some exquisite miniatures and other articles of
vcrtu scattered about the room, and was engaged in exarninino;
a magnificent snuff-box, when Mr. Cripps, who had returned
from attending his master, came up to him, and said in a low
iorie, " 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 die valet, who, giving him to understand by
sundry winks and slight gestures, that his uncle was to know
nothing of the matter, glided away. Glancing at the group near
the table, the young man perceived that TrusselPs 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 your
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 south 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 safety 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."
" Cord well 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 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 will keep the appointment."
As 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 TrusselPs
round face peeping over his shoulder. He instantly crushed the
letter between his fingers.
"Nay, you had better let me see it," laughed Trussell; I
overheard your exclamation. What fair dame has fallen 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
wont 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.
" Yo;: arc mistaken, uncle !" cried Randulph, hastily ; " my
appointment is with ," and checked himself.
" Poh, poh ! boy, no excuses with me," interrupted Trusscll.
fc Keep your own counsel. Fortunate dog! I was as luckv
myself \vhen I was as young. Hal ha! But," he added, with
a look of some 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 1 Your nephew makes his way rapidly,
Mr. Trussell, 'pon rep 1"
" So it appears," rejoined Trussell, laughing louder than ever.
" Myself over again ha I ha !"
Randulph was about to contradict the valet's assertion, and ?ct
his uncle 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 fourth
attendant handed him his snuff-box.
" And now, gentlemen, I am at. your service," said the 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 for his
success, announcing to the perfumer 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 gny throng, as on
the preceding day. Wherever they went, Beau Villiers drew all
eyes upon him, and to llandulph'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 Price quitted them, having
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER C3
first engaged Randulph and his uncle to dine with him at his
house in Saint James's Square on the following day. 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, c 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 Whitehall Stairs, where Mr. Cripps called a boat,
in which they all embarked for the Folly.
Randulph had detected the stranger among the crowd of
lookers-on at the Groom-porter's, and their boat had not got
many 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 FIREBRAS.
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 administered 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
place 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."
u 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
deficiency, let Sir Bulkeley look to it. Take them up stair?,
Jacob."
The injunction was promptly obeyed, and Jacob had just com-
pleted 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, he will witness my mortification. Jacob, if it should
be Mr. Diggs, 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."
k< 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 attorney, 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
chair 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 ee I
hope you are well, sir? From what I heard from your nephew,
who has 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.
" I am sorry to hear it," replied the other " very sorry. But
I feared as much from your* countenance."
u 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."
(VtPi-0^ e.viuJts'i.a/H^C-
Folly on the
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 67
" Why, what interest, except professionally, can you feel in
the matter?" said the miser, coldly.
" I take as much interest in the affairs of my clients as in my
own," rejoined Diggs ; " and it so happens you 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 eyes 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 docs 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 are both good:
clients, and having the interests of both sincerely at heart, I should
like to see you 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 his hands. I need not remind you of the large
fortune he inherited from his father, whose will you have seen,
but I may tell you because I have no interdiction from him
against so cloing that by the fortunate disposition of that money,
by loans and otherwise, he has already added twenty thousand
pounds 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
F2
68 'THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
give him credit for the prudence he possesses if he wore to
accept your daughter without some marriage portion. It is not
that he wants the money, nor that he doubts your ultimate 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 I" exclaimed Scarve. 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 make a sacrifice
for her."
" He makes no sacrifice, sir," cried Scarve. sharply " 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
matter for I will presume Mr. Fre\vin'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 that case, there can be nothing to hinder it," rejoinei
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
a 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 DAUGHTER. 09
" I act as I believe for 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. Villiers; the
annuity from Sir Thomas Lightfoot; and the four thousand
pounds Lady Brabazon wants to borrow." And he forthwith
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 all 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. The 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 was 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
one of 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
floor was covered with gold. The miser gazed at the shining
treasure, vainly 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 master, crept stealthily to
the ladies' chamber, and tapped against the door. The summons
was immediately answered by Hilda, who anxiously inquired
what was the matter. 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 listening and it's not my habit, I assure you; but being
aware that Mr. Diggs is Mr. Philip's attorney, as well as master's,
and couplin' his visit with what occurred this morning, I had
Fome 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 mv
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 miser's
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. 71
" Lord bless us !" exclaimed Jacob, lowering the pistol; how
you do frighten one ! I took you for a housebreaker, and I'm not
quite 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 1
'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 cheer ?"
" 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 r"
" 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 daylight, 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
Y2 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
\vhich they were left alone together. He then, without any cir-
cumlocution, and in a much more peremptory 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 in-
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 then
resolutely returned to the account-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} 7 , 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. 73
his master to put it on. This done, he brought 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 evcninsr, Jacob," he said. u 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 growing
upon you, and I am weary of it."
With this he descended to the lower room, and, taking some
papers from Cordwcll Fircbras, which the latter had been read-
ing, put them in his pocket, and they quitted the house together.
CHAPTER XIL
HILDA'S INTERVIEW WITH ABEL BEECHCROFT.
JACOB lost not a moment in communicating his master's departure
to his young mistress, 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
befriend 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 aunt.
" Why, that must be the uncle of the young man who was here,
the ninht before last. I cannot take it to him"
" Why not?" cried Mrs. Clinton.
" Because it would look like but why need I care what con-
struction is put upon my visit, since my heart acquits me of amr
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 grcaS
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 Jacsb. Instead
of going over Westminster Bridge they 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 Thames could have done, speedily landed her at Lambeth,
and secured the boat, where he inquired 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. Jukes, 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, disclosing: a collection of goodly tomes, and had
placed the book-stand 311 porting 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 masters
chair, leaned over it, and whispered a few words in his ear.
"What! who I 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 put that question to her yourself, sir," replied
Mr. Jukes, "for she is i " this room."
" Here 1" 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
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 75
have admitted her," he added, in a low tone, "but that she told
me the letter was written by 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 lace 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 not shrink from it. How
can I serve you ?"
Hilda then proceeded to explain the object of her visit. Abel
listened to her recital with a quivering lip and flashing 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 your 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 fearful spell is there in that word ! what a host
of feelings docs 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 ma} r , it is plain she felt she had 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 injunction, 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, llandulph 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 with
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 from
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 perhaps put an end to the matter.
He lives in Fcnchurch-street, YOU say. It so happens that an
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. "77
old friend of mine, a widow lady, Mrs. Verral, a friend of your
mother's, by-the-by, resides in that street. She is an excellent
woman, but a little of a busy-body and a gossip, 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
such a step necessary."
" I will do as you suggest, sir," replied Hilda; "but suppose
I should encounter my cousin ?"
" Tell him where 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 P he said, affection-
ately. " If called upon by circumstances, you shall never want a
fat her 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
her 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
of 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 P
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 XIII.
THB FOLLY ON THE THAMES KITTY CONWAY RANDULPH PLACED IN AN
AWKWARD SITUATION BY PHILIP FKEWIN.
THE Folly on the Thames, whither Beau Villiers and his party
were steering their course, 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 thither the merry monarch,
who was excessively fond of aquatic amusements 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 years, until at length, degene-
rating in its character, it became the haunt of a very disreputable
part of the community. 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 delightful
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. >70
the view of the Thames from its summit being enchanting
The coolness and freshness, combined with the enlivening influ-
ences of beauty, wine, and music, made it, on its first establish-
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, they perceived a
number 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 brilliancy of her hazel eyes; and
wore a pink silk hooped gown, made very low in front, so as to
display her beautifully-formed 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-
en p, and a necklace of precious stones, from which depended a
diamond cross, completed her attire. The young 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 indifference, 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 you the little Hay market actress, Kitty Conway!"
" Kitty Conway! where is she?" cried Trussell-, 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 bight.
"Well, isn't she delicious?" cried Trussell to Randulph.
SO THE MISER'S DAUGHTER
" Egad ! you have made a conquest of pretty Kitty, my boy. I
saw the parting glance she gave you. over her shoulder as she
whisked through the door. Don't lose sight of her. You can
soon put the city beau, by whom she is attended, hors de combat"
Further remarks were interrupted by the arrival of the boat at
the steps. A strange, black muzzled fellow, in a Guernsey 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
rejoinder, he well-nigh lost his balance in his glee and got a
tumble into the water.
The 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. Up-
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
to allow Kitty Conway 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 Kitty'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 bashfulneFS 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 consequence to himself, he was weak
enough to be gratified by them. Towards the close of the figure,
a particular step, executed by the pretty actress, elicited more
than usual rapture from Sir Singleton, and he called to Ran-
dulph u Look at her, Mr. Randulph Crew. Is it not delicious ?"
At the sound of this name, Kitty's partner started, and stared
eo hard at Randulph, that he could scarcely finish the dance.
" Upon my word, Philip Frewin, you are a very stupid 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
s 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 speedily placed glasses before them, and
opened a bottle of champagne. It must be confessed unwilling
t*s we arc to admit it that Randulph was not altogether prooi
THE MISERS DAUGHTER. 8J
against the undisguised admiration of the pretty actress, and that
he could not help returning the tender glances she shot towards
him.
Meanwhile, the performances went forward; an Irish jig
followed, in which Randulph and Sir Singleton joined ; this was
succeeded by some comic songs; and Mr. Villiers, who did not
altogether relish the entertainment, walked forth, and was soon
after followed by 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 with 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 sec whether 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, lie started as if an apparition had met
his gaze, ducked down, 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 fiend to convict him, 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
a
82 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
unhesitatingly consented ; and, taking Kitty's hand, which she
very graciously accorded, rewarding his attention by a slight
squeeze, led her down the steps. All this occurred to the infinite
amusement of Trussell, who stood a little hack 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 skiff, 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! mis?,
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 bean, 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 oat of
sight; but Hilda did not look back.
Meanwhile, as Philip Frewin did not make his appearance,
Kitty Con way 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.
RandnlplL's inter vie-w with CordweJ] Firebras in th.e Q<
.-tminster A!
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. S3
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 uneasiness 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.
BANDULPH'S INTERVIEW WITH CORDWELL FIREBRAS IN THE CLOISTERS or
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, arid, regardless of
the construction that might be put upon it, told his uncle he had
a particular c'ngairemcnt, which he must keep, at six o'clock.
Trussell smiled significantly at the- announcement, but made no
remark, and proposed 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 repaired
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 wav pa>t 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
the house for a few minutes in the hope of discerning some of its
inmates, but was disappointed.
He then entered Peter Pokerich's uhop, 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 desiring the attendance of the
inquisitive barber, declined, though in such a way as to excite
Peter's curiosity, who secretly determined to follow him. As
*G 2
4 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
soon as Randolph was gone, he mentioned his design to the fail
Thomasine, \vho was nothing loath to accompany 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, 6( So you have kept your
appointment with me, Mr. Randulph Crew."
"Are you, then, Mr. Cord well 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, young gentleman," replied Cordweli Fire-
bras, gravely. " Before I advert to iny 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 confide nee in you, sir,"
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 8-5
rejoined Randulph ; " the rather, that you 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
OP THE MORTGAGE MONEY EFFRONTERY OF 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 more 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 stealthy 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 giving the alarm. Before she gained the
86 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
passage, a knock was heard at the street door, and hurrying to it,
she hastily, and with trembling hands, unfastened it, and beheld
the miser. If 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 will 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 rejoined,
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 unless 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."
"What friend?" cried the miser, springing towards her. " I
insist upon knowing."
" She is gone to see Mr. Abel Beechcroft," replied 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 J 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 ! 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 dowa.
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 pocket,
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 must 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 should
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 <,f the little window opposite the chest had
been removed.
88 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 I it would delight me to hang
him ! I would give a thousand pounds to see 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 1 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, almost
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, arid 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
nortgage money is gone the fourteen thousand pounds. D'ye
hear, woman ? I've been robbed, I say robbed !"
" 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 I thought, in your
room."
" You did !" screamed the miser. "And why did you not tell
me this before? I might have caught them might have got
back the spoil."
" If you hadn't frightened me so much about Hilda, I 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 I"
So saying, he hurried towards a small back door in the passage,
the bolts of which were so rusty that he had considerable dif-
ficulty 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 flower-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 story, 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
the 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 West-
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 me to take this step."
" Well, and what does good Abel Bcechcroft 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. I pray
you to believe that I have been guilty of no wilful disobedience
towards 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.
<e 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 false ;
and if I arn 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
t Are you at home, sir?" he asked.
" 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
Diggs and Philip Frewin. The latter was dressed in the same
miserable suit, the same old wig, and the same old shoes with
high 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 my nephew on board the Folly on the
Thames this morning, and very differently 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. Diggs smiled at the miser, and shrugged 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 certainly thought I saw Philip," said Hilda, " but I confess
I was too much confused at the time to observe accurately."
" May I ask how my fair 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
I may now r add," she continued, looking at Philip, " that I have
called upon Mrs. Verral, in Fenchurch- street."
u 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, your
nephew is not more false in outward appearance than in reality.
32 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
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
Diggs. " No one can be better acquainted with your cousin's
affairs than I am ; and so far from being a ruined man, or in the
slightest degree embarrassed, he is at this moment worth half a
million of money."
" Do you 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 asser-
tions, nephew. I am quite satisfied. But what brings you
here ?"
" We come to conclude the marriage settlement, sir," rejoined
Diggs. ts 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 ear, u 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 1" exclaimed Philip, turning very pale, " the fourteen
thousand pounds?"
Mr. Scarve replied in the affirmative.
" God bless me ! 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 how ?
Pray give me all the particulars. I must set the officers to work
immediately."
" No," replied the miser, mournfully " it is gone, and cm-
ploying thief-takers and constables wont bring it back again, but,
on the contrary, will involve further loss of money, as well as of
time and patience. I meant to give it to my daughter on her
marriage. But as I have lost it, she must go without a portion?"
" Without a portion, Mr. Scarve !" exclaimed Diggs. " The
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
your daughter without feeling it."
" Pardon me, Mr. Diggb," returned the miser, " I proposed to
give my daughter a particular sum of money, which I had in con-
templation at the time of making the offer. Of this I have been
retract
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, te sooner than "
" I know what your generosity prompts you to say, Mr,
Frewin," interrupted Diggs; "but I have a duty to you as well
as to my worthy client and friend, Mr. Scarve, and I must say,
that 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,
pitcously.
" Nay, uncle, if you put it on that footing, I myself must
:ract," rejoined Philip. "I am not ignorant of your wealth."
"Nobody doubts it," remarked 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 I" 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 I" 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 thi&
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-
<loor, and fastened it after them.
CHAPTER XVI.
tADY BRABAZON DEPOSITS HER DIAMONDS WITH THE MISER GALLANTRY OF THE
LATTER HE DISCOVERS THE CONTRIVER OF 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 nearly 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, arid, 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 ladyship 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.
66 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 suffering 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 MISER'S DAUGHTER. 95
" They are very brilliant," replied the miser, gazing at them
with the eye of a connoisseur. " But I cannot lend your lady-
ship the money."
"Mr. Scarve," said Lady Brabazon, "I have a debt to pay
to-night, and if I do not discharge it, my character \vili 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 by
putting them on."
" Certainly, Mr. Scarve, if you desire it," replied Lady Bra-
bazon, condescendingly.
" 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, arid 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 ladyship," 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 ladyship'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
rich. You have some misunderstanding with your daughter, you
say which I can readily 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 I \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. <f These
diamonds are certainly very brilliant. Your 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 was 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 I" 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
woman. 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, doggedly. " 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. I'm sorry for you, I tell you that is, I'm sorry
for your loss, though I hope it may soften your obcforate heart
towards your daughter. If you do turn me awav, I hope you'll
give me a recommendation to Mr. Abel Beechcroft. Ah I his is
a place 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 sirline
of beef, a hot potato-pie, a piece of pickled pork, and as much
strong ale as I chose to drink."
" Peace, sirrah 1" cried Scarve. u What satisfai tion can it be
to me to hear how a profuse gentleman wastes his substance 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, for I
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
lie 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
98 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
taker," said Jacob. " He'll make something of it, I'll warrant
you."
" No," replied the miser, who remained gazing upon the paper,
apparently wrapped in thought ; " I shall stir no further 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 sternly on him
" Take care what you say, 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 passed his daughter's chamber, he heard her
talking to her aunt, and put his hand into his pocket to sec 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
quenched his thirst 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. About eight o'clock another knock
was heard at the door, and Jacob came to tell him Mr. Cord well
Firebras was without, having come by appointment to see him.
" Admit him," replied tho miser.
Thus empowered, Jacob departed, and presently afterwards
returned with the individual in question.
" I am punctual, you see, Mr. Scarve," said Firebras, with a
smile, as he entered the room.
" You are, sir," replied the miser, gravely. And while his
visitor threw himself into a chair, he got up to ascertain that
Jacob descended into the cellar.
" And now, Mr. Scarve," said Firebras, ef let us proceed at
0nce to business. I conclude you have got the five thousand
pounds 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 my 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
Randnlpli refusing to drin^k tl,
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 99
cent, for your money and you profess to wish it well. I must
have a thousand pounds to-night."
" That, I may possibly manage," rejoined Scarve ; " but I
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 ine," 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. " I 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 handwriting is rather like mine, undoubtedly," said
Firebras, witli the most perfect composure. 4< But do you mean
to say this paper was 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 testimony to mine ?"
u Oh, by no means P replied Firebras. " Well, Mr. Scarve,
as I may 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 with the writing on the other
side of the paper. And this was all that passed on the subject.
CHAPTER XVII.
MB. CRIPPS'S ALARMING INTELLIGENCE RANDULPH'S INTRODUCTION TO THE JACOBITE
CLUB SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURT AND FATHER VERSELYN THE TREASONABLE
TOAST DANGEROUS POSITION OF RANDULPH HIS FIRMNESS PUNCTILIOUSNESS
OF SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURY.
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. Crackenthorpe 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 I" cried Fire-
"what's the matter, I say?"
"Danger a dungeon death on the scaffold 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. Randulph 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, Thomasine Deacle,
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?"
" Hum I" exclaimed Mr. Cripps, throwing himself into a
musing posture; "that requires consideration. I think I might
manage him. But I must be paid for the service, Mr. Firebras
well paid, sir."
" Unquestionably," returned the other. fe Your reward shall
always be in proportion to your utility."
u 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 I 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. The Welsh baronet hurried for-
ward, holding out both his hands towards Firebras; but he started,
and looked exceedingly surprised on beholding Kandulph.
" I need not present my young friend, Mr. Randulph Crew,
to you, 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 announced by
the host as Sir Norfolk Salusbury. Never 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 features.
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 gray
and cat-like, and surmounted by black bushy brows. But it was
not so much his dress, his features, or his figure, that attracted
attention, 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. " Eum
cognoscere gaudeo. Sir Bulkeley Price, I salute you. It did
riot 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 repent, 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 asober-
coloured suit, a full-bottomed black wig, which he wore without
powder, and spectacles. Mr. 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, boning
to the company, said, " I believe, gentlemen, you are all as-
sembled; the room up stairs is ready, if you are disposed to
adjourn to it."
The proposition being assented to, the landlord threw open
the door, and a slight contest occurred between the two baronet!
as to which, should offer the other precedence.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 103
" I pra?, Sir Bulkeley," said Sir Norfolk ; " I will scale the
staircase after yon."
Thus exhorted, Sir Bulkeley, 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 table covered with bottles and glasses.
Having hung up their hats against the wall, the company 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 immediately
said aloud, " Oh, yes, admit him by all means. Gentlemen, a
new brother I"
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."
"Mehercle!" exclaimed Sir Norfolk. "Such prodigality
almost exceedeth belief."
" Landlord, it is time I" 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
threat care and solemnity in the centre of the table.
" Why, it is water," exclaimed Randolph, gazing at the clear
lymph, with which, on nearer inspection, he perceived the bowl
was filled.
" To be sure !" cried Firebras ; " and we are about to drink the
king's health over the water And now, gentlemen," he con-
tinued, filling Randolph'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.
10* THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
u And I," cried Sir Bulkeley, likewise rising.
"And I," added the landlord, who stood nsxt to the last-
named baronet, and was allowed 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 imitated
by all the others 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 must drink the toast it's the rule of the club," added
Sir Bulkeley.
"It is a rule I cannot subscribe to," replied Randulpl).
"How! am I mistaken in you, young man?" said Firebras,
regarding him menacingly.
" Do as they bid you, or you'll have your 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."
Randulph's bold declaration had well nigh cost him dear.
Cries of " spy I" " traitor I" " Hanoverian I" *' down with him P r
resounded on all sides; the landlord rushed to the door, and
placed his back against it, to prevent any attempt at egress in
that way ; while Sir Norfolk Salusbury, 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 Bulkeley Price, who, in hurrying round the
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 m
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. The
young 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 commencing the attack.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 105
" Singulatifn ! one at a time, Mr. Travers," he cried. " Ne
Hercules contra duos. It shall never he said that any man,
however unworthy of fair treatment, fought against odds in the
presence of a descendant of Adam de Salzburg. Stand aside,,
therefore, sir, and you, Father Verselyn, and leave him to-
me, or I must relinquish the right of combat, which I have in.
some measure acquired, as being the first to claim it, to you."
"Let the young man swear to keep silence touching all he.
has seen and heard, or he shall not quit this room alive," rejoincdi
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 I" cried Sir Norfolk, sternly. " That would be-
trucidation dedecorous and ignavc ; neither can I stand by and
see it done."
" Nor I," cried Sir Bulkeley, who had by this time recovered)
from the embarrassment occasioned by the accident. " I disap-
prove of Father Verselyn's counsel entirely. Let us hear what
the young man has to say. I will question him."
" ILtudquaquam, Sir Bulkeley," replied the other, gravely..
"I gave you precedence 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 him-
if you think proper, or can," rejoined Sir Bulkeley, angrily;.
"but you shall not prevent my speaking to him."
" Sir Bulkeley Price," returned Sir Norfolk, raising his crane
neck to its utmost height, " I pray you not to interfere between,
me and Mr. Crew, otherwise
" Well, Sir Norfolk, and what then?" cried the 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 have-
plenty of other quarrels to settle without disputing among our-
selves. I brought Mr. Randulph Crew here, and will be respon-
sible for his silence."
"What saith the young man?" demanded Sir Norfolk. "If
he will oppignerate his word for taciturnity, I will take it."
" So will I," added Sir Bulkeley.
"I thank you for your good opinion of me, gentlemen," re-
turned Randulph. "I have been, almost unwittingly, a party
to your counsels, and ought perhaps to have declared my send-
106 THE MISERS DAUGHTER.
nicnts sooner; but I hoped the meeting would pass off without
rendering any such avowal necessary, in which case, though I
certainly should never have joined your club again, the secret of
its existence would have rested in my own bosom, as it will
now if I am suffered to depart. I could not avoid expressing
my disapproval of a toast, which in common with every loyal
subject of King George the Second, I hold to be treasonable."
" You cannot be the subject of a usurper, young man," said
Firebras. "Your allegiance to King James the Third is un-
alicnable."
" Compel him to avow allegiance to his rightful sovereign,
Mr. Firebras," interposed Father Verselyn.
' I will sooner lay down my life than comply," cried Randulph,
resolutely.
Firebras looked slightly disconcerted ; and Sir Norfolk, who
had lowered the point of his sword, again raised it.
" It is in vain to reason with him, my son," whispered Verselyn.
" Our safety demands his destruction. If he goes hence we are
denounced; and an irreparable injury will be done to the good
cause."
" I have promised him safe-conduct, father," rejoined Firebras;
"and, at all risks, I will keep my word. Mr. Randulph Crew,
you are at liberty to depart, You give up all hopes of the miser's
daughter?" he added, in a deep whisper.
" I must if she is only to be purchased in this way," replied
Randolph, in the same tone.
"Take time to consider of it," rejoined Firebras. " I will
find means of communicating with you to-morrow. Landlord,
.attend Mr. Crew to the door."
" You are wrong in letting him go," cried Verselyn. " You
will repent this blind confidence. Sir Norfolk, I entreat you to
interfere Sir Bulkeley, I appeal to you."
But they both turned from him and sheathed their swords ;
while the landlord, having received a sign from Firebras, obeyed
his instructions.
As soon as Randulph was gone, Firebras addressed himself to
the two baronets: "I hope no unkindly feeling none, at least,
that cannot easily be set to rights subsists between you, gentle-
men ?" he said.
"I shall never quarrel with my good friend, Sir Norfolk,
except about a matter of punctilio," replied Sir Bulkeley, who
was as easily appeased as roused to anger.
(( And I ought never to quarrel with one who knows how to
make so handsome a concession as Sir Bulkeley Price," replied
Sir Norfolk, with a gracious bow.
" Then the fetorm has blown over," laughed Firebras. " I
feared this more than the other."
A long discussion then took place among the members of the
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 107
club, as to Randulph's introduction to it, and Firebras was
severely censured by Father Verselyn, for admitting the young
man without testing his political principles.
" I do not repent what I have done, father," returned Firebras,
"because I am satisfied no harm will corne of it; and it was an
attempt to gain a very useful ally to our cause. He is a brave
lad, as his firmness during this affair proved, and it would be a
great point to win him over. Nor do I yet despair of doing so "
"I hope we have seen the lar t of him," muttered Father^Ver-
selyn ; " and I beg it may be borne m mind that it was against
my advice that he was suffered to depart."
Cordwell Firebras darted an angry look at the priest, but he
made no reply; and the cloth having been replaced by the
landlord and Mr. Cripps, the former proceeded to fetch a fresh
supply of flasks and glasses; after which, the company once
more gathered round the table, and began to discuss anew their
projects.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE JACOBITE CLUB SURPRISED BY THE GUARD THE FLIGHT AND PURSUIT
MR. CRIPPS'S TREACHERY HIS REFLECTIONS.
MIDNIGHT arrived, and found the party still in deep debate.
Suddenly, a quick and continuous knocking was heard at the
door.
All instantly started to their feet, gazing at each other in alarm.
" We are betrayed," said Firebras, in a deep whisper.
"We are," replied Father Verselyn; "and by the spy you,
introduced among us."
"It is false 1" cried Firebras, angrily. "But this is no time
for dispute. We must provide for our safety. Who is it, land-
lord ?" he cried to the host, who, on the first alarm, had rushed
to the door, and opened the reconnoitring-hole within it.
"O lud! we're all lost!" rejoined the landlord, closing the
trap-door, and returning to them with scared looks and on tiptoe,
as if afraid of the sound of his own footsteps.
" Who is it? what is it?" demanded Firebras.
"A dozen grenadier guards, headed by their captain and
lieutenant, come to search the house," replied the landlord.
44 They're mounting the stairs now."
" Zounds!" exclaimed Sir Bulkeley, "this is awkward!"
"There is nothing to fear," said Firebras, calmly. " We have
plenty of time for flight."
" Yes, you can fly, gentlemen, but I am ruined," exclaimed
the landlord. " I can never return to my own dwelling !"
" Pshaw! you shall never be the worse for it," replied Firebras.
108 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" But what will become of me, if I am taken ?" cried Mr.
Cripps, feigning a look of despair. " I am sure to be the worse
for it."
" Silence I" cried Firebras, authoritatively " Don't you hear
them? they arc at the door. Be quick, gentlemen. Not a
moment is to be lost."
While this was passing, Father Verselyn hurried to the lower
end of the room, and mounting a ladder placed against the wall,
passed through a trap-door in the ceiling above it. The land-
lord, Mr. Cripps, and Mr. Travers, next ascended ; then Sir
Bulkeley followed; then Sir Norfolk, whose equanimity not even
the present danger could disturb ; while Firebras brought up the
rear.
" 'Sdeath, Sir Norfolk," cried the latter, as the baronet slowly
scaled the steps before him " move on a little more quickly, or
we shall certainly be captured. They're breaking open the door*
Don't you hear them ?"
" Perfecte," replied Sir Norfolk, coolly. But he did not on
that account accelerate his movements.
Knowing it was in vain to remonstrate, Conhvcll Firebras
waited till Sir Norfolk had worked his long frame through the
trap-door, which he did with the utmost deliberation, and then
ran up the steps himself, with much more activity than might
have been expected from a person so weighty. Just as he was
quitting the ladder, the door was burst open with a tremendous
crash, and two officers of the guard rushed into the room, sword
in hand, followed by a dozen grenadiers armed with muskets, on-
w 7 hich bayonets were fixed.
Firebras's first object, on securing a footing on the floor of the
garret above, was to try to draw up the ladder, and he was
assisted in the endeavour by Sir Norfolk ; but their design was
frustrated by the foremost officer and a tall grenadier bearing a
halbert, both of whom sprang upon the ladder, and kept it down
by their joint weight, and all that those above could do was to-
shut down the trap-door before it could be reached by their foes.
A dormer window opened from the garret upon the roof of the
house ; but an unexpected difficult}' had been experienced by the
first detachment of fugitives in unfastening it. All ought to have
been in readiness for an emergency like the present, and Sir
Bulkeley and Mr. Travers bitterly reproached the landlord for
his negligence. The poor fellow declared that the mischance
was not his fault that he had taken every possible precaution-
ami, in fact, had examined the window that very morning, and
found it all right.
At length, it was forced back; and all but Sir Norfolk and
Firebras got through it. They were detained by the necessity
that existed of guarding the trap-door. Unfortunately, there was
no bolt on the upper sitlo of it so that they had to stand upon
THE MISERS DAUGHTER. 109
it to keep it down, and this plan being discovered by the officer
below, he ordered two of his men to thrust their bayonets through
the boards, while the tall grenadier tried to prize open the d(>or
with his halbert. The manoeuvre compelled Firebras and Salus-
bury slightly to alter their position, to avoid being wounded by
the bayonets, and in doing so, they necessarily gave admittance
to the point of the halbert. The efforts of the^ assailing party
were redoubled, and the trap slightly yielded.
" Lose not a moment I fly, Sir Norfolk!" cried Firebras, ap-
prehensive lest the baronet's deliberation, which he well knew
nothing could shake, should prevent his escape.
But true to his principles, Sir Norfolk would not move an inch.
" I cannot leave you in angusto," he said.
" But I am the stronger of the two, as well as the more active,"
rejoined Firebras. " My weight will suffice to keep down the
trap-door till you have got through the window, and then I can
make good my retreat. Fly I fly !"
But Sir Norfolk continued immovable.
" I shall be the last to quit this place," he said, in a tone of
unalterable determination. " But do not, I pray you, tarry with
me. The trifurciferous myrmidons of the Hanoverian usurper
shall never take me with life."
" I must leave the punctilious old fool to his fate," muttered
Firebras, observing that the greater part of the head of the
halbert was forced through the side of the trap. " God protect
you, Sir Norfolk," he cried, rushing to the window.
The brave old Welsh baronet essayed to hew off the head of
the halbert from the staff but in vain; and finding that the
enemy must gain admittance in another moment, and that Fire-
bras had cleared the window, he turned away and strode majes-
tically towards it. His retreat was so suddenly made, that the
grenadier who held the pike, and was prizing with all his force,
lost his balance, and tumbled off the ladder, causing such con-
fusion among his comrades, that Sir Norfolk had time to get
through the window unmolested.
It was a beautifully bright night the moon being at the full,
and the sky filled with fleecy clouds. On the left, lay ridges of
pointed-roofed houses, covered with the warm-looking and
mellow-tinted tile, so preferable to the cold blue slate broken
with stacks of chimneys of every size and form dormer windows,
gables, over-hanging stories, and other picturesque and fantastic
projections; and the view being terminated, at some quarter of a
mile's distance, by the tall towers and part of the roof of West-
tiinster Abbey.
Viewed thus, the whole picture looked exquisitely tranquil and
oeautiful. The fires in the houses were almost all extinguished,
and little or no smoke issued from the chimneys to pollute the
clear atmosphere. Above the venerable and majestic fane hung
110 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
the queen of night, flooding its towers seen at such an hour t>
the greatest advantage with silvery light, and throwing some of
the nearer buildings and projections into deep shadow, and so
adding to the beauty of the scene. On the right, the view
, extended over other house-tops to the gardens and fields of
Pimlico. Behind, was Saint James's Park, with its stately
avenues of trees, its long canal, and Rosamond's Pond glim-
mering in the moonlight; while in front lay the New Artillery-
ground, and the open and marshy grounds constituting Tothill
Fields. But it will be readily imagined that neither Firebraa
nor his companion looked to the right or to the left. They were
only conscious of the danger by which they were menaced, and
were further discouraged by Father Verselyn, who at that
moment scrambled over the roof they were about to cross, to
inform them that the door by which they hoped to escape, could
not be got open.
"Everything seems to have gone wrong!" cried Verselyn, in
an ecstasy of terror. " What will become of us?"
" Jacta est alea," replied Sir Norfolk, composedly. " We must
fight for it, father."
" Heaven and all its saints protect us," cried the priest, crossing
himself.
" Be composed, father," rejoined Firebras, sternly. " You
ought to be equal to any circumstances in which you ma} 7 be
placed. Ha !"
The latter exclamation was occasioned by a joyous shout,
announcing that their friends had succeeded in opening the door;
and the next moment the good news was confirmed by Sir
Bulkeley Price, who clambered over the roof to acquaint them
with it. On hearing this, the party instantly beat a retreat ; and
their flight was accelerated by the officer and the tall grenadier,
who, at that moment, sprung out of the window. Even Sir
Norfolk was urged to a little more expedition than usual ; and
two or three of his mighty strides brought him to the top of the
roof. Cordwell Firebras would not have been much behind him,
if Father Verselyn had not caught hold of his coat-tails to help
himself up the ascent, which he felt wholly unable to accomplish
without assistance.
By this time, the officer was well nigh upon them ; and, finding
his summons to surrender wholly disregarded, he made a pass
at the priest, which took effect in the fleshy part of his leg,
restoring him at once to more than his former agility. Uttering
a loud yell, and clapping his hand to the wounded limb to staunch
the blood, Father Verselyn bounded over the roof, and made to
the door, through which the landlord and Mr. Travers had
already disappeared, and through which Mr. Cripps was now
darting.
Between the two roofs lay a small flat space, used by its forrcer
THE MiSER'S DAUGHTER. 1H
proprietor as a place for drying clothes, as was evident from
the four tall posts at the corners. Here, Firebras and Sir Nor-
folk came to a stand, resolved to dispute the passage with their
pursuers. Sword in hand, and calling to them to surrender, the
foremost officer dashed down the roof; but his precipitation placed
him at the mercy of Firebras; for his foot slipping, the latter
struck his sword from his grasp. Sir Norfolk, in the interim,
had encountered another foernan with equal success. This was
the tall grenadier, who, as he descended, made a thrust at the
baronet with his halbert, which the latter very adroitly parried,
and, lounging in return, disabled his adversary by a wound in the
arm. At the same moment, too, the tiles gave way under the
weight of the grenadier, and he sank above the knees in the
roof
Other foes were now at hand. The second officer, carrying a
lantern in one hand, and a drawn sword in the other, appeared
on the roof; while the tall caps and bayonets of the rest of the
grenadiers were seen above it. Though Sir Norfolk, whose blood
was up, would have willingly awaited the advance of these new
opponents, he yielded to the entreaties of Firebras, and followed
him through the door, which was instantly secured behind them
bv n couple of strong bolts.
* The house in which the Jacobites had taken refuge was
expressly hired by them for an occasion like the present,
and kept wholly uninhabited. The mode of communication
between it and the Rose and Crown will, it is hoped, be
sufficiently understood from the foregoing description. That
so many unforeseen accidents should have occurred at a time
when, if ever, things ought to have been in readiness, almost
drove the poor landlord distracted ; but if he could have watched
Mr. Cripps's manoeuvres, he would have speedily found out the
cause of the delays. In the first instance, a penknife, dexterously
slipped by the valet into the groove of the window, prevented it
from moving, and had well-nigh, as has been seen, occasioned
the capture of the fugitives. This difficulty having been over-
come by the strenuous efforts of Sir Bulkeley and Mr. Travers,
Mr. Cripps was the first to scramble through the window.
" Which way ?" he cried to the landlord, who was following.
" Over the roof, and to the door opposite," was the reply.
Nimbly as a cat, the agile valet bounded over the roof, and
instantly perceiving the door, made towards it. A key was in
the lock ; he turned it, took it out, and dropped it into the street
below. He then began to shake the door violently, and shouted
to the landlord, who at that moment came in sight.
" Unlock it unlock it !" cried the host.
I can't," cried Mr. Cripps; "there is no key. Ton rep!
we shall be all taken."
" No key I ' exclaimed the landlord. u Impossible ! I saw it
112 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
there this morning myself. It must have dropped down. Look
about for it."
Mr. Cripps feigned compliance, and the landlord coming up,
poured forth a torrent of imprecations on finding his statement
correct. Father Verselyn, as has been related, crept back to Fire-
bras, while the others used their efforts to open the door. Nor
were they long in effecting their purpose. Finding all other
attempts fail, the landlord stepped back on the leads, and running
to give additional impetus to th? blow, dashed his foot against
the door, and the lock yielded with a loud crash.
Balked in his schemes, the plotting valet would fain have
ipractised some new trick upon them ; but the presence of Cord-
*well Firebras, whose suspicions he was fearful of arousing, re-
strained him. Indeed, he had little opportunity for further
-display of his art. Ordering the others to go down stairs, Fire-
'bras only tarried to lock an inner door, and then followed them.
The house, as already stated, was perfectly empty, and opened
at the back into a court, which branched off into several of those
intricate alleys with which petty France abounds. Two minutes
had not elapsed before the fugitives found shelter in this court,
-and were rapidly threading it, and though they were noticed by
some of the neighbours, who had been alarmed bv the shouts ot
the soldiery, and took them for a gang of housebreakers, they
effected their retreat without further molestation. The officer
and his followers succeeded in breaking into the garret; but
before they could burst open the inner door, the party had quitted
the house.
Guided by the landlord, the priest and Mr. Travers scudded
through a labyrinth of passages leading in the direction of the
New Chapel, which building they skirted on the left, and crossing
Stretton's Ground, found a secure asylum at a small public-house
in Duck-lane, where the landlord was known, and where the
unfortunate priest, who had become very faint from the loss of
blood, was enabled to get his wound dressed.
Sir Bulkeley Price, Sir Norfolk, and Firebras, took the oppo-
site direction ; and after traversing several narrow passages,
reached James-street, where, finding they were not pursued, they
slackened their pace, and entering the park at the gate near the
lower end of Rosamond's Pond, proceeded to Fircbras's lodgings.
A slight tap against the window speedily procured them admit-
tance. The shutters were then closed, and Firebras threw
himself into a chair, and for some minutes maintained a profound
silence, which neither of his companions seemed disposed to
break.
se Well, gentlemen," he said, at length, " our meetings at the
Rose and Crown are over. We must find some other place of
.rendezvous. This is a most unlucky chance."
x There never was a plot nor conjuration but experienced
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
gome contrarious accident, Mr. Firebras," replied Sir Norfolk,
calmly. I am in nowise astonied at it."
" In my opinion, treachery has been practised upon us," re-
marked Sir Bulkeley ; " and I suepect the landlord is the author
of it."
" My suspicions attach to Mr. Villiers's gaudily ornate serving-
man," remarked Sir Norfolk. " I own I misdoubted him ab
incepto."
Firebras said nothing ; but rose, and opening a cupboard, tool?
out a bottle of rosa solis and glasses, and set them before his
guests. Sir Btilkeley quickly tossed off a couple of glasses; but
Sir Norfolk, who was a pattern of sobriety, as he was a model of
punctilio, declined to drink. They then fell into debate, and it
was broad daylight before they separated, Sir Bulkeley taking
his way across the park to his residence in St. James's-square,
and Sir Norfolk proceeding to his lodgings in Abingdon-street.
It now only remains to inquire after Mr. Cripps. He followed
the landlord and his party for a short distance, and then coming
to a halt, held a brief communion with himself.
"I have failed this time," he thought; "but it is all owing ta
the bad management of that brainless little barber. However, I'll
take care he has the full blame of it with the Jacobites; and the
next time I attempt their capture, I'll make sure work of it. It
will be no use lodging information against any of them, for no-
proof can now be obtained of their presence at the meeting.
No, no ; I must keep upon terms with them, and abide my time.
They must all be taken in the fact; and then my reward will be
proportionate. I wonder whether Pokerich is in safety. I saw
the little rascal among the guard on the house-top, and he looked
almost as much frightened as Father Verselyn. By-the-by,.
something may be made of that priest. He's a double dealer, I'll
be sworn. Ton rep ! I like these nocturnal adventures vastly.
They remind me of the romances I have read, and make me
fancy myself a hero. A hero ! Egad, the heroes of romance
don't generally betray their friends. But that only shows the
authors of such works don't draw from real life. But I must go
home and get a little rest, or I sha'n't be in trim for Marylebone
Gardens and my dear Mrs. Nettleship to-morrow."
CHAPTER XIX.
1IR. JUKES'S NOTIONS OP DOMESTIC HAPPINESS TRUSSELL A LITTLE THE WORSE 1
FOR WINK RANDOLPH RECEIVES A NOTE FROM FIREBRAS JACOB POST BRINGS
INFORMATION TO ABEL.
SHORTLY after Hilda's departure, Abel Beechcroft summoned
his butler, and informed him he was going out. " I shall be
back in time for dinner," he said. " If Miss Scarve should call
I
114 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
again during my absence, which is not impossible, though I think
it unlikely, show her into the library, and take care that Randolph
does not see her."
" I was in hopes, sir, that your interview with that dear young
lady might have altered your views in regard to your nephew,"
replied Mr. Jukes. " I've been pleasing myself ever since she
went away with the idea of the nice wife she'd make Mr. Ran-
dulph. They seem cut out for each other just of an age and
it's difficult to say which is the handsomest. Bless my heart! if
the marriage should take place, what a feast we should have, and
how busy I should be I And then, of course, you'd have the
young folks to live with you; and you'd get so fond of your new
niece, that you wouldn't bear her out of sight for an instant, but
would be happier than you've been before. And then, in due
time, you'd have to turn one of the upper rooms into a nursery,
and I should see you sitting in your easy chair, not with a book
before you, blinding your eyes, but with young Master Crew on
a rocking-horse on one side, and young Miss Crew on t'other,
while the nurse would be bringing you a third crowing little
bantling in long petticoats, encouraging the growth of its teeth,
and cultivating; a taste for music at the same time with a silver
rattle."
" Heaven forbid !" ejaculated Abel, who had allowed the butler
to ramble on in his own way. " Your notions and mine of
domestic happiness differ materially. I've always treated you
with great confidence, Jukes," he added gravely; "and I confess
I should be glad to see Randulph well and happily married.
But I'm in no hurry about it. It is desirable tha the should sec
something of the world something more of female society, in
order that he may understand his own tastes better before he
takes a step on which the whole happiness, or misery, of his
future life will hang. It's a sad thing for a man to discover, when
too late, that he hasn't chosen well."
" It must be rather disagreeable, no doubt," rejoined Mr.
Jukes ; " but I don't consider an old bachelor like you a com-
petent judge in the matter. However, if Mr. Randulph chooses
Miss Hilda, he'll choose well that I'm prepared to maintain."
" Jukes," said Abel, sternly, " it is time to check your loquacity.
Much as I am pleased with Hilda Scarve and I assure you she
has won upon my affections in an extraordinary manner I do
not desire, for reasons which it is needless to explain, that she
should become the bride of my nephew."
" Those reasons of yours lie so deep, sir, that I can't fathom
them," replied Mr. Jukes; "unless but I should have thought
you too old."
** Too old for what, Jukes?" said Abel.
<( At all events, I should have thought her too young," pursued
the butler. " But stranger things have happened."
Tlie Jacobite Clu"b pursued "by the guard .
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 115
" What the deuce do you mean to insinuate, sirrah?" cried
Abel.
" Why, I fancy you want to marry Miss Hilda yourself, sir,"
replied the butler. " And I'm sure I've no objection none on
earth if you can get the lady's consent. Only I think there's
a little too much disparity, that's all."
Abel flushed to his very temples, and then became pale as
death. He made no reply, however, but walked quickly towards
the window, returning the next moment with his wonted com-
posure.
" I scarcely know whether to laugh at you, or reprove you
for your strange supposition, Jukes," he said. "In any other
case than this, I certainly should have been angry; but here,"
he continued, in a slightly tremulous tone, " my feelings are too
deeply interested. No, Jukes, I shall never marry least of all,
the daughter of " here his utterance failed him.
"I understand, sir," resumed Jukes, hastily. "Don't say
another word. I see my mistake."
"Then repair it," rejoined Abel, recovering himself. "Mind,
I will have no excuse for neglecting my instructions."
With this, he proceeded to the hall, and taking up his hat and
stick, reiterated his injunctions to the butler, and went forth.
Mr. Jukes returned to his pantry, ruminating on what had
occurred, and muttering to himself, "I almost wish our quiet
house hadn't been disturbed by these young folks. I perceive
plainly that Randolph will fall over head and ears in love with
Hilda if he hasn't done so already and then my master 'il
quarrel with him, and then but no, he's sure to pardon him,
just as I always overlook the limits of my graceless nephew,
Crackenthorpe. However, it wont do for me to bring 'em to-
gether; and I hope the young lady mayn't come back."
His apprehensions were groundless. At the very time he was
thinking of her, Hilda was passing the Folly on the Thames.
At a little before four o'clock, Abel Beechcroft returned, and
seemed much relieved to find that nothing had occurred during
his absence. He sat down to dinner by himself at the appointed
time, discussed the meal in silence, and even when the wine was
placed before him, evinced so little disposition to talk, that Mr,
Jukes took the hint, and left him alone. He continued in the
same mood during the whole evening; reading as long as the
light permitted, and then repairing to the garden, where he
remained till summoned to supper. In reply to his inquiries
whether his brother and nephew had come back, he was told
that the former had returned about an hour ago, alone.
" Alone !" echoed Abel, shrugging his shoulders, and glancing
triumphantly at Mr. Jukes. "I told you how it would be.
Randulph's career of dissipation has begun with a vengeance.
I 2
116 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Where will it end, eh? where will it end, Jukes? Tell me
that"
" I wish I could," responded the latter, with something like a
groan.
Abe! found his brother in the supper-room, and at once per-
ceived, from his uncertain movements and flushed looks, that he
had taken too much wine.
" So you have not brought your charge home with you," he
observed, drily. " Where is he ?"
" Ton my soul, that's more than I can tell I" laughed Trussell.
" He dined with Sir Singleton Spinke and myself at a French
ordinary in Suffolk Street, and left us to keep an appointment
he I he I soon after five o'clock. I expected to find him here
on my return ; but I suppose he has been detained. You must
make allowances for young men, sir. It is his first indiscretion
ha I ha!"
"I hope it will be his last," replied Abel, seating himself.
And as the supper proceeded, he elicited from Trussell, whose
condition rendered him exceedingly communicative, a full account
of all that occurred during the morning, including even the
glimpse they had obtained of Hilda, at the time of her passing
the Folly.
' And did she see Randulph?" asked Abel, quickly.
'To be sure," replied Trussell, laughing; "she couldn't help
it. The boat was close to us. And, egad ! I must say, if I am
any judge of such matters which I flatter myself I am she
looked desperately annoyed at seeing him with the pretty actress
he I he I Your health, brother I" he added, raising a bumper
of claret, poured out by the butler, to his lips.
"I'm not sorry for the rencounter," muttered Abel. "A
glass of white wine, Jukes. Brother, I drink to you. And
how did Randulph behave on the occasion ?"
"It embarrassed him devilishly," rejoined Trussell; "and, in
fact, he didn't recover himself during the whole day."
" Indeed !" exclaimed Abel, thoughtfully. " And is he gone
to visit the pretty actress, Kitty Conway, to-night eh ?"
"I'faith, I can't say," replied Trussell, laughing. " I left him
to his own devices. But we shall have him back presently, and
then you can catechise him yourself ha I ha !"
Trussell continued talking, laughing, and quaffing, during the
whole of supper. He was in far too jovial a mood to notice or
heed, if he did notice them the grave looks of his brother, at
his boasts of the introductions he should give his nephew the
sights he should show him and the perfect gentleman he would
make him. Abel's brow grew dark as the clock struck eleven,
and Randulph had not returned. He made no remark, however,
but rising, called for a light, and, wishing his brother good night,
he retired to rest.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. H7
"I'm afraid Mr. Randulph has displeased bis uncle, Mr.
.Tnissel I," said Mr. Jukes. " I wish he had come home before
the old gentleman went to bed."
"I wish he had, Mr. Jukes," replied Trussell, laughing; "but
it can't be helped. Boys will be boys. I needn't tell you I was
just such another at his age."
" You were a great deal worse than he'll ever be^ I hope,"
replied the butler, shaking his head.
"Ha! ha! I fear so, Jukes," replied Trussell, smiling, as if a
high compliment had been paid him. "1 was a sad fellow a
sad fellow I I've been talking over old times and old adventures
with Sir Singleton Spinke ; and I fear we were terrible rakes
he ! he I The young men of the present day have sadly degene-
rated. They haven't half the spirit of the beaux of good Queen
Ann's days, when I was young that is, when I was a boy, for
I'm young still. The bottle's empty, Jukes. But perhaps you
think I've had wine enough. And, i'faith, I almost think so
myselfc So I'll e'en seek my pillow.
" The man that is drunk is void of all care,
He needs neither Parthian quiver nor spear ;
The Moor's poison'd dart he scorneth to wield,
The bottle alone is his weapon and shield.
Tol de rol.
" This world is a tavern with liquor well stored,
And into't I came to be drunk as a lord ;
My life is the reck'ning, which freely I'll pay,
And when I'm dead drunk, then I'll stagger away !
Tol de rol.
Sit up for Randulph, Jukes. I'll lecture him in the morning.
Carry the candle, old fellow, and lend me your arm, for I don't
feel quite so steady as usual.
" If I live to be old, for I find I go dowu,
Let this be my fate in a country town ;
May I have a warm house, with a stone at the gate,
And a cleanly young damsel to rub my bald pate.
l)c,rnj down !"
And singing and laughing in a maudlin manner, he was con-
veyed up stairs to bed.
Abel's first inquiry, when Mr. Jukes entered his room on the
following morning at seven o'clock, was as to the time at which
his nephew returned overnight, and he received for answer,
" Oh ! somewhere about half-past eleven, or twelve, sir, I didn't
exactly observe."
" You took care not to do so," rejoined Abel. " But what
account did he give of himself."
"I really didn't question him, sir," returned Mr. Jukes" He
went to bed almost immediately, But if he retired late, he's up
early enough ; for he's in the garden already."
"The deuce he is!" cried Abel, getting up. "Well, come.
118 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
something in his favour, at all events. My dressing-gown,
Jukes."
"If I might offer an opinion, sir,'* said the butler, as lie assisted
his master to put on his morning-robe, I should say Mr. Randulph
hasn't been at a gay party. He looks very thoughtful, and as if
he had something in his mind. I hope he isn't going to fight a
duel."
" I hope not 1" cried Abel, hastily. " That may account for his
getting up so early. I must see him, and prevent it. Don't let
him go out, on any account, till I come down."
Having dressed himself as expeditiously as he could, he pro-
ceeded to the garden, where he found his nephew looking quite as
pensive as he had been described by the butler.
" You were late home, last night, Randulph ?" he said, after
the usual greeting had passed between them.
" I was, indeed, much later than I intended, uncle," replied
the young man ; " but I was unavoidably detained."
" May I ask in what way ?" rejoined Abel.
" Pardon me, uncle, if I do not answer the question," replied
Randulph.
"I will not press you," rejoined Abel, severely. " But upon
one point I require a direct answer. You have not, I trust, an
affair of honour, so called but most mistakenly on hand ?"
" I have not !" replied Randulph, emphatically.
" I believe you," rejoined Abel. " And so I am told yon saw
Hilda Scarve yesterday, and under circumstances not very agree-
able to yourself ?"
The young man blushed deeply.
" I am not sorry to find you have some shame left," said his
uncle ; " and trust the occurrence may prove a wholesome lesson
to you. And now, while 1 am lecturing you, let me add that there
are other dangers to which you may be exposed, besides those
arising from pretty actresses and dissipation. I mean political
dangers dangers springing from the secret societies and their
agents. Your father, I am aware, inclined to the Jacobite cause;
and I am aware, also, that your mother had, and still has, the
same bias. But she gave me to understand you were a stanch
Hanoverian. Has she misrepresented you ?"
"Most assuredly not !" replied Randulph. "But I have troubled
myself so 'little about the matter, that it is only lately that I have
discovered her opinions were adverse to my own. I am obliged
to you for the caution you have given me. Do you chance to
know a gentleman named Cordwell Firebras ?"
" The name seems familiar to me," replied Abel, musing. " Ah t
now I recollect it. It belonged to a person who was concerned in
the Rebellion of '15, and had well-nigh involved your father in it
But what of him ?" he continued, regarding Randulph fixedly.
** Do you know him? Have \ou met him since you came U
town ?'"
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 119
"I must again dec) : ne answering the question, uncle," replied
Randolph.
" Your declining to do so is an answer in this case," rejoined
Abel ; k< and I must warn you against him as a most dangerous
person. Thirty years have elapsed since this Firebras placed your
poor father in fearful jeopardy. But if he is the person I have
heard described, they will not have changed him."
" Set your mind at rest as to his influence over me," replied
Randulph. " I shall never waver in my loyalty."
" I am glad to hear it, nephew," returned Abel ; " for rely
upon it, if, unhappily, another rebellion should break out, it
will end as disastrously as the first. And now let us go to
breakfast."
Arid leading the way to the house, they sat down to the well-
spread board. Trussell did not make his appearance, and the meal
passed off satisfactorily enough, until, towards its close, Mr. Jukes
brought a note, which he delivered to Randulph.
" By your leave, uncle," said Randulph, glancing in some con-
fusion at the superscription, and recognising the hand.
He then broke the seal, and read as follows :
" I am going to Mr. Scarve ; and if I have an assurance of
regret from you for your hasty conduct last night, and an under-
taking that you will join us, I will engage to procure you the
hand of his daughter. Your determination must be speedily
made ; for to-day he is about to sign a marriage contract with
his nephew, Philip Frevvin. The bearer will bring you to me,
if you desire to see me. " C. F."
" You seem agitated, nephew," observed Abel. t( Are the
contents of that note secret ?"
" Indeed, sir, they are," replied Randulph. " And, what is
more, I must answer them in person."
"Oh, by all means do so," replied Abel, testily. " But re-
member my caution."
Randulph then hurried out of the room, and found, in the
liall, the landlord of the Rose and Crown, who had brought him
the note.
" Are you going with me, sir?" asked the landlord.
Randulph replied in the affirmative; and they quitted the house
together.
" Abel was a good deal surprised and annoyed at his nephew's
departure, and repaired to his library, where he endeavoured to
compose his thoughts with a book. But the remedy in this
instance proved futile ; for when Mr. Jukes entered the room
about an hour afterwards, he found him pacing to and fro within
it, with a disturbed air.
" Well, is Randulph returned ?" he asked, quickly.
" No, sir," replied the butler. "lam come to say that Mr.
120 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Scarve's servant, Jacob Post, is without, and wishes to speak with
you."
" What's his business ?" demanded Abel, sharply.
" I didn't inquire, sir," replied Mr. Jukes; " but something, I
should fancy, relating to Miss Hilda."
k Most likely," said Abel. " Show him in."
And the next moment Jacob was admitted. He had his crab-
stick under his arm, and twisted his hat between his fingers as
before, looking in any way but direct at Abel. Seeing his pre-
sence was desired by neither party, Mr. Jukes retired.
" Well, friend, what has brought you hither?" asked Abel.
Jacob coughed, and tried to clear away the huskiness that
impeded his articulation.
" I'm come to see whether you've a situation for me, sir," he
said, after sundry ineffectual attempts at plain speaking.
*' Wages isn't an object with me, sir, they isn't, indeed. And I
should like to serve you better than any other gen'l'man I
know of."
What! have you left Mr. Scarve ?" said Abel.
" Not yet, sir," replied Jacob. " But he's given me notice. And
if he hadn't, I think I should have done the same by him. He's
grown worse than ever. He promised to give me a recommenda-
tion to you ; but I don't think he meant what he said."
" Well, I'll see what can be done for you," rejoined Abel ;
*' that is, if Mr. Jukes can find you a place, for I must leave the
matter entirely to him. But what about your young mistress ?"
" I was comin' to her, sir," replied Jacob ; " but I thought I'd
settle my own affairs first. I've no good news to tell you about
her. Master locked her in her own room last night, and he declares
he wont let her out till she consents to marry his ne'vy."
Abel uttered an angry exclamation.
"Within these few days he's grown a downright barbareous
domestic tyrant!" continued Jacob. "There's no bearing him.
But to be sure he had enough to put him out of his way, yester-
day ; for you must know, sir, he was robbed of fourteen thousand
pounds during our absence. However, he took it more quietly
than one might expect; and I can't help thinkin' as how one Mr.
Cordwell Firebras, a strange gentleman who visited him yester-
mornin', knew somethin' about it."
" Cordwell Firebras ! Has he been with him?" asked Abel, in
surprise.
" He was with him twice yesterday," replied Jacob. " And a
note came from him this morning, which I know, from some
words let fall by the old fellow concernin' it, related to your
ne'vy and his daughter."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Abel.
" I almost fancy Mr. Firebras advised him to make up a
marriage between 'cm," pursued Jacob.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 121
" 'Sdcath !" exclaimed Abel, furiously. "How dares he make
such a proposition ? Who commissioned him to interfere ?"
" That's more than I can tell," replied Jacob. " But howsome*
dever, I don't think master'll pay much attention to him, for he is
going to sign a marriage contract with Mr. Philip Frewin and
his attorney this morninV
" It must not be," rejoined Abel. " That Frewin is an im-
postor."
" So I thought from the first," returned Jacob ; " but yester-
day it was confirmed to me." And he proceeded to detail what
he* had witnessed at the Folly on the Thames.
Abel heard him in silence, and at the close of his narration
said, " Much as I dislike your master painful as the interview
will be to me, I will see him myself. Do not announce my
coming, but take care I obtain admittance. Get some refresh-
ment as quickly as you can, and then make the best of your way
home."
Jacob was not slow in obeying the injunction. Repairing to
the kitchen, in less than five minutes he laid bare a cold shoulder
of lamb, despatched half a dozen lettuces, which he plunged into
a salt-stand, and then thrust almost whole into his capacious
mouth, disposed of rather better than half a loaf, and washed all
down with a large jug of strong ale. He then set off to the
stairs by the riverside, where his boat awaited him, and jumping
into it, pulled off as swiftly as he could to the opposite bank.
CHAPTER XX.
ABEL'S INTERVIEW WITH THE MISER UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE OP BANDULPH
AND CORDWELL FIItKURAS RESULT OF THE MEETING.
HALF an hour afterwards, Abel Beechcroft set forth ; and taking
his way beneath the trees of the Bishop's Walk his own favourite
promenade, where he used to pass the greater portion of each
day, gazing at the broad and beautiful stream flowing past it,
proceeded along the Stangate, and crossing Westminster Bridge,
directed his steps towards the Little Sanctuary. As he approached
the miser's dwelling, a tide of tumultuous feeling pressed upon
him, and he almost doubted his power of sustaining the inter-
view he was about to seek ; but stringing himself up to the task,
he knocked at the door. The summons was instantly answered
by Jacob, who was in readiness, and who, without a word,
admitted him.
"You're just in time, sir," said the latter, in a deep whisper,
as he shut the door; (f he's with him."
" Who? Philip Frewin?" demanded Abel, in the same tone.
" Ay, ay," replied Jacob. " Philip Frewin, and his attorney,
122 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Mr. Diggs." And striding along the passage, he threw open the
door, and bellowed out, "Mr. Abel Beechcroft !"
This unlooked-for announcement, followed by the entrance of
the old man, whose stern features were charged with a menacing
expression, and who did not remove his hat, caused the utmost
surprise and consternation among the trio. The miser was
seated at the table, listening to a clause in a legal instrument
which had been drawn up by Diggs, who was reading it to him,
but who instantly stopped on hearing the name of his visitor
Philip, whose back was to the door, turned round in some con-
fusion, and the miser, though greatly disconcerted, made an
effort to command himself, and said in a voice of forced polite-
ness, though suppressed rage, " May I ask to what I am to
attribute the honour of this most unexpected visit, Mr. Beech-
croft ?"
" You will attribute it solely to the interest I take in your
daughter's welfare, Mr. Scarve," replied Abel. " I would pre-
serve her from the arts of a scoundrel, to whom you are about to
consign her."
" You are not perhaps aware in whose presence you stand,
Mr. Beechcroft?" cried Philip, rising, and furiously regarding
him.
" I believe you are Mr. Philip Frewin, the very person I
referred to," replied Abel, coldly.
" Then I am to understand you applied the opprobrious term
you have just used to me ?" cried Philip.
" Most distinctly !" rejoined Abel. " And I am willing to repeat
it to strengthen it if you desire it."
" Sir, you shall render me an account for this insolence !"
cried Philip, clapping his hand to his side, and betraying by the
movement for he was disguised in his tattered apparel that
he was accustomed to carry a sword.
" Let the law deal with him, my good sir," interrupted Diggs.
" You have a fair ground of action for defamation. As a profes-
sional man, I warn you to take heed what you say of my respect-
able client, Mr. Beechcroft."
" You and 'your respectable client' will pursue whatever
course you think proper," replied Abel; "but do not imagine
your menaces will prevent me from disclosing the truth to
Mr. Scarve."
"If you come to defame my nephew to me, Mr. Beechcroft,
your errand will be fruitless," said the miser, who had by this
time fully recovered his composure. " I must decline hearing
anything you have to say. After what passed between us, years
ago, I am surprised you should come here at all; and I am still
more surprised that you have obtained admittance, which you
certainly would not have done if my inclinations had been con-
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 123
suited. Bat it seems I am no longer master of my own house,
or of my own servant."
" Mr. Scarve," said Abel, in a commanding tone, and with a
look that made the miser quail, " I have been called upon
solemnly called upon to take this step. You well know the
opinion I entertain of you, and the abhorrence in which I hold
you, and that nothing would have brought me near you but a
matter of the utmost urgency. I have been called upon, I repeat,
by an appeal which I could not resist" his voice slightly trembled
" to befriend your daughter, and at the sacrifice of all per-
sonal consideration, I will befriend her. She herself has told
me she has the strongest dislike to your nephew, and never will
marry him."
" All this may be very true, sir," replied the miser; " but I am
at a loss to understand the right you have to mix yourself up in
my affairs."
" He has no right whatever, legal or otherwise, to do so,"
interposed Diggs.
" I shall assume the right, then," replied Abel. " Mr. Scarve,
if you are deaf to the appeal I have made to you, if you can resist
the dying wish of your much-injured wife, for hers is the charge
laid upon me, and are determined to force the inclinations ot
your child if neither of these instances have weight with you,
at least exercise the prudence which has hitherto been supposed
to guide your conduct. You know me too well to suppose for an
instant that I would deceive you. I therefore, in your presence,
and in his presence, denounce your nephew as an impostor a
cheat a swindler !"
" 'Sdcath ! sir, if you go on thus," cried Philip, fiercely,
"neither your years nor my uncle's presence shall protect you."
" Let him pursue his own course," said Diggs, taking up a pen,
and making some hasty memoranda on a sheet of paper. " We
shall have swingeing damages swingeing damages."
"Mr. Bcechcroft," said the miser, " the opinion you have ex-
pressed of me is fully reciprocated. You cannot hate me more
than I hate you. Nevertheless, I am free to admit that you are
incapable of advancing a deliberate falsehood; and I therefore
believe that you think what you tell me of my nephew. But
you are completely deceived ; and some one, for a base purpose,
has practised upon your credulity. Mr. Philip Frewin is a care-
ful and a prudent man far too careful to please you and has
in a few years, saved a large sum of money. This, his attorney
and mine, Mr. Biggs, will, I am persuaded, testify to you."
" Unless bonds, mortgages, and leases, to the tune of twenty
thousand pounds and upwards go for nothing, I certainly can do
so," replied Diggs. " Mr. Philip Frewin is worth that sum,
besides fifty thousand pounds left him by his father, and which I
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
have every reason to believe be holds in bis possession. I agree
\\\lh you, Mr. Scarve, Mr. Beechcroft must be the dupe of sonic
<lesio;ning person. But I can soon convince him of bis error."
" You will, perhaps, convince my attorney, Mr. Plaskett, < f
Lincoln's Inn, whom I have instructed to make inquiries on the
^subject, sir," returned Abel, incredulously. " Meantime, I am
satisfied that I have sufficient warrant for my opinion, and I
therefore adhere to it. I also give you warning, Mr. Diggs, that
I shall hold you accountable for your statement. You say that
Mr. Philip Frewin is wealthy that you have deeds of his in
^our possession proving him worth twenty thousand pounds and
upwards. Let those deeds be exhibited to Mr. Scarve/'
" There is some reason in this, Diggs," remarked the miser.
*' I should like to see them."
"If my client permits it, and you desire it, I ran have no
objection," replied Diggs, readily, yet with a certain uneasiness;
"but I am grieved to think such a degrading course should be
necessary to support a character which ought to be above all
.suspicion."
" Circumstances seem to render it necessary," said the miser.
"And it must be as satisfactory to my nephew, as it will be
^agreeable to myselfj that his character should be cleared from
these aspersions."
"Undoubtedly," replied Philip; "and I will not rest till I
have so cleared it,"
" And to reduce the charges to a distinct form," said Abel,
rsternly, "I declare you, Philip Frewin, to be a ruined spend-
thrift and debauchee, seeking, under the disguise of a wretched
miser, to delude your uncle into giving you his daughter. I
charge you, also, Mr. Diggs, with assisting him in the cheat.
As a professional man, you well know what the consequences of
jour fraudulent conduct will be."
" Aware that I have nothing to fear, I deride your threat,"
^aid Diggs, boldly.
"And so do I," added Philip, with a quavering laugh.
"May I hope, then, that you will suspend all further nego-
tiations respecting your daughter's marriage till you are further
satisfied on these points, Mr. Scarve ?" said Abel.
" I will," replied the miser.
" Mr. Beechcroft may appear very disinterested in this matter,"
said Philip; "but in my opinion, the main object of his inter-
ference is to obtain my cousin's hand for his own nephew, Mr
Eandulph Crew."
" So far from that being the case," said Abel, " I would as
'loon consent to her union with yourself as with him."
" Hum 1" 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'
may, depend upon it, she shall never be the wife of Ran-
dulpli Crew with my consent, or with a farthing of mine."
" Or of mine," subjoined Abel.
As these words were uttered, the side door opened, and Hilda-
entered, followed by Mrs. Clinton.
" Ah !" exclaimed the miser, darting an angry look at her..
" What do yon 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 his-
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 I 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. 4< 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."
" You are hasty, Philip "
BOOK THE SECOND.
TRUSSELL BEECHCROFT.
CHAPTER I.
TRUSSELL'S APPEARANCE AFTER HIS DEBAUCH HE PROCEEDS WITH RANDULPH TO
LADY BRABAZON'S THE PARTY GO TO MARYLEBONE GARDENS.
NEITHER Randolph nor his uncle felt disposed for conversation
during their walk to Lambeth, whither they proceeded on quitting'
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 in 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
Hushed with the previous night's debauch. An open note lay
beside 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 answer, 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, (f though I don't know
what has been wrong. I've just received a note from Lady
Brabazon, Randolph, inviting us to accompany her to Marylebone
Gardens this afternoon. You know we are engaged to dine with
Sir 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, Randolph," pursued Trussell,
" because there is a fete there to-day, and you are sure to be much
amused. You'll 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 garb that's
all," laughed Abel.
" I'll now go and dress," said Trussell. " Lady Brab has sent
tis a subscription ticket," he added, pointing to a silver medal,
about the size of a modern ivory Opera ticket, or " bone,"
stamped with designs in bold bas-relief, numbered, and inscribed
*' MARYBONE ADMIT TWO," with the date, 1744.
Abel took up the ticket, glanced at it, and laid it down with a
smile. Randulph 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 h is folfy 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
lie 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-hilled 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 delay 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, rosv 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
Rexes, and no less than six horses, in safety to the opposite side
K
ISO THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
of the river. At the corner of Abingdon-street, they found a
coach which Abel instantly engaged, and got into it, while Mr.
Jukes with some difficulty clambered up to the box. They then
drove along the Horseferry Road ; passed at the back of Buck-
ingham House, and proceeded along Hyde Park-lane to their
destination.
Meanwhile, Trussell and Randulph, having arrived at Lady
Brabazon's, were ushered into a magnificently-furnished drawing-
room, where they found Beau Villiers, Sir Singleton Spinke,
Clementina, and her ladyship ; by the latter of whom they were
very graciously received. Lady Brabazon instantly perceived
Randulph's dejection, and exerting all her powers of wit and rail-
lery soon raised his 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 apparent, that a slight
feeling of jealousy was roused in the breast of the beau, and he
.somewhat abruptly intimated his intention of giving up a drive
to Richmond, which he had meditated, and of accompanying
them, instead, to Marylebone Gardens. This change of plan
was not altogether to her ladyship's taste ; but she affected to be
delighted with it.
(( By-the-by, Mr. Crew," she said to Randulph, " you must
attend my Drum to-morrow night. I have asked the new beauty
whom Villiers has discovered I mean Miss Scarve, the miser's
daughter. She's perfectly charming, Villiers says but I forget :
I needn't describe her, for you have seen her. As I live, I have
called a blush to your cheeks I Ha ! ha ! don't you envy him his
power of blushing, Villiers ? Mr. Trussell Beechcroft, I suspect
your nephew is in love with Miss Scarve. See how he crimsons
at the mention of her name."
" Your ladyship forgets that my nephew is but newly imported
from the country," replied Trussell. " He is not accustomed to
the raillery of persons of your ladyship's wit."
"There's something more than bashfulncss in his confusion,"
replied Lady Brabazon. " Mr. Crew is smitten by Miss Scarve
let him deny it if he can. And so for that matter is Villiers."
" I' faith am I," replied the beau ; "and if her father will give
her fifty thousand pounds, which I know he can do, I will make
her a present of my name and person."
" You don't think it necessary to ask the young lady's consent ?"
said Randulph, scarcely able to conceal his displeasure.
" Assuredly not," replied the beau, with a self-sufficient smile,
which Randulph thought perfectly intolerable " I fancy I'm
pretty certain of that."
M r Cripps encountering his Master in Mary -le-"bonc Gardens.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 13]
"You see you've no chance, Mr. Crew," laughed Lady
Brabazon "your only resource is to get some other fair dame or
damsel to take compassion on you 1"
" Your ladyship, for example," said the beau, in a sarcastic
and significant whisper. But the young man doesn't seem
disposed to profit by the suggestion."
Randulph's thoughts, indeed, were elsewhere at the moment.
" Well, I suspect Miss Scarve wont turn out half so beautiful
as Mr. Villiers represents her," said Clementina, who couldn't
bear to hear any other beauty spoken of except her own. " I've
generally been disappointed in the objects of his admiration, and
make no doubt she will be like the rest of them very common-
place and very vulgar."
" She is neither one nor the other," said Randulph, with some
vivacity.
" Didn't I tell you he was in love with her !" cried Ladv
Brabazon, screaming with laughter, and displaying her brilliant
teeth. " She has refused him, and that accounts for his
dejection."
Randulph's cheeks literally burnt with shame.
" Egad ! Lady Brab, I believe you have hit the right nail on
the head this time," whispered Sir Singleton Spinke.
" Your ladyship is a little too hard on my nephew," interposed
Trussell. " Spare him, I entreat of you."
"Indeed, I sha'n't," replied Lady Brabazon ; "he must learn
to take such matters with indifference."
" Well, I hope we shall have an opportunity of seeing this fair
creature," said Sir Singleton ; " but I fear her father wont let her
come. I'm told he watches her like a green dragon."
"I've asked him to bring: her," said Lady Brabazon, "and I
know he wont refuse me. Shall I confess to you, Mr. Crew?'"
she added, laying her small white hand on his arm, " I've an
admirer in this miser, whose heart is supposed to be fixed on his
gold. Is not that a triumph ?"
" A glorious one !" laughed Trussell. " But I don't wonder
at any conquest on the part of your ladyship. Saint Anthony
himself would not have been proof against you."
" If Mr. Scarve should propose, I advise your ladyship to accept
him," said the beau.
" In that case, it wont do for you to make an offer to his
daughter, Villiers," rejoined Lady Brabazon ; "for I shall require
him to settle all his property on me."
" Then I must get beforehand with you," said the beau, " for
I'm resolved to have her."
At this moment, a footman entered, and informed Lady Braba-
zon that her carriage was at the door. He was followed by the
little black page, leading the lap-dog by a silken cord.
" I shall not want you to-day, Mustapha," said her ladyship,
K2
132 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
taking the cord from him. " I will give Sappho an airing
myself." She then arose, and taking Randulph's arm, and
quitting the room with him, proceeded, through a line of powdered
and richly-habited lackeys, to her carriage.
Clementina was escorted by Sir Singleton, and the two ladies
being seated, Randulph was requested to take a place beside
them. Mr. Villiers accommodated the two other gentlemen in
his gilt chariot the admiration of the day and the carriages
were ordered to drive to Marylebone Gardens.
CHAPTER II.
MKS. FETTLESHIP MR. CRIPPS PERSONATES HIS MASTER MARYLEBOXB
GARDENS MR. CRIPPS DETECTED.
BEFORE repairing to Marylebone Gardens, it will be needful to
inquire into the proceedings of another person who proposed to
visit it namely, Mr. Cripps. Mr. Villiers, it will be remem-
bered, had intended to drive over to Richmond on the day in
question to fulfil an engagement of more than a week's standing
but had suddenly, from jealousy or whim, changed his mind.
Calculating, however, upon his master's adherence to his original
plan, the valet had determined to profit by his absence to visit
^Marylebone Gardens.
Mr. Cripps, it has been shown, was a very great person in his
own estimation; but he sometimes represented himself as a far
greater person than he had any title to be considered, and induing
himself in his master's clothes, laid claim also to his master's title;
in other words, sinking the vulgar name of Cripps, he assumed
the aristocratic one of Villiers. His displays of this kind were
chiefly confined to the eastern side of the metropolis, where he
was pretty certain not to meet either his master or his master's
friends; his principal places of resort being White Conduit-
house, Sadler's Wells, Hockley-in-the-Hole, Islington, Hogsden,
and certain other places of entertainment on the Surrey side of
the water.
One Sunday, when he was so disporting himself at White
1 Conduit-house, he contrived to strike up an acquaintance with a
very showy dame who happened to be there, and who was dazzled
by his brilliant exterior and airy manners so superior, she
thought, to those of the vulgar throng around her. Having
.attended her during her stay, Mr. Cripps called a coach for her,
led her to it, and was rewarded by a tender look and a tenderer
squeeze of the hand at parting. He had previously ascertained
that the lady's name was Nettleship, that she was the relict of a
tallow-chandler, and resided in Billiter-square ; that she possessed
A handsome property, bequeathed to her by her deceased spouse,
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 133
the tallow-chandler aforesaid ; and moreover, that she was with-
out incumbrances. Fortune thus appeared to have thrown a
rich prize in his way, if he could but obtain it. He found, how-
ever, on further inquiry, that Mrs. Nettleship was under a mar-
riage engagement to her late husband's partner, Mr. Rathbone,
who was at thattime in the country collecting debts, and settling
his affairs. But though this circumstance certainly appeared
untoward, he determined to persevere, being firmly persuaded
that in love matters to dare was generally to succeed. With this
view, he contrived to meet Mrs. Nettleship as often as he could,
and had been exactly half-a-dozen times in her company prior to
the opening of this history, during which period he contrived to
heighten the agreeable impression he had produced on their first
acquaintance, and in a great degree to obliterate the image of
Mr. Rathbone.
Mrs. Nettleship was a lady rather below the middle size, but
not altogether destitute of personal attractions. She had a very
full and very comely figure, very white and very rounded little
arms, with pink dimpling elbows : and though she had no neck,
or at least none that was perceptible, from the wreaths of fat
above and below it, she had cheeks large and round enough to
make up for the deficiency. Her eyes were as small as those of
a Chinese lady, but very black and bright bright enough, her
late husband used to say, " to light a candle at ;" and her nose
had the prettiest turned up point in the world. It was this fea-
ture, in especial, that called forth the descriptive powers of Mr.
Cripps, who appeared in a state of ecstasy whenever he contem-
plated it or thought of it, and having a slightly turned up nose
himself, contended, reasonably enough, that no beauty could
exist without such a formation, and that Grecian noses, and
above all, Roman noses, were detestable and unendurable. It
was not difficult to bring Mrs. Nettleship to his opinion ; and
though she flustered and blushed at bis compliments and fine
speeches, and professed to think them too extravagant, it was
evident she swallowed them as easily as if they had been straw-
berries and cream.
Mrs. Nettleship was at an age when, more than any other,
such compliments are estimated ; she was exactly forty-five, and
she therefore knew the full value of her attractions. During
their interviews, she had often expressed a strong desire to visit
Ranelagh, Marylebone Gardens, or Vauxhall, in company with
her admirer; but Mr. Cripps constantly evaded the request,
under some plea or other, until an opportunity appeared to
present itself, in his master's proposed drive to Richmond, and
he resolved to hazard a visit to Marylebone Gardens with her,
fervently praying it might decide his hopes.
So soon, therefore, as the coast was clear, he repaired to his
master's dressing-room, and with the assistance of Antoine, the
Io4- THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
French valet, ransacked the wardrobe, and attired himself in the
richest habiliments it contained. Thus the embroidered scarlet
coat, the flowered silk waistcoat, the black velvet breeches, the
pearl-coloured silk hose, that had decorated the beau's own
person on the previous day were now transferred to his own.
To these he added one of his master's finest laced shirts, and a
point-lace cravat. A pair of large diamond buckles were fixed
to his shoes, and a silver hilted sword to his side. He next
selected a large and brilliant ring from the beau's jewel-box,
which he placed upon his finger; covered his cheeks and chin
with patches; put on a full flowing Ramillies periwig; thrust a
magnificent gold snuff-box into his pocket, together with a fine
cambric handkerchief; chose the handsomest clouded cane he
could find ; took up a feathered hat which had only been once
before worn by his master, and which he himself had prevented
him from wearing on that day ; and having contemplated himself
with great complacency in the large cheval-glass before him,
declared to Antoine that he thought he should do !
Receiving a confirmatory reply from the French valet, he went
down a back staircase, which he had often traversed before when
bent on secret expeditions, and quitted the house. A coach was
waiting for him at the corner of Spring Gardens, into which he
got, and ordered the coachman to drive for very life to the top of
Harley-street, where he had appointed to meet Mrs. Nettle-
ship, and where, in fact, he found her waiting for him.
Discharging his own vehicle, he handed the lady out of hers;
and apologising to her for having detained her, led the way to
the gardens. He launched out into an eloquent panegyric on
her dress, which he designated as ravishing, predicting its effect
..on the assemblage they were about to join. Mrs. Nettleship
:had, indeed, taken quite as much pains with her toilette as her
admirer ; and it was no slight satisfaction to her to find her efforts
appreciated. Her gown was of blue and silver silk of the richest
description, and inflated almost to the size of a balloon by an
enormous hoop. She wore diamond ear-rings, and a diamond
.solitaire, while her neck was encircled by a chain of large orient
pearls. Her stomacher was spotted with plated silver, and thickly
.studded with Bristol stones. Her sleeves were short and wide,
tied above the elbow with white satin bows, and edged with deep
falls of lace. Her cap was of pink silk, and caul-shaped, and
from behind it floated two streamer-like crimson ribands. Her
ruddy complexion, which needed no aid of rouge, was relieved
by abundance of patches, while her little fat fingers, rosy as those
of Aurora, pept from out a pair of black mittens. A large fan,
then as indispensable to a lady as a sword to a gentlemen, com-
pleted her appointments.
Marylebone Gardens, it is well known, lay on the eastern side
of the upper end of the lane bearing the same name the whole
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 135
of the country beyond Harley-street, which was not more than a
third of its present extent, being open fields. They were of
considerable size, and were originally laid out and planted at the
beginning of the last century, at which time the public were
gratuitously admitted to them. In one part of the grounds there
was an excellent bowling green, which drew many lovers of that
most agreeable recreation to it. By degrees, the gardens being-
very conveniently situated, rose in repute; and in 1737, their
proprietor, Mr. Gough, began to demand a shilling for admit-
tance this sum entitling the visitor to its value in refreshments.
But still further improvements were effected. Orchestras, boxes,
and a theatre for musical entertainments, were erected within
them. Besides the main walks, semicircular rows of trees were
planted, and hedges contrived so as to form pleasing labyrinths
for those who preferred privacy. Bowers and alcoves were built
in different places; lamps were fastened to the trees, and at
night, on the occasion of a fete, every part of the garden was
illuminated with myriads of lamps of various colours. The com-
pany began to improve, and the price of admission was raised to
live shillings. Fetes of every kind were held here; and the
place continued in vogue until nearly the end of the century
with which its rise commenced. Malcolm mentions that a few
trees, once forming part of Marylebone Gardens, were standing
at the north end of Harley-street, in 1808. But we fear not
even a stump of one of them is now left.
Carriages, coaches, and chairs were setting down their occu-
pants at the entrance to the gardens, as Mr. Cripps and his
companion drew near. Never had Mrs. Nettleship seen a gayer
throng the dresses she thought magnificent. There was Lady
Ancaster, whom Mr. Cripps pointed out to her, in a brocaded
lutestring sack, with ruby-coloured ground and white tobine
stripes trimmed with floss the Countess of Pom fret, in a black
satin sack flowered with red and white Lady Almeria Vane, in
a scarlet unwatered tabby sack Lady Ilchester, in a white tissue
flowered sack. All these ladies wore hoops ; but none of them,
Mr. Cripps assured his companion, managed this equipment with
half so much grace as herself.
Throughout this stage of the business, Mr. Cripps had some
difficulty in playing his part, and it required all his effrontery to
enable him to go through with it. Having affirmed to his com-
panion that he was an intimate acquaintance of all the ladies of
rank he encountered, and in the habit of attending their routs
and parties, he was under the necessity of sustaining the cha-
racter, and kept constantly bowing and kissing his hand to them.
In most cases he succeeded; for the ladies he addressed, deceived
by his showy attire, which seemed to mark him as somebody,
returned his salutations. Mrs. Nettleship was enchanted. To
be attended by so fashionable a person, who knew all the beau
186 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
monde, was supreme felicity. She would have given the world
to be introduced to some of the fashionable ladies, and intimated
as much to her companion ; but he was too shrewd to attend to
the suggestion, contenting himself with saying, with a very im-
passioned look, " I hope, my angel, that one of these days, I
shall have the honour of introducing you to my fair friends
under another name. 'Twould make me the happiest of men
? pon rep !"
" Od's bodikins ! Mr. Willars, how you do confuse me !" ex-
claimed the lady, spreading her large fan before her face.
By this time they had gained the principal avenue leading to-
wards the orchestra, and at each step he took, Mr. Cripps kissed
his hand to some elegantly dressed person.
" There's my friend tord Effingham arid his countess," he
said " glad to see you, my lord that's the pretty Mrs. Rack-
ham a bride, sweetheart, a bride,' 1 with tender emphasis
" that's the rich Mrs. Draper I daren't look at her, for she's-
determined to have me, whether I will or no, and I can't make
up my mind to it, though she's promised to settle sixty thousand
pounds upon me, and to die in six months.
"La ! Mr. Willars, you wouldn't sell yourself to such an ojus.
creature as that I" cried Mrs. Nettleship " why, she's a perfect
fright, and so dressed 1"
" Precisely what you describe her, 'pon rep I" replied Mr*
Cripps. " But do listen to the music. Isn't it inspiring?"
And they paused for a moment to listen to the lively strains
proceeding from the orchestra, which was placed at one end of a
large building facing the principal walk.
By this time, the company had almost entirely assembled.
The main walk was completely thronged, and presented the
appearance of the Mall at high tide, while all the boxes and
alcoves were filled with persons discussing bowls of punch, plates
of ham, chickens, salads, and other good things. The band in
the orchestra was excellent, and the lively airs and symphonies
added to the excitement and spirit of the scene. Mr. Cripps
created a great sensation. Many persons thought they had seen
him before, but no one could tell who he was. Meanwhile, the
object of this attention continued to dispense his bows and
smiles, flourished his clouded cane, tapped his magnificent snuff-
box, and after astonishing all the beholders with his coxcombry,
glided off with his companion into one of the side walks.
He had scarcely disappeared, when Lady Brabazon and her
party entered the main walk. Her ladyship led her little spaniel
by its string, and was attended on one side by the beau, and on
the other by Trussell. Behind them walked Clementina, who
had contrived to allure Randulph from her mother, and to
attach him to her, while on the young man's left walked Sir
Singleton Spinke.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 137
Everybody whom Mr. Villiers encountered told him of the
prodigious beau who had just been seen on the walk Lore)
Effingham, Major Burrowes, Lord Dyncover, Sir John Fagg *
all described him.
" Who the devil is he?" cried Villiers.
" Haven't the least idea," replied Sir John Fagg. " But I'll
speak to him, if I meet him again. He's your very double,
Villiers. I'll swear he has employed Desmartins to make him a
suit precisely like your own."
" Has he ?" cried the beau, indignantly " Then I'll never
employ a rascally Frenchman again I and what is more, I wont
pay him his bill."
The same thing was told him by twenty other persons, and
the beau looked anxiously round for his personator, but was for
some time unable to discern him.
Meanwhile, Mr. Cripps had sought this secluded walk to give
him an opportunity of making a declaration to the widow, and
though he was not positively accepted, he was not decidedly
refused, the lady only asking time to consider over* the pro-
posal. The audacious valet was on his knees, and rapturously
kissing her hand, vowing he would never rise till he received a
favourable answer to his suit, when two persons were seen
approaching, whom, to his infinite mortification and surprise, he
recognised as Abel Beechcroft, and his uncle, Mr. Jukes.
"\\e are interrupted, my charmer!" he cried, getting up, with
a countenance of angry dismay " Let us return to the public
promenade. You wont refuse me? I shall kill myself, 'pon
rep, if you do !"
" I'll think of it, Mr. Willars," said Mrs. Nettleship, twirling
her fan. " But it would be a dreadful thing if I was to break
my engagement to Mr. Rathbone 1"
" Oh ! curse Mr. Rathbone I I'll cut his throat !" cried Mr.
Cripps, glancing anxiously down the walk. But unfortunately
there was no outlet at the lower end, and he was compelled ta
turn and face the intruders. He looked also to the right and
left, but on neither side was there an alcove into which he could
retreat. Nothing was left for it but impudence, and luckily for
him, this quality seldom deserted him at a pinch. Putting on his
boldest manner, he strutted gaily, and with affected nonchalance,
towards Abel and his uncle, who, as he advanced, stepped a
little aside to look at him.
"Why, as I live!" cried Abel, "that's Mr. Villiers's valet
your nephew. Jukes."
" Lord save us ! so it is," cried Mr. Jukes, lifting up his hands
in astonishment. " Why, Crackenthorpe, what are you doing
here and in your master's clothes?"
"Truce to "your jests, old fellow," said Mr. Cripps, waving
him off, " and let me pass."
138 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" What ! disown your uncle !" cried Mr. Jukes, angrily, " and
in the presence of his worthy master! The rascal would deny
his own father. Pav me the ten crowns you borrowed yester-
day."
" La I Mr. Willars, what's the meaning of all this r" asked
Mrs. Nettleship.
" Ton 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 I" 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 valet."
" 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 I Crackenthorpe, 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 followed them at a short
distance.
It fell out as Abel had foreseen. As Mr. Cripps issued into
the broad walk, right before him, and not many yards off, were
his master and Lady Brabazon, together with the rest of the
party. 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 discomposure. On the con-
trary, he drew forth his snuff-box, took a pinch, in his airiest
manner, and said to Mrs. Nettleship " 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 beau,
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 bold
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 de-cide it
'pon rep !"
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 1S3
Mr. Villicrs regarded him in astonishment, mixed with some
little admiration; and at length his good nature got the better of
his anger.
" 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, in
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 I hope he may
be successful."
CHAPTER III.
A JIAN-OF-TUE-WORLD'S ADVICE ON A MATTES OP THE HEART THE VISIT TO THB
HAYMARKET THEATRE, AND THE SUPPER AFTERWARDS WITH KITTY CONWAY
RANDULPH AGAIN AWKWARDLY CIRCUMSTANCED WITH HILDA.
ON the morning succeeding the visit to Marvlebone Gardens,
commemorated in the preceding chapter, as Trussell 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 had
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 offend 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 you," replied Trus-
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 1" 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 Trussell ; " unless you
choose to have recourse to the gaming-table, or the highway.
You may, 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
Cord well 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 Trussell, 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 my heart is otherwise
engaged."
" Pshaw I" exclaimed Trussell, " 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 DAUGHTER.
the-by, it just occurs to me that we are to meet your lady love at
the drum to night. Now let me advise you 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 !
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.
6 Very true !" said Trussell, gravely.
<I wont receive the back-word," said Randulph. "I'll go in
spite of her ladyship."
" Poh I 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, since 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, Trusseli 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 coifee-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 resist the bumpers pressed
upon him by his jovial uncle, who assured him that the best way
142 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
of getting rid of care was to drown it in the glass. A third
bottle was called for and disposed of; and Trnssell then ordered
a coach, and privately instructed the driver to take them to the
little 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, who,
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 Randolph, like the rest of
the house, was in raptures with her. He applauded vehemently,
and as Kilty gracefully 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
vie\v.
Trussell, who had noted with secret satisfaction the effect
produced by the pretty actress upon his nephew, and who had,
perhaps not undcsignedly, 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!" laughed Trussell. "I
had a better opinion of you. I'll take care of you. Let me see
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 I"
" 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
Jhis over, they quitted the house, and repaired to the abode of
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER, 143
the pretty actress. A footman in rich livery admitted them,
and ushered them into a small but exquisitely-furnished apart-
ment, blazing with wax-lights and mirrors, where they found
Kitty seated on a couch, conversing with an old gentleman, who,
as he looked up at their entrance, proved to be Sir Singleton
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 himself. 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, you may have perceived I didn't know how-to address my
billet"
66 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 coming;, or I would have
taken care to apprise you of their names. This is Mr. Randulph
Crew, newly arrived from Cheshire, and with all the freshness
in every sense of the country about him. And this is his uncle,
Mr. Trusscll 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 you were unknown to
her."
" Our acquaintance is only of two days' date," said Kitty.
* f Sir Singleton was good enough to send me r^"
" Hush ! hush ! sweet Kitty, I implore you," interrupted the
old beau.
" Nay, I haven't been enjoined to secresy," she rejoined.
" He sent me a suit of diamonds worth five hundred pounds,
entreating a moment's interview in return, which, of course, I
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 Randulph, and the old beau and
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Trusscll contended for the elderly lady, who at length fell to the
charge of the former.
Meanwhile, 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 fireplace hung a portrait of Kitty herself in one
of her favourite characters, and Randulph commented upon it?
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
ice 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."
(f I am quite of your opinion," said Trusscll. tf Allow me to
offer you a wing of a chicken."
" Thankye," replied Kitty. " Pray take care of yourself. Have
jou 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 llandulph.
" 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 you have seen."
" Singularly 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 were
engaged to Lady Brab's drum ?"
" So I was," replied the old beau. " In fact, I've been there
for a couple of hours ; but I prefer 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 Randulph, 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."
t( 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.
u It sometimes gives one a pain in the heart," said Kitty
" and I feared that such might be the case with you."
" She 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."
Randulph 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,
smiling. " 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
tell you anon. She was attended by Sir Norfolk Salusbury,
who, I believe, is a relation of hers."
L
146 THE MISERS DAUGHTER.
u Sir Norfolk is her cousin on her mother's side," remarked
Trussell.
" He is a stiff, punctilious old fellow," laughed 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 Trussell.
" 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 him, 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, f 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,
Tve lost some money in my time, 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
lively. Kitty presently volunteered a song, which she executed so
charmingly, that it quite ravished her auditors. Infact,herspright-
liness, beauty, and accomplishments, coupled with her winning
manners and good-nature, made her almost irresistible and so
Randulph found. The champagne circulated freely, and its effects
began to be slightly manifest on the two elderly 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.
Kitty 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.
" I believe, sir," he said, " you are the person I saw at Mr.
Scarve's, and whom I previously met at the Folly on the Thames.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 14/7
May I ask the meaning of the masquerade attire you assumed
yesterday?"
"You are under some mistake, sir," rejoined Philip, with great
effrontery. "I know nothing of Mr. Scarve."
" Not know him !" cried Randulph, in amazement. " I under-
stood you were his nephew, Philip Frewin."
" I am no relation to Mr. Scarve, and my name is not Philip
Fruin," replied the other.
Kitty Conway here burst into aloud laugh, which she continued
in spite of Philip's angry looks.
" Will you oblige me with your real name, then ?"' demanded
Randulph, after a pause.
" No, sir, I will not," replied Philip. " What the devil is it to
you what I 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 Randulph 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 him
with a courage foreign to his craven nature, Philip strode towards
Randulph, apparently with the intention of carrying his threat
into execution ; but before he could reach him, Kitty threw
herself between them. Under her shelter, Philip became so
violent in his manner and offensive 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 with
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 captor, walked
two other persons, preceded by a link-boy, 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 was
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 Kitty 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 MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Jacob, meanwhile, having discovered the prize lie had caught,
lost no time in announcing his good luck.
" Look here, sir !" he cried, triumphantly ; " look at your
miserly nephew! I have him fast enough. Look at the clothes
he has on. Mayhap he'll deny himself now. Look at him, I
say, sir ! 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, I will explain how I came to be here, and
in this dress. I have been put in peril of my life by llandulph
Crew, who stands there with his mistress."
" Release him, Jacob," said the miser.
" I'd 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-
lently. " Come away, I beseech 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 other
time, nephew some other time."
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 }'ou got rid of him ?" cried the former.
" Look where he runs," laughed Kitty. " Who 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.
te The devil !" exclaimed Trussell " and they saw you with
my nephew ? Why, this is worse than the Folly on the Thames !"
" Far worse I" 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.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
And murmuring some apology to Kitty, he bade her good
night, and walked off with 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, Kitty," replied Sir Singleton, "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.
BANDULPH'S CAREER OF GAIETY ABEL'S REMARKS UPON IT TO MR. JUKES.
RANDOLPH'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
<lone 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 fiom 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
any means extricate himself from it. The effect of this was soon
manifest in his habits, in his attire, and in his manners; and
150 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
though the change was mightily approved of by Trussell, it was
viewed in a very different light by his more sagacious and far-
sighted uncle.
" Well, Jukes," said the latter, one day, to his butler, " my
first opinion of Randulph is fully borne out by his conduct."
" Why, he is rather gay, to be sure," replied Mr. Jukes. u 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 seerns to have got him completely into her toils."
tf Ah ! she's a dangerous woman !" said Mr. Jukes, lifting up
his hands u 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 you know 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 Ranelagh 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 Abel.
" 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 addresses to will go as
columbine."
"Precisely what she means to do, sir," laughed Mr. Jukes.
" Get me a domino before Thursday, Jukes ; I'll go to this
masquerade myself," said Abel.
"Why, sir, you're becoming as great a rake as your nephew,"
returned Mr. Jukes, laughingly. "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 him
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 coining to town. I've endeavoured to dis-
suade her from the step, but she says she is uneasy about Ran-
dulph."
Well, I hope she'll come," returned Mr. Jukes; "I'm sure
she's wanted just now."
Masqtu >'Ii gardens.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" I've no wish to see her," said Abel, sternly. There has
been a coolness 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 \now," 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 suppose you can understand."
"I understand no such thing," replied Abel, tartly; "but I
152 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
perfectly understand how excessive addiction to pleasure injures
the best principles and chills the warmest affections. Filial love
and duty have little influence when dissipation lias obtained the
sway."
" 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 'keep,' as my brother says, till to-night, and you may
possibly be then in a better frame of mind for its perusal. When
you have possessed yourself of its contents, I shall be glad to be
made acquainted with them." And turning away, he retreated
to the library.
It was late when Randulph returned, after a day spent in
gaiety, as usual, and on retiring to his own room, his first busi-
ness was to take out his mother's letter. Opening it, he eagerly
scanned its contents, which ran thus :
" MY DEAR SON, The accounts I have received of your mode
of life have given me inexpressible uneasiness. A mother's hopes
are perhaps seldom fulfilled, and my expectations, I now feel,
were too sanguine ever to be realized. Still, I did not anticipate
such complete disappointment as I have experienced. With
jour generous nature and quick impulses, 1 should not have
been surprised at your being led into slight indiscretions ; but
that you should have plunged so deeply into dissipation, and
^connected yourself with persons so very profligate, grieves me to
the heart. Your conduct I believe is mainly attributable to bad
advice, and therefore, in some degree, to be excused. Your
uncle Trussell is not without principle, and has a kindly dispo-
sition ; but the enjoyment of the moment is all he cares for, and
he is utterly reckless of consequences. I thought I had suffi-
ciently guarded you against him, but I now see my error, and
feel that I ought never to have introduced you to society so
dangerous. My reliance was in your uncle Abel. I persuaded
myself you would discern the good that lies beneath the surface
ot that excellent man, and anticipated much from your intro-
duction to him. Not the least, therefore, of my affliction is the
knowledge that you have forfeited his good opinion. Let me
hope it is not too late to regain it.
"In your first letter you spoke of Hilda Scarve in terms of
the highest admiration. 1 have been informed from another
source that she is as highly gifted as beautiful, and I confess it
would have delighted me to see you united to her. I am aware
there are obstacles in the way; but. they might, perhaps, have
oeen removed. Here again your misconduct, or, to give it its
mildest term, your imprudence, has been prejudicial to you.
" On another point namely, your interview with the mys-
terious individual beneath the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, I
do not deem it prudent to write.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 153
" In conclusion, my dear son, I beseech you to pause in your
headlong career, to abandon the worthless society you have
formed, and to place yourself under the guidance of your uncle
Abel. He can save you. And that he may do so is the fervent
prayer of " Your most affectionate mother,
" SOPHIA CREW."
Randulph read this letter over and over again, and each time
with fresh self-reproaches. He thought his mother viewed his
indiscretions in too serious a light, but he could not disguise from
himself that her fears were well grounded. What chiefly affected
him, however, was the passage referring to Hilda, and its re-
perusal caused him to pace his chamber with agitated steps.
At last he became calmer, and sought his couch; but he could
not sleep, and in the morning arose feverish and unrefreshed.
His uncles were at the breakfast-table before him ; but though
both noticed the dejected and haggard appearance, neither com-
mented upon it. On the contrary, Trusseli was livelier than
usual, and rattled away about the masquerade to be given at
Ranelagh on the following day, dilating upon the amusement to
be expected at it. All at once, Randulph broke silence.
" I do not intend to go to the masquerade, uncle," he said.
" Not go I" exclaimed Trusseli, laying down a piece of broiled
ham which he was conveying to his mouth. " Not go I why
not, in the name of wonder?"
Abel eyed his nephew narrowly.
" I have been too much at such places of late," replied Ran-
dulph.
Trusseli burst into a derisive laugh.
" I see how it is," he said; " you have received a dose of good
counsel from your mother, and are labouring from its effects."
" I trust I shall profit by the advice I have received," replied
Randulph; " and as the first step towards it, I mean to abstain
from the masquerade at Ranelagh."
Abel fastened his grey eyes upon him, as if he would read his
soul, but he made no remark.
" Well, well, do as you please, my dear boy," said Trusseli
" do as you please. IshaVt attempt to persuade you. But a
moment's reflection will convince you that your mother is not in
a condition to judge of your conduct. She can only learn what
YOU are doing by report ; and report always exaggerates. Her
alarm is quite natural. You are a devilish handsome fellow
very much liked by the women very much courted by persons
of quality. People in the country are terribly afraid of pretty
women and great folks ; but you know that both are perfectly
harmless. My only uneasiness about you," he added, with a
dry cough, and a side glance at his brother, " is, that your means
are rather inadequate to your expenses. But you may be richer
one of these days."
154 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
** I see little prospect of it," muttered Abel.
" I think there is every prospect of his making a good match,
sir but that is neither here nor there," replied Trussell.
" I hope you don't allude to Beau Villiers' cast-off mistress,
Lady Brabazon,"said Abel. "I would rather he married Kitty
Conway than that worthless woman. There is at least some
honesty about the actress."
" Do not be apprehensive on that score, uncle," rejoined Ran-
dulph ; " I am not likely to be so duped. My eyes are opened
to my folly."
" How long will they continue so ?" sneered Abel. " Satiety
begets loathing, but with a fresh appetite you will begin anew."
"I hope he will," said Trussell, "for I cannot, for the life of
me, discover the harm he has committed."
" It would surprise me if you did," observed Abel, con-
temptuously.
The conversation here dropped, and the party continued their
breakfast in silence. At its close, the elder uncle quitted the
room.
" You were somewhat rash in forming the resolution you have
just announced, Randulph," observed Trussell, as soon as they
were alone: " I didn't like to say so before mv brother, but I felt
quite sure of your going to the masquerade, notwithstanding
your declaration to the contrary."
" You are mistaken, sir," replied Randulph, with the air of a
person who has come to an unalterable determination.
" No, I am not," rejoined Trussell, smiling; "and when I teil
you that Hilda Scarve will be there, I rather fancy you will
acknowledge the correctness of my remark."
" Ah ! that alters the case, indeed," exclaimed Randulph.
" But are you sure of what you tell me ?"
u As sure as we are now sitting together," replied Trussell.
" She is going there under the escort cf her relation, Sir Nor-
folk Salusbury."
" Then of course I must go," cried Randulph. te I wouldn't
lose the chance of meeting her for the world."
" But you forget you have been too much at such places of
late," jeered Trussell.
" One more visit can make no difference," rejoined Randulph.
" But there's no knowing what it may lead to," pursued Trus-
sell. " Recollect, your eyes are now open to your folly ha ! ha !"
" Laugh as much as you please, uncle," replied Randulph.
"I do not go to see the masquerade but to meet Hilda."
" Well, I'm glad of your determination, on whatever plea you
put it," rejoined Trussell, seriously.
At this juncture, Abel re-appeared.
" Well, Randulph," he said, regarding him " still of the same
mind ? No masquerade to-morrow, eh ?"
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. ] 55
" I fenr you will have little confidence in me in future, when I
tell you I have decided upon going," replied Randulph, colouring
with shame.
" I expected as much," replied Abel, coldly. " I knew you
would not be proof against your uncle's powers of persuasion."
" Indeed, sir, I have not persuaded him," said Trussell.
"Have I, Randulph?"
" You have not," was the reply.
" Then let me give you one piece of advice, Randulph," ob-
served Abel. " Don't boast of your good resolutions until you
have given them a trial."
CHAPTER VL
THE FAIR TIIOMASINE'S VISIT TO HILDA HER MYSTERIOUS COMMUNKLVTION IN
WHAT WAY, AND BY WHOM, THE ATTEMPT TO ORRY OFF HILDA WAS PREVENTED
THE MISER BURIES HIS TREASURE IN THE CELLAR.
DURING all this time, the miser continued to lead precisely the
same life as before. Notwithstanding his application to Abel
Beechcroft, Jacob Post had not quitted his master's service ; for
with all their bickerings and disagreements, the porter was
strongly attached to him. A word, moreover, from Hilda, had
turned the scale, and decided Jacob upon staying. Things
therefore, went on in their usual way. Diggs had contrived, by
producing deeds and other documents, which appeared regularly
executed, to convince the miser that his nephew's account of his
circumstances was correct. But the project of the alliance was
dropped, or suffered to remain in abeyance, and Hilda endured
no further annoyance respecting it.
But it must not be imagined she was perfectly tranquil. On
the contrary, she was haunted by the recollection of Randulph,
who had made a much deeper impression on her heart than she
had at first supposed ; and though she had made the strongest
efforts to banish his image from her thoughts, they were unsuc-
cessful. The very jealousy she had experienced increased the
ilarne ; and her casual encounter with him, as she was returning
from Lady Brabazon's, tended to keep it alive. She saw nothing
of him, and heard nothing of him, except that her father now
and then told her, with a bitter sneer, that he had become ex-
cessively dissipated. But she now began to find excuses for
him, and blamed herself for having acted harshly towards him on
their last interview. Her solitary life, too, contributed to foster
her passion. She had little to dwell on besides him, and his
image being most frequently presented to her imagination, in-
sensibly became linked with her affections.
One morning, when her father was from home, and she was
156 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
sitting in her own room, Jacob tapped at the door, and informed
her that the mercer's daughter from over the way, Miss Tho-
masine Deacle, was below, and begged to speak with her.
She instantly came down stairs, and found the young lady in
question awaiting her, and very finely dressed, being attired in a
red and yellow damask gown, with a red satin stomacher, crossed
with ribands of the same colour, great bunches of ribands at her
ruffles, and a pretty little fly-cap similarly bedizened. She was
gazing round the room with the greatest curiosity, but on seeing
Hilda, rushed towards her, and wringing her hands, exclaimed,
in tones of the deepest commiseration, " And is it in this miser-
able place that loveliness like yours is immured ! What a marble-
hearted tyrant your father must be ?"
Hilda looked at a loss to comprehend the meaning of this
address.
" I beg pardon," pursued the fair Thomasine ; " but I am so
horror-stricken by the sight of these naked walls, and this deso-
late apartment, that I may, perchance, have expressed myself too
strongly. Oh ! how can you exist here, Miss Scarve ?"
" 1 contrive to do so, strange as it may appear/' replied Hilda,
smiling.
u This is a moment I have for months sighed for," cried the
fair Thomasine, falling into a theatrical attitude. "I have
longed tp commune with you unrestrainedly to form a strict
friendship with you. You will soon understand me, as I under-
stand you. Yes, Hilda Scarve and Thomasine Deacle, however
disproportionate their rank, will be constant and attached friends.
From this moment I devote myself to you. We have both many
feelings in common. We both love, and have both been dis-
appointed ; or rather, our affections have been betrayed."
" I must beg you to cease this absurd strain, Miss Deacle, if
the interview is to be continued," replied Hilda, somewhat
haughtily. " I have neither loved, nor been disappointed."
" Nay, fear me not," rejoined the fair Thomasine. " Your
secrets will be as secure in my bosom as in your own. I am a
woman, and know of what a woman's heart is composed. I
deeply sympathize with you. I know how tenderly you love
Ilandulph Crew, and how unworthy he has proved himself cf
jour regard."
" Really, Miss Deacle," cried Hilda, blushing, " I cannot suffer
you to talk in this way."
" I only do so to show you that you may have entire confidence
in me," replied the fair Thomasine. " Ah ! Mr. Crew is very
handsome, very handsome, indeed. I do not wonder at his in-
spiring a strong passion."
"You are mistaken in supposing he has inspired me with
one," rejoined Hilda, somewhat piqued. " I hope you do not
come from him."
THE MISER S DAUGHTER. 157
" Oh, no," replied the fair Thomasine ; "but if I can do aught
to forward the affair if I can convey any message to him com-
mand me."
" It is time to put an end to this nonsense," said Hilda. " If
you have nothing else to speak about to me, except Mr. Randolph
Crew, I must wish you a good morning."
" One object in my coming hither, Miss Scarve, I will frankly
confess, was to make your acquaintance, and I trust, to form a
lasting friendship with you," replied the fair Thomasine, some-
what discomposed. " But my chief motive," she added, assuming
a mysterious look, and lowering her voice to those deep tones in-
which fearful intelligence is announced in a melo-drama, " was-
to inform you that an attempt will be made to carry you off
to-night !"
" Carry me off!" exclaimed Hilda, alarmed.
'' Ay, carry you off!" repeated the fair Thomasine. " Dreadful,,
isn't it ? But it is what all heroines, like ourselves, are subject
to. I may not tell you who gave me the intelligence, but you
may rely upon it. -Vlost likely you have some suspicion of the
hateful contriver of the base design. Our sex are seldom deceived
.11 such matters. I was bound to secrecy, but I could not keep
che matter from you. Whatever happens, I must not be impli-
cated. Promise me I shall not be so. '
" You shall not," replied Hilda.
"And oh, Miss Scarve," pursued the fair Thomasine, "to-
appreciate my regard for you to understand me thoroughly
you must know though I tremble to mention it that you are
my rival yes, my rival ! Your matchless charms have estranged
the affections of my beloved and once-devoted Peter Pokerich.
Still, I feel no resentment against you but, on the contrary, I
admire you beyond expression. A time may come when I may
be useful to you ; and then forget not your humble, but faithful
friend, Thomasine Deacle."
" I will not I will not," replied Hilda, who began to enter-
tain some doubts as to her companion's sanity. " I am greatly
obliged by your information, and will not fail to profit by it.
Good morning."
" Farewell !" exclaimed the fair Thomasine, pathetically. " I
fear I am imperfectly understood."
Hilda assured her to the contrary, and, summoning Jacob, he
ushered her to the door.
As soon as the fair Thomasine had departed, Hilda acquainted
her aunt with the intelligence she had received. Mrs. Clinton
was inclined to put little faith in it, but recommended that their
relation, Sir Norfolk Salusbury, should be consulted on the sub-
ject. To this, however, Hilda objected, and Jacob Post was-
summoned to the conference.
" Don't say a word about it to any one not evon to master,"
.J38 TIII; MISER'S DAUGHTER.
said the porter, on being appealed to ; " leave the affair to me,
and I'll \varrant you, Master Philip Frewin for I've no doubts
it's him "sha'n't wish to renew the attempt. Go to bed just as
usual, and think no more of the matter. You shall hear all about
it next mornin'."
"But had you not better have some assistance, Jacob?" said
Hilda. " Such attempts are always made with sufficient force
to ensure their execution."
"I want no assistance, Miss," replied Jacob "not I. Hal:
a dozen of 'em may come if they choose but they sha'n't go
back as they came, I'll promise 'em."
"I think you may rely upon Jacob, niece," observed Mrs.
Clinton.
Hilda thought so too, and it was therefore resolved that
nothing should be said to the miser on the subject, but that the
porter should keep watch in his own way.
Shortly afterwards, Mr. Scarve came home. The day passed
off as usual, and Hilda and her aunt retired to rest early a
signal of intelligence passing between them and Jacob as they
withdrew.
It so happened, on this particular night, that the miser, who
was busy with his papers and accounts, signified his intention of
sitting up late, and ordered Jacob to place another farthing
candle before him, to be lighted when the first was done. This
arrangement not suiting Jacob at all, he declined obeying the
order, hoping his master would go to bed ; but he was mistaken.
The miser continued busily employed until his candle had burnt
into the socket, when, finding Jacob had neglected to provide
him with another, he went grumblingly to the cupboard for it.
Hearing him stir, Jacob, who was on the alert, entered the room.
" Do you know it's eleven o'clock, sir ?" he said. " It's time
to go to bed."
" Go to bed yourself, you careless rascal !" rejoined the rniscr,
angrily. " I told you I was going to sit up, and ordered you to get
me another candle. But you neglect everything everything."
" No, I don't," replied Jacob, gruffly. " You're growin' waste-
ful, and it's my duty to check you. You're hurtin' your eyes by
sittin' up so late. Come, go to bed."
"What the devil's the meaning of this, rascal?" cried the
misor, sharply and suspiciously. "You've some object in view,
and want to get me out of the way. I shall sit up late perhaps
all night."
Seeing his master resolute, Jacob, after uttering a few inaudible
words, withdrew.
In another hour, he partly opened the door, and popped his
head into the room. The miser was still hard at work.
" Past twelve o'clock, and a cloudy mornin' 1" he cried, mimick-
ing the hoarse tones of a watchman.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 1 .39
" What I still up !" cried the miser. Go to bed directly."
" No, 1 sha'n't," replied Jacob, pushing the door wide open,
and striding into the room; "it's not safe to leave you* up.
Them accounts can just as well be settled to-morrow. Come,"
he added, marching to the table, and taking up the candle, " I'll
see you to bed."
" Set down the candle, rascal !" cried the miser, rising in a
fury "set it down instantly, or I'll be the death of you."
Jacob reluctantly complied, and looked hard at him, scratching
his head as he did so.
"I see you've something on your mind/ 5 cried the miser,
fiercely. " Confess at once that you intend to rob and murder
me. Confess it, and I'll forgive you."
"I've nothin' to confess," rejoined Jacob. "It's merely
regard for your welfare as keeps me up. If you'd be advised by
me, you'll go to bed but if you wont, you must take the con-
sequences."
" What consequences, sirrah?" cried the miser, angrily. " Are
you master here, or am I ?"
" You are," replied Jacob " morc's the pity. If anythin'
happens, it's not my fault. I've warned you."
" Stay, rascal !" vociferated the miser, who felt somewhat
uneasy "what do you mean? what do you apprehend?*'
"I sha'n't tell you," replied Jacob, doggedly. "I can be as
close as you. You'll know if you'll stay up long enough." So
saying, he disappeared.
The miser was seriously alarmed. Jacob's mysterious conduct
was wholly incomprehensible. He had never acted so before,
and after debating with himself what it would be best to do, Mr.
Scarve resolved to fetch his sword and remain on the watch.
Accordingly, he crept up stairs, and possessed himself of the
weapon, and as he passed the ladies' chamber, on his return, he
heard them stirring within it, while the voice of Mrs. Clinton,
issuing from the keyhole, said, " Jacob, have they been here ?'*
"Not yet," replied the miser in a whisper, which he tried to
make as like the porter's gruff voice as possible.
Fully satisfied that he had discovered a plot, but fearful of
being subjected to further interrogations, which might lead to
his discovery, if he stayed longer, the miser hurried clown stairs,
muttering as he went " Here's a pretty piece of work I That
rascal, Jacob, is at the bottom of it all. I'll discharge him to-
morrow morning. But first, to find out what it means. How
lucky I chanced to sit up I It's quite providential."
Resuming his seat at the table, he placed the sword before
him, and went on with his accounts. The door was left partially
ajar, so that, being very quick of hearing, he could detect the
slightest sound.
One o'clock, however, arrived, and the house remained undis-
1GO THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
turbed. Another half hour passed by still no one came. His
second candle had burned low, and he was calculating with him-
self whether he should light a third, or remain in the dark, when
footsteps were distinctly heard on the stairs. He snatched up
the sword and rushed to the door, where he encountered Jacob,
with his crabstick in his hand.
" Oh I I've caught you, rascal, have I?" he cried, seizing him,
and placing his sword at his throat.
" Leave go I" said Jacob, dashing him off " Don't you hear
'cm ? They've come to carry off your daughter." And snatching
the candle from him, darted up stairs.
The miser's house consisted of two stories, exclusive of the
attics. His own bed-room and that of his daughter lay on the
second floor. The attics were wholly unoccupied and filled with
old lumber, which no one but himself would have harboured.
The doors were kept constantly locked, and the windows boarded
up. But it was evident that the parties who had got into the
house had effected an entrance from the roof. Indeed, Jacob
soon after found this to be the case. On reaching the landing,
lie perceived three masked figures descending the stairs. The
foremost of them, a slightly built person, rather gaily attired and
provided with a lantern, turned to his companion and said,
" 'Pon rep ! we're discovered, and had better beat a retreat."
The person behind him, however, who was a stout built
fellow, seemed to be of a different opinion.
" No, curse it, no !" he cried, " we wont go back empty-handed.
He is but one man, and we'll carry her off in spite of him. Lead
us to Miss Scarve's chamber directly, sirrah !" he cried to Jacob,
" or we'll cut your throat."
" Oppose us not, my good fellow," said the first speaker; " we
mean you no harm, 'pon rep ! Our business is with your young
mistress. Conduct us to her chamber, and you shall have a
crown for your trouble.
" You shall have a cracked crown for yours !" cried Jacob,
bringing down his crabstick with such force, that if it had hit its
mark, it would have more than realized the threat. As it was,
a quick spring saved the party against whom it was aimed. He
let fall the lantern, and ran up stairs. The person behind him,
uttering a tremendous oath, drew his sword, and made a thrust
at Jacob, who parried it with his crabstick, and in his turn dealt
his assailant a blow on the arm that disabled him. Howling
with pain, and venting the most terrible imprecations, the fellow
turned and fled, and the third person, seeing the fate that had
attended his companions, followed their example. Darting up
stairs, they passed through an open door in the attics, scrambled
over a heap of lumber, and got through a small dormer window.
It was fortunate for the fugitives that Jacob, who was close at
their heels, got entangled in the lumber, or they might not have
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
escaped so easily. When he extricated himself, they were gone,
nor could he discover any trace of them. It appeared probable
that ihey had passed over the roof of the adjoining house, and
dropped upon some leads, whence they had gained a passage
which was concealed from view. Thinking it unnecessary to
pursue them further. Jacob fastened the window, and descended
to the lower part of the house, where he found the miser, together
with Hilda and her aunt.
" Well, have you secured them ?" cried Mr. Scarve. " Hilda
has told me what it all means."
" No," replied Jacob, " but I have fairly routed them."
" Who was the leader?" cried the miser " Randulph Crew?"
'" More likely your nephew," returned Jacob. " But I can't
swear to any one. There was three of 'em, and they was all
masked."
" I owe you a thousand thanks for my preservation, Jacob,"
said Hilda.
" You may now rest in safety," replied Jacob. "I've fastened
the window, and I warrant me they wont make a second attempt."
Repeating her thanks, Hilda then retired with her aunt.
" Have you no idea who it was ?" said the miser.
" Not the least," returned the other ; " and I'm only sorry I
couldn't identify Mr. Philip Frewin."
The miser made no reply, and whatever his suspicions might
be, he kept them to himself. The attempt, however, alarmed
him on another account. If his house, which he had consideied
securely barricaded, could be so easily entered, other equally
lawless characters, and whose aim might be plunder, could obtain
admission. He had large sums with him, for with the true
avaricious spirit, he loved to see and to handle his gold, and
not even the loss of interest could induce him to part with it.
Resolving to hide his treasure where it could not be discovered,
on the following night, when he concluded all were at rest, he
crept stealthily down stairs with two heavy money-bags on his
back. With some effort, for the lock was very rusty, he opened
the door of an old disused wine cellar. There was nothing in it
but an empty barrel, which lay in one corner.
Having looked anxiously round, to see that he was not watched,
he laid down the bags and crept up stairs for two more. These
were heavier than the first, and he laid them down with as little
noise as possible. He had to go back a third time, and returned
equally laden. He then repaired to a small coal-hole adjoining,
where was deposited a scanty supply of fuel which, scanty as it
was, he intended should last for many months to come and pro-
vided himself with a shovel and an old broom. A fourth ascent
supplied him with a box, in which he placed the bags, and he then
commenced operations upon the floor of the cellar.
With great difficulty for he worked with the utmost caution
M
1G2 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
he got out a few bricks, and then his task became easier. Having
made a hole sufficiently deep to hold the box, he deposited it within
it, and covering it over with earth, restored the bricks, as well as
he could, to their places jumping upon them, and pressing them
down with his feet. Lastly, he swept all the loose earth together,
and tossed it into the empty barrel.
More than an hour was thus employed ; and when all was over,
he leaned against the wall in a complete state of exhaustion.
While thus resting himself, his eye wandered to the door, which
was slightly ajar, and he thought he perceived some one behind it.
Instantly darting towards it, he threw it wide open, and beheld
Jacob.
" Villain!" he shrieked, raising his shovel " I'll murder you I"
" No you wont," replied Jacob, dauntlessly.
" What have you seen, rascal ?" cried the miser, trembling with
fury. " Tell me what you've seen ! speak 1"
" Put down the shovel, and then 1 will, but not othenme,"
answered Jacob. " Well, then," he added, as the request was
complied with, " I've seen you bury a box."
" You have ?" screamed the miser. " And you know what it
contains ?"
" I can guess," replied Jacob. " Some one always sees these
things ; and it is well for you, and those to come after you, that
you were seen by an honest man like me."
" An honest man I" cried the miser, ironically. " Such a one
would be asleep in his bed at this hour, and not prying into his
master's affairs."
" And what should his master be doing, eh ?" retorted Jacob.
" Shouldn't he be in bed, too, instead o' creepin' about his house
as if he was doin' some guilty deed, and afraid o' being detected ?
Which is worse, him as buries money, or him as looks on while
it's buried? I tell you what it is, sir in my opinion, he who
acts so deserves to be robbed. Nay, I'm not goin* to rob you.
Don't be afraid! But, I repeat, you deserve to be robbed. What
was money made for? not to be buried there. Spend it, and
give yourself comfort. You haven't many years to live ; and
then you may be put where you've put your gold. But I preach
to a deaf ear."
While Jacob was speaking, the miser remained leaning on the
shovel, as if considering what he should do. At length, he
groaned our * e Well, you've baffled my design, Jacob, Dig up
the chest."
"No I wont," was the surly reply.
"You wont?"
" No," replied Jacob, " I'll not be art or part in anythin' of the
sort. He as hides may find. Since you've buried the treasure,
e'en let it rest. The secret's safe with me."
" Will you swear it ?" cried the miser, eagerly.
KtT?
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 163
" I will, if that'll content you," replied Jacob
" I'll trust you, then," rejoined Scarve.
" Only because you can't help yourself," muttered Jacob.
The miser took no notice of the remark, but, quitting the cellar,
locked the door, and fastened the padlock outside.
" You'll never enter this place without my leave, Jacob," he
cried " nor betray my secret ?"
" Fve sworn it !" replied the porter, gruffly. And he turned
off into his own room, while the miser went up stairs with a heavy
heart.
Some days after this occurrence, Sir Norfolk Salusbury called
upon Hilda. The Welsh baronet was rather a favourite with the
miser, for though they had few qualities in common, yet Sir
Norfolk's peculiar character suited him. He never asked a favour
never wanted to borrow money never required any refresh-
ment. All these circumstances recommended him to the miser's
good opinion. With Hilda he was a still greater favourite. She
liked his stately, old-fashioned manner; and though she could
have dispensed with some of his formality, she preferred it to
the familiarity of the few persons of quality whom she had
encountered.
On the present occasion, after much circumlocution, Sir Norfolk
informed the miser that there was to be a masquerade or, as he
termed it, " a grand assemblage of personated characters in masks"'
in a few days, at Ranelagh, and he begged to be permitted to
take his daughter to it.
" It is a useless expense," muttered the miser.
" I confess I should like to go very much," said Hilda. " I
have never seen a masquerade; and I am told those at Ranelagh
arc magnificent."
" This will be unusually magnificent," replied Sir Norfolk; "and
as you have expressed a wish on the subject, I will procure you a
masquerading habit, and a ticket, if your father will allow you
to go."
" In that case, I sec no objection," said the miser, " provided I
am not obliged to accompany her. I abominate such fooleries."
"I will gladly undertake thccuration of her," said Sir Norfolk.
" And you are the only man I would trust her with, Sir
Norfolk," rejoined Scarve. " I know you will take as much care
of her as I could take myself."
Sir Norfolk acknowledged the compliment by a stately bow.
And it was then arranged to Hilda's great satisfaction, that a court
dressmaker should wait upon her on the following day, to prepare
her a dress for the masquerade. All were pleased with the
arrangement; and the miser was in high glee that he had
obliged his daughter without putting himself to trouble or
expense; while Sir Norfolk was equally gratified in b^ing able
to afford pleasure to his fair cousin.
M 2
164 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
CHAPTER VIL
THE PROGRESS OP MR. CRIPPS'S LOVE AFFAIR MR. RATHBONE APPEARS ON Till
SCENE STRATAGEM OF THE VALET MR. JUKES VISITS THE WIDOW.
MR. CRIPPS still continued unremitting in his attentions to Mrs.
Nettleship, and had made such progress in her affections, that
on Mr. Rathbone's return from the country an event which
occurred about ten days after the memorable visit to Marylebone
Gardens she told him she feared she could not fulfil her engage-
ment with him, and besought him to allow her to break it off.
But Mr. Rathbone declared he would do no such thing, and
reminded her of a trifling penalty of three thousand pounds
which was attached to the violation of the marriage contract on
her part. He then upbraided her warmly with inconstancy;
recalled to her recollection the professions of regard she had
once expressed for him; and concluded by vowing to be the
death of his rival. Mrs. Nettleship bore his reproaches with the
utmost composure ; but on hearing his final threat she uttered a
faint scream, and sank overcome by emotion into a chair. Mr.
Rathbone offered no assistance; but clapping his hat fiercely on
his head, and flourishing his stick in a menacing manner, hurried
out of the room.
"Oh, la!" exclaimed Mrs. Nettleship, getting up as soon as
he was gone, " there will be a duel a sanguinary duel and I
shall have caused it, wretched woman that I am !"
But no duel ensued perhaps to the widow's disappointment.
On being made acquainted with the precise terms of the contract,
-of which he had hitherto been kept in ignorance, Mr. Cripps
looked very grave, and advised her on no account to come to a
decided rupture with Mr. Rathbone.
(f But the three thousand pounds can make no difference to
you, Mr. Willars," said Mrs. Nettleship "better pay it, and
have done with him."
" On no account, rny angel," replied her admirer. " We must
manage to outwit him and obtain his consent."
And strange to say, the cunning valet did contrive, not only
not to quarrel with his rival, but even to make a friend of him.
Foreseeing that Mr. Rathbone would infallibly find out who he
was, and expose him, he determined to be beforehand with him,
and he therefore told the widow that he had concocted a scheme,
by which he was certain of outwitting her affianced suitor ; but
it was necessary to its success that he should assume the part of
his own valet, whose name was Crackenthorpe Cripps.
"I don't like the idea of your being taken for a walet at all,
Mr. Willars," said Mrs. Nettleship " and I can't see what pur-
pose it 'li answer."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 165
'It is indispensable to my scheme, my angel," replied Mr.
Cripps. " You know these things are always so managed in the
comedies, and they are the best models one can follow. On the
stage, you constantly find masters putting on their servants'
clothes, and vice versa. And only think, if we can trick Rath-
bone out of the three thousand."
" Ah, that would be something, certainly," said Mrs. Nettle-
ship. " I must have been a fool to enter into such an engage-
ment. But at that time I thought I loved him."
" You must indeed have been wanting in your usual judgment,
sweetheart," replied Mr. Cripps ; " but you hadn't seen me.
The only course now left is to out-manoeuvre the insensible dolt.
The idea of personating my valet was suggested to me by the
address of the drunken old fellow we met in Marylebone
Gardens."
" I recollect," replied Mrs. Nettleship. " He called you his
nephew said your name was Cripps, and that } 7 ou were Mr.
Willars's walet. I remember it as well as if it had happened
yesterday."
" Disagreeable occurrences always dwell in one's remembrance
longer than pleasant ones," rejoined the valet, forcing a laugh.
" You must introduce me to Mr. Rathbone as Mr. Cripps.
Leave him to find out the rest."
The device worked exactly as its contriver desired and antici-
pated. Mr. Rathbone was astounded when he learnt that his
rival was a valet ; and he was so staggered by Mr. Cripps's dress,
assurance, and deportment, that he was firmly convinced he
was a gentleman in disguise. The inquiries he made only added
to his perplexity. He ascertained that Beau Villiers had a valet
named Cripps ; but the description given of him did not tally
with the appearance of Mrs. Nettleship's lover, and at last he
became satisfied that the interloper was the master, and not the
man.
" I tell you what, Mrs. Nettleship," he said, one day, " this
gay admirer of yours isn't what he pretends to be."
" Indeed, Mr. Rathbone !" exclaimed the widow, smiling.
" What is he, then ?"
"A great rake and coxcomb," replied the other, angrily.
" He's his own master. No, I don't mean that exactly he's
himself disguised as his walet that's it."
" What do you mean, Mr. Rathbone ?" simpered the widow.
" I declare I don't understand you."
"Why, I mean that this walet this Mr. Cripps, as you
suppose him, is no walet at all," replied Rathbone. " He's Mr.
Willars, the great beau."
" Oh, you're entirely mistaken, Mr. Rathbone," said the
widow, smiling.
'I hope he means honourably by you, that's all," sneered
166 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Ralhbone. "Ah! here he comes," he added, as Mr. Cripps
entered the room. " Your most obedient, Mr. Willars."
t( My name is Cripps, sir, Crackenthorpe Cripps, at your
service," replied the valet, with a smirk of satisfaction.
" Poh ! poh I nonsense ! don't crack-jaw me," cried Rathbone,
"I know better. You can't impose on me, sir. I know a
gentleman from a walet when I see him."
" Your opinion is too flattering, sir, to allow me to be angry at
it," replied Mr. Cripps, bowing profoundly.
" There I that bow alone would convict you," cried Rath-
bone, " whoever saw a walet make his honours in that style ?"
" Do me the favour to try my snush," said Mr. Cripps, taking
out the beau's handsomest box, which he had borrowed for the
occasion.
"Further proof!" exclaimed Rathbone; "look at that snuff-
box set with brilliants ! those rings on his fingers ! Very like
a walet, indeed."
" You shall have it all your own way, sir," said Mr. Cripps,
again bowing; "but there's an old gentleman outside, who will
tell you you are mistaken."
" An accomplice, I'll be sworn," cried Rathbone. " But I
should like to see him." And proceeding to the passage, he
returned the next moment with Mr. Jukes, while Mr. Cripps,
seating himself, winked significantly at the widow. On entering
the room, the old butler glanced round it curiously.
" Well, sir, you look like a servant, at all events," cried
Mr. Rathbone. (< Pray, who is the individual before us? who
is he?"
" I'm sorry to betray him, because he's my own kinsman,"
replied Mr. Jukes; "but I cannot suffer him to impose on a
respectable lady."
" Who do you say he is ?" demanded Rathbone.
" I repeat, I'm sorry to expose him," replied Mr. Jukes ; " but
the truth must be told. He's my nephew, Crackenthorpe Cripps,
chief valet to Mr. Villiers."
" There, sir, I told you my statement would be corroborated,"
said Mr. Cripps, with a side-glance at the widow.
" Why, does he own that his name is Cripps?" said the butler,
in astonishment.
" He would make us believe so," replied Rathbone ; " but we
know, as yourself, you old deceiver, that it's Willars."
The butler looked thoroughly mystified.
"Ton rep! this is vastly amusing," said Mr. Cripps, helping
himself to a pinch of snuff, and clearing his point-laced cravat
from the dust.
" And so you, ma'am, are aware of the real name of this
youn<j; man?" said Mr. Jukes, turning to the widow.
"Perfectly aware of it," she replied, significantly.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" And so am L" added Rathbone, coughing drily. We're
all aware of it all."
"Then I've nothing further to say," returned Mr. Jukes.
" Whatever construction may be put "upon my visit, Craeken-
thorpe, I only came here to serve you."
"No doubt, my good man, no doubt," replied Rathbone.
"But don't imagine you've deceived me."
" So thai; I've convinced the lady, I'm perfectly satisfied," said
Mr. Jukes, taking his leave.
"Very well contrived, Mr. Willars exceedingly well, sir,**
said Rathbone ; " but it wont do. I saw at once he was one of
your people."
"You are a man of great discernment, truly," replied Mr.
Cripps. "Pray take a pinch of snush before you go."
"Tin afraid you spend your wages in snush, sir," laughed
Rathbone. And plunging his fingers into the box, he quitted
the room, chuckling to himself.
" Capitally done, 'pon rep P cried Mr. Cripps. ' The old
fellow couldn't have played his part better."
"And was he really engaged to do it?" said Mrs. Nettleship.
"Well, I declare he quite took me in. But you see Mr. Rath-
bone is too good a judge to be imposed upon. He knows the
true gentleman when he sees him."
" All is going exactly as I could wish it, my angel," replied
Mr. Cripps. " Before a month has passed, I'll make him give
up the contract."
" Heigho I" exclaimed the widow, " I wish the month was
over."
Mr. Cripps had thus completely accomplished his purpose.
His rival had made up his mind that he was Mr. Villiers; and
he was one of those obstinate persons who always persist in an
error, even against the evidence of their senses. The valet took
care to humour the idea. While persisting in giving his real
name, and representing himself in his true character, Mr. Cripps
demeaned himself in such sort as to leave no doubt in the mind
of the sagacious tallow-chandler that his actual rank and position
were widely different. Nothing, however, surprised the valet
more than the kindly manner in which his rival behaved to him.
So far was this carried, that he began to suspect some treachery
might be intended against himself, and resolved to be on his
guard.
But whatever secret opinions the rivals might entertain of each
other, ostensibly they were excellent friends, and constantly went
to places of amusement together. When the masquerade at
Ranelagh was announced, Mrs. Nettleship instantly signified
her intention of attending it, and Mr. Cripps, emboldened by
his former good luck, unhesitatingly undertook to escort her.
Mr. Rathbone, of course, was included in the party, and he not
168 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
only begged to be permitted lo pay for the tickets, but to give
them a supper on the occasion. With apparent reluctance, Mr.
Cripps assented to the proposal; and they then arranged the
characters they should represent The valet, being an excellent
dancer, thought he should appear to advantage as harlequin;
and as Mrs. Nettleship, notwithstanding her bulk, still boasted
considerable agility, she readily undertook to play columbine.
The part of the hump-backed lover was offered to Mr. llathbone,
and accepted by him.
There were yet two other persons whom the irresistible mas-
querade threatened to draw into its vortex. These were the fair
Thomasine and Peter Pokerich. For more than two years the
mercer's daughter had been dying to see a masquerade; and the
moment she heard of the grand entertainment in question, she
attacked her lather on the subject, and never allowed him to
rest till he promised to let her go. Peter Pokerich required no
solicitation to induce him to accompany her, being as eager as
herself for the spectacle. Mr. Cripps had imparted to him his
design, and it was arranged that they should all go together.
Only one difficulty existed, namely, that the fair Thomasine
had selected the same character as the widow. But this objection
was got over by Mr. Cripps, who declared he could do very well
with two columbines. The little barber himself would have pre-
ferred playing harlequin, but as Mr. Cripps had appropriated the
part, he was obliged to be content with that of clown.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE MASQUERADE AT RANELAGH, WITH THE VARIOUS INCIDENTS THAT
OCCURRED AT IT.
AT length the day so much wished for by the principal person-
ages in this history, and by many hundreds besides, arrived. It
was the second Thursday in July, and a more joyous and aus-
picious day never ushered in a festival. This was the more
fortunate, because the early part of the entertainment was to take
place out of doors. The fete commenced at two o'clock; but long
before that hour, the road to Chelsea was crowded with coaches,
chariots, chairs, and vehicles of every description. The river,
too, was thronged with boats, freighted with masquers, and pre-
sented a most lively appearance from the multitudes of spectators
drawn forth by the fineness of the day, and the gaiety of the
scene, which vied in splendour with a Venetian carnival.
Having decided upon going by water, Mr. Cripps and his
party left Billiter-square about one o'clock, and embarked in a
tilt-boat, rowed by a couple of watermen, at Old Swan Stairs,
near London Bridge. They were all, of course, in their mas-
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
querade attire, Mr. Cripps being arrayed in the parti-coloured
garb of the hero of pantomime, which differed only in some
immaterial points, such as the looseness of the pantaloons at the
ankle, and the amplitude of the shirt 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 (whom,by-the-by,
his figure greatly resembled), a well-stuffed paunch, a large pro-
tuberance behind, shoes with immense roses in them, a tall
sugar-loaf hat, and a mask, with a great hooked nose and chin.
He carried, moreover, a stout knobbed stick. As to the lady,,
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 shoes,.
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.
Their passage along the river was delightful, Mr. Cripps bein
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 diam )nd 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.s-
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 Pokcrich 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 other
merrily.
170 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
They found the road from town completely stopped up by a
iine of carriages, while the throng of spectators on foot rendered
it difficult to get on. The familiarities of the crowd were almost
^insupportable. 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-
ship was struck by the magnificence of the equipage, and recalling
the features of the beau, who was wrapped in a sky-blue domino,
and wore a Spanish hat and feathers, but kept his mask in his
hand, said, " Why, that's the h'ne 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 firt>t cousin of mine, and we're considered very
much alike."
By the side of Mr. Villiers sat Sir Singleton Spinke. 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 Thomasinehad not attracted the old coxcomb's
.attention, and caused him to thrust his head out of the window to
look at her. Sir Singleton, as favouring his turn for gallantry,
had chosen the part of Pierrot, and was habited in the peculiar
vestment of white calico, with long, loose sleeves, as well as the
(broad-leaved, high-crowned hat proper to the character.
Lady Braba/on's carriage immediately preceded that of the
Ijeau, 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 appear in character, but was
.attired in a 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 diamonds, and ornamented with a plume
of white feathers, and really looked very beautiful. Lady Bra-
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 he was accompanied by a Chinese Mandarin, in a loose gown
oHight silk, girt at the middle with a silken belt, and having a
conical cap, topped by a gilded ball, on his head. This person.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
notwithstanding the disguise of along twisted beard, Mr. Cripps
knew to be Cordwcll 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 meao-re-
looking, superannuated horses. But, notwithstanding its *un-
promising appearance, the occupants of this carriage attracted
especial attention from the beholders, and many and loud were
the exclamations of admiration uttered by them.
" 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 her, 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 w r igs, is vanished, numbered with the things
that were ! 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 attempted. 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 quality, crowds flocked in their
train. Shortly after its opening, 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,
being declared bankrupt in 1744. The property was then
divided into thirty shares, and so continued until Ranelagh was
closed. The earliest entertainments of Ranelagh were morning
concerts, consisting chiefly of oratorios, produced under the
direction of Michael Testing, 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 by 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'ccil of
the interior of this structure was extraordinarily striking, and
impressed all who beheld it for the first time with surprise. It
was circular in form, and exactly 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
gallery, 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 separated by trimly-clipped hedges. The gardens
were exquisitely arranged with groves, bowers, statues, temples,
wildernesses, 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 Randulph'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 were joined
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 presented 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; still, 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 chasing each ^.her round it, while lively strains
were played by a band of musicians beside them. Otter and
less meloclious "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 the vile scrapin gof 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 lawyer 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 frolic 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 behind
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 his ardour, and a gesture
irom the coquettish columbine, who seemed determined riot to
lose him, drew him after her, as she tripped along the ri<rht-hand
alley near the canal with the rest of her gamesome party.
Randulph would willingly have disengaged himself from Lady
Brabazon, but he could not do so without positive rudeness;
and what made it worse was, that he was now left alone with
her, for the rest of the party had disappeared, and he could not
help fearing Beau Villiers might have discovered Hilda, and
have <i;one in pursuit of her.
"Come, Randulph," said her ladyship, rallying him; "you
seem to have lost your spirits 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 champajme
ill* n to
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 c:mal. 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. Cripps and his two columbines, who frolicked along the
alicy 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 wonderfully, that it was generally
supposed he was Mr. Y ates, 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-
witching, 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 n 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, but 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 the 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 beau on
.the shoulder, twirled round his head, and performed a hundred
other pantomime antics, to the infinite diversion of the beholders.
When arrived near the extremity of the walk, he called out to
the musicians in the Chinese temple to strike up the tune, " Hev,
boys, up we go !" and immediately commenced a lively dance to
it with his two columbines, in which they were presently joined
by Rathbone, Sir Sinsrleton, and the barber.
Having crossed the bridge leading to the Chinese temple,
Lady Brabazon stopped, and setting Randolph 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 communicate.
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
^way 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.
Randolph, 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, andbeheld
-Hilda seated at one end of the temple. Behind her stood Sir
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 1*7
Norfolk Salisbury, while Sir Bulkeley Price was handing her a
glass of champagne. But 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 Bulkcley'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 hank, and leaping
out, was about to follow her, when he was arrested by a heavy
hand laid on his arm, and looking up, beheld Cordwell Firebras.
" You are on a vain quest, 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 !
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 off to him as
some one else."
" And you attach no condition to the obligation ?" cried Ran-
dulph " 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
prevent 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,
perhaps, 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 bridge, occasioned by the approach of the Prince
and Princess of Wales, attended by a large retinue. The royal
narty entered the temple, and remained there more than half an
liour conversing with those around them. Randulph had the
honour of a presentation to the prince, by Mr. Villiers; an<*
M
173 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
while engaged in conversation with that illustrious personage, he
perceived Cordvvell Firebras among the by-standers; but he
could not, without a breach of etiquette, withdraw to speak to
him, and when the royal 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 the lady. The performances of Mr. Cripps's party diverted
ooth 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 opened. 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 separated from her party.
The 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
(kmix CrrrJCgfumJ 1 !-.
The Supper at Van
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 179
when the first signal-rocket ascended, he perceived her pretty
face turned upwards at a little 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
fast.
* e Oh dear, how glad I am to see you," said the naughty
little Thomasine, for " fair" she does not deserve to be called;
*" we've been looking for you everywhere" (here she told a sad
story). " 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 engaged, and engagements with me are sacred
tilings," replied the fair Thomasine, theatrically, yet tenderly.
" But do look at that beautiful wheel."
The fireworks were really splendid. Flights of rockets soared
into the skies; magnificent wheels performed their mutations;
8tar-pieO68 poured forth their radiant glories; maroon batteries
resounded ; Chinese fountains filled the air with glittering
>ho\vcT.s ; pots des aigrettes, pots des brins, and pots des saucis-
i-ons, discharged their stars, serpents, and crackers; yew trees
burnt with brilliant fire ; water-rockets turned the canal to flame;
lire balloons ascended; and a grand car with flaming wheels,
drawn by sea-horses snorting fire, and containing a figure of
Neptune, which traversed the whole length of the canal, and
encircled the Chinese temple the bridge being removed to
make way for it and finally exploded, scattering serpents and
crackers in every direction, concluded the exhibition, amid the
general plaudits of the assemblage.
Darkness fora few minutes enveloped the crowd, during which
a fc\v cries were heard in timid female tones; but the lamps were
as soon as possible lighted, and the majority of the assemblage
returned to the rotunda, where they repaired to the alcoves, and
many a bowl of punch was emptied, many a bottle of champagne
quaffed; after which dancing was resumed with greater spirit
than ever.
Mr. Rathbone gave a capital supper. to his party, in which
the old beau contrived to get himself included. He contrived
also to sit near the fair Thomasine, and pledged her so often and
so deeply, that he fell beneath the table. Here he was left by
the others, and a minuet being struck up, Mr. Cripps offered his
hand to the widow, and led her forth to dance : while Mr. Rath-
bone, greatly exhilarated by the punch he had drunk, stood by,
laughing at them ready to split his sides; and the little barber
v 2
180 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
took the opportunity of their being left alone together, to reprove
the fair Thomasine for her improper conduct towards the old
beau during supper.
Liberated by the departure of the Prince of Wales, who quitted
the gardens on the conclusion of the fireworks, Randolph imme-
diately returned to the rotunda, in the hope of finding Hilda still
there. He had scarcely entered it when he perceived Firebras
at supper by himself in one of the alcoves, and instantly joined
him.
" She is still here," said Firebras, " and as soon as I have
finished my supper I will take you to her. There would be no
use in going now, for Sir Norfolk has only just ordered supper,
and I can merely introduce you as a partner for a dance. Sit
down, and take a glass of champagne."
Randulph declined the latter offer, and was obliged to control
his impatience until Firebras thought fit to rise. Crossing the
amphitheatre, they proceeded to an alcove, in which Sir Norfolk
and Hilda were seated, and Firebras, bowing to the old knight,
said, " Sir Norfolk, permit me to have the honour of presenting
the friend I mentioned some hours ago to your fair charge. Miss
Scarve." he added, after a significant look at Hilda, " this gentle-
man wishes to have the honour of dancing a minuet with you.
I am sorry there is no time for a more ceremonious introduc-
tion to yourself, Sir Norfolk, but the musicians are striking up
the dance."
Upon this Hilda arose, and tendered her hand, with some
trepidation, to Randulph, who, with a breast thrilling with joyful
emotion, led her into the open space cleared for the dancers,
and part of which was already occupied, as before related, by
Mr. Cripps and the widow. No time was allowed Randulph to
hazard a word to his partner. Scarcely were they placed when
the minuet commenced. The grace with which they performed
this charming, though formal dance, excited the admiration of
all the beholders, and contrasted strongly with the exaggerated
style in which it was executed by Mr. Cripps and Mrs. Nettle-
ship. Indeed, a better foil had such been desired could not
have been found than the two latter personages presented.
Sir Norfolk planted himself on one side to view the dance,
and there was unwonted elation in his countenance as he wit-
nessed the graceful movements of his fair cousin and her partner.
Trussell in his Turkish dress was among the spectators; and not
far from him stood Cordwell Firebras. There were two other
personages, also, who watched the dance, but who regarded it
with any other sentiments than those of satisfaction. These were
Lady Brabazon and Beau Villiers.
" So you see, Villiers, notwithstanding all your scheming, he
has contrived to dance with her," said the former.
" He has," replied the beau, partly removing his mask, and
displaying a countenance inflamed with passion " but he has
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 181
not exchanged a word with her, and I will take care he shall not
exchange one."
" You are desperately in love with this girl, Villiers," said
Lady Brabazon, angrily. " I thought it was her fortune merely
you aimed at."
" I have been foiled, and that has piqued me," replied Villiers.
" Le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle" rejoined Lady Brabazon.
" After the failure of your attempt to carry her off, I wonder you
will persevere."
" Hush 1" 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 rne for
the trouble I am 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
<lid he awake till they reached Lambeth Stairs.
Another boat had just landed, and two persons in dominos
inarched before them in the very direction they were going.
" Why, who the deuce have we here ?" cried Trussell, running
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 RANDULPH TRUSSELL AND RANDCLPH
GO TO DRURr LANE.
ABOUT a week after this, as Randulph was dressing himself one
morning, Mr. 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 " lie
seems very anxious to see you, so I brought 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. te My
uncle shall know nothing about the matter from me. But let
Jacob come in."
The 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."
"No, 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,
f( I must premise that I'm come on my own accord, and at nobody
else's request whatsomdever, least of all by desire of Miss
Hilda"
"I'm perfectly satisfied of it, Jacob," interrupted Randulph
"perfectly."
" 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 riot
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 from 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', my 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 design 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."
*' What do you suspect, Jacob ?" asked Randulph.
t( 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 young missis ?"
" No !" replied Randulph "but you si^ely don't suspect Mr.
Villiersofit?"
"It 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 villanv
i i ^ / A / /
\vith his life.
" 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
poin' to-night. You can watch what's done, and act accordingly.
I'll 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 fail 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. Woffington ; and the critics tell me that the new
opera the Temple of Dulness is to be delightful."
184 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" No wonder critics say so," observed Abel, with a sneer ; " the
title alone would make it attractive to them."
" Bravo !" exclaimed Trussell. " By-the-by," he added aside
to Randulph, " vour friend Kitty Conway sings at Vauxhall to-
night"
" Indeed !" exclaimed Randulph.
" 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 morning by accident. We'll go to Vauxhall if
you prefer it to Drury Lane, Randulph."
" No, don't alter your arrangements !" cried Randulph, hastily.
" Sir Singleton Spinke will be there, I'll be sworn," laughed
Trussell " though he's got a new flame ; the daughter of a
mercer named Deacle, who lives in the Little Sanctuary, 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 Ranelagll 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. Cripps,
cut off his long queue, and sent it the next morning in a packet
to the fair Thomasine, accompanied by 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 Mr. 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 comments upon your dissipated course of life of
late, because I felt it would be thrown away; but it must now be
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
lias better title to admonish you than I have." ,
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 1S5
"Your words would seem to refer to my mother, sir," said
Randnlph, 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 bad 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 ore
her arrival. I must counsel you how to act at this juncture.
She'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 Somerset Stairs, where they landed,
and proceeded to Drury Lane Theatre. Randulph had resolved
upon what course to pursue. The play was admirably per-
formed ; but even the inimitable acting of Garrick and Macklin
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 Vauxhall.
CHAPTER X.
THE SUPPER AT VAUXHALL BEAU VILLIERS* ATTEMPT TO CARRY OFF HILDA
DEFEATED BY RANDULPH.
CELEBRATE*} 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-like
roof, supported by four handsome Ionic columns, embellished with
foliage at the base, while the shafts were wreathed 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 gardens
"vas through a Gothic portal. Moreover, there were pavilions or
-ilcoves, ornamented with paintings, from designs by Hogarth
and Hayman, appropriate to the place; each alcove having a
table 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
shed their radiance on the fairy scene around. This was the
grand charm of Vauxhall. One of its minor attractions was a
curious piece of machinery 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 this
history, was a statue of Handel as Orpheus holding a lyre.
It was nearly ten o'clock when Randulph 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, preparing 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.
Mr. Willars is the contriver of the plot. He means to carry off
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 detected the scheme."
" But where is your mistress ?" cried Randulph.
" There," replied Jacob, pointing to a party seated at supper
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
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;?' replied Jacob. " I'll manage
to get near 'em unobserved. Come back to this place when
they separate, and you shall know all."
So saying, he slouched his hat over his eyes, and mingling
with the crowd, got within ear-shot of the beau, who, as has
been intimated, was addressing Captain Culpepper and Mr.
Cripps.
Randulph, meanwhile, felt irresistibly drawn towards the
table where Hilda was seated, and as he kept behind the trees,
he was not noticed by the party, though he was noticed by Kitty
Con way, 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 Salusbury;
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
-could 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 by Kitty Conway or Lady Brabazon.
Both had felt a similar pang of jealousy, but revenge instantly
occurred to the latter. While 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-
corum, 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 Randulph. " But this is not the place for
menaces. You will do well to look after your charge."
188 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" I shall take care to keep off impertinents like you," replied
Sir Norfolk.
" Better guard her against other dangers which 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 quarrel
go no further. I have been the innocent cause of it. Promise me
it shall not."
"I would willingly obey you in anything, Miss Scarvc."
replied Randulph ; " but in this case it is not in my power.
Farewell P
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 him, but
instantly recovered himself, and would have addressed him, but
Rand ill ph 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 occurred. Villiers laughed
heartily at the recital.
" I hope 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 mid 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 the
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. !
expressed a desire to view the scenic representation of the mill and
water- fall before mentioned, which was exhibited in a hollow of
the great walk ; and they^ proceeded towards it. Hilda was much
displeased by the assiduities of her companion, and she could
not help remarking that he contrived, on various pretences, to
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 you that she and the
party 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,.
I'll 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 interlaced,
that 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 accompanying 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 coul<i
distinguish a figure walking near them, but she did not dare to
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 me."
190 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
She would have screamed for help, if Villiers, who grasped her
more tightly, had not taken out his handkerchief, and, placing it
over her mouth, prevented her cries. While this was passing,
Captain Culpepper emerged from the trees, and hastened with
Mr. Cripps towards him.
" Bravo, sir," cried the Captain. " All goes well this time t
We'll have her in the coach in a twinkling."
* f Not so fast, villains!" thundered Randulph, rushing forward.
<f 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 person 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 was 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 anxiety was more than repaid by the unutterable
joy of the moment.
" Hilda !" he cried, passionately, f( 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 Randulph, 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 shaVt disobey
you. He doesn't deserve to be treated like a genTman."
" Oblige me by stepping aside fora moment, Mr. Crew!" said
the beau, with forced politeness. 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 ara too
THE 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
Tothill 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 together, Jacob follow-
ing close beside them. Hilda allowed her hand to remain in his,
while he poured the warmest protestalions of attachment into her
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 had 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 1 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.
te 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 Tothill
Fields," replied Randulph, in a low tone, " after I have arranged
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.
102 im: MISER'S DAUGHTER.
CHAPTER XI.
KANDULPH WORSTS BEAU VILLIERS IN A DUEL IN TOTHILL FIELDS; AND IS
NORSTED HIMSELF IN A SECOND DUEL BY SIR NORFOLK SALUSBURY.
ON quitting Vauxhall, Randulph made the best of his way
nome, agitated by a crowd of tumultuous 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 his
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 Covent Garden. He then hurried to Tom's Coffee-house,
where 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, that I might have taken one of the
latter off your hands. It'll be a mortal conflict with the beau.
I'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 plan will be to go to Hewitt,
and tell him to be in the field with swords and a surgeon at the
appointed hour."
Emptying the rummer of punch before him, he called to the
drawer, paid him, and, taking his nephew'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,
f.nd explaining their business, he entered upon it immediately.
" 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 7 , 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 being 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 you. 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."
Randulph 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 turne^ over the events of the day. Amid a multitude
of dark and disagreeable thoughts, there was one that was bright
and 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.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Randolph," he said, eyeing his nephew severely "you are
going 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 I" echoed Abel " then he is doubly foolish
doubly culpable. Randulph, you are about to commit a very
sinful, and very foolish action, arid though you may be justified
in what you do by the laws of honour, and the usages of society,
you will not be justified before Heaven."
"Really, my dear sir," said Trussell, "yon 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, te I cannot now argue with you ; but
I have good reasons for what I am about to 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 Trussell, handing him the letter. " Time
presses. We must be gone. We hope to be back again with
you at breakfast, and to make a hearty 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 fresh 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 bank, near which they
found Mr. Hewitt, with two brace of swords under his arm, in
The Duel in Toth i II i
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 195
addition to the one by his side, accompanied by a tall, stout man,
with a red face, dressed in a well-powdered wig, and a suit of
purple velvet, and carrying a gold-headed cane, who was intro-
duced as Mr. Molson, the surgeon.
" You look famously," said the fencing-master to Randulph.
" Follow my instructions, and you're sure to come off victo-
riously."
The party then walked along the Horseferry-road, which
speedily brought them to Tothill-fields. They were the first on
the ground, and Mr. Hewitt, after looking about for a short time,
discovered a spot excellently adapted for the encounters.
By 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.
Randolph's reflections 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 you, Sir Norfolk," replied Ran-
dulph : " but 1 must 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 hundred yards of
the party, they stopped, and from the rirsi issued Mr. Villiers, ,
and from the other Sir Bulkcley Price. Mr. Cripps walked by
the side of his master's chair, bearing a water-bottle and a glass.
The new-comers 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 wait 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 MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Hewitt then stepped up to him, and gave him the German sword
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 spectator 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
man 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 steady 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
i his state presented so extraordinary an appearance, that Ran-
dulph could scarcely repress a smile. The punctilious old
knight'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,
they 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-
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 197
dulph soon found that he had a formidable antagonist 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
point entered his side below the elbow, and inflicted a severe
wound.
Maddened by the pain, Randulph continued to fight despe-
rately, 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.
ENT> OF THE SECOND POOK,
BOOK THE THIRD.
ABEL BEECH CROFT.
CHAPTER I.
WHAT BECAME OP BANDULPH 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 Randulph, after his fall, by
the surgeon. Placed in Sir Bulkeley Price's chair, he was re-
moved to the nearest tavern in the Horsefcrry-road, where his
wound was dressed. Sir Norfolk Salusbury, 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 Salusbury?" asked Randulph, in a faint
voice.
" 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 ; u 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 purchased 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 doin^ 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 like an automaton worked by rusty 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
in 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
claret 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 tankard 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 vitae in small glasses was then handed round, and partaken
of by all except the host. After this, the party broke up, Trusseli
setting 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 him 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 you 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 engaged with him," replied the old bachelor; " but
he has met with due chastisement from Mr. Crew."
" 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, h
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 others 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. Recollect whom you are addressing."
" I ought to have recollected your blind and 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 I" 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."
" Stay, 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 pass," 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 you and Randulph Crew,
last night. You say he has risked his life on my account, and has
punished 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 deatlu.
" 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. " Randulph is
safe, is he not ?"
" I did my best not to touch him," replied the old baronet,,
reluctantly ; " but he put me so hardly to it, that that "
" Well 1" 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 me !" cried Hilda.
" It is nothing nothing whatever, Miss Scarve," rejoined
Firebras; "the surgeon says he will be out a^ain in a week."
" I am glad you hit him," said the miser; "it will teach him ta
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 young 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 1" 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,,
j-ullenly.
" 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," rejoined!
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.
Scarve."
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 eaves-droppers ? w he-
said, glancing at the door.
" I hope not," replied the miser, who eyed him with great
repugnance ; " but if you have any secret matters to discuss, you,
had better speak in a low tone."
"Very well," resumed Firebras, complying with the hint,,
" we must have a little talk together about this young 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 Fircbrau ; " 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 coiiJ
sent to his union with her."
" You must consent if I require you to do so," said Firebra?,
coldly.
The miser moved uneasily in his chair.
" You will not pretend to dispute my power to compel you to
give her to him ?" pursued Firebras. u I have but to produce a
certain paper that you know of, and she is his."
u Not so fast," rejoined the nliser. " 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 Randulph 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."
" I 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."
" Indeed !" 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 ?"
ct It would make a material difference, 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 few thousand pounds will settle
the matter with these 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 ; vou will," returned Firebras. " It will be your interest
to do so.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 203
" Hum !" exclaimed the other.
" If he espouses your daughter, he must espouse the Jacobite
cause also," pursued Firebras; "that we must both insist upon.
His mother 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
lips 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. 5 '
And putting on his hat, he took his departure without sum-
moning Jacob.
CHAPTER II.
MRS. CREW HER SOLICITUDE ABOUT HER SON ; AND HER CONVERSATION
WITH ABEL.
IN the 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 effects, 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 I" 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 maintain 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
Randulph felt the hot tears falling fast upon his hand.
;2(H THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Do not distress yourself, dearest mother," he said ; " I am
already 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,
she 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
Trussell, 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 time. 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
best ; and some four-and-t\venty years ago, she was sought on all
hands, and had many brilliant alliances proposed 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 vvorldli-
ness of Trussell. 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 much 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
keyt 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 DAUGHTER. 205
way he could, and lived harder and more recklessly than ever.
He was fond of horse-racing and cock-fighting, arid 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 nearly 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 which
he had been accustomed, seldom hunted, and amused himself
chiefly with bowling. This fatal course soon began to tell upon
him. The 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 found 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
barely 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.
Crew 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 was 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 possible ; for, in
compliance with the surgeon's injunctions, she avoided anything
like 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 I brother,
what a meeting has this been ! I trust it is the last duel he will
ever be engaged in."
" I think he has come off famously," replied 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 llandulph'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 onlv
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
maintenance of a code of honour, to which all gentlemen must
subscribe, and any infraction of w r hich 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 at 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 1" rejoined Abel, bitterly.
"I meant no allusion to you, sir," cried Trussell, reddening,
" none whatever."
" Nor did I suspect you of doing so," returned Abel ; " but if
llandulph loves sincerely, 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 P
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 this 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 myself, 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 foi
-203 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
your unhappy lot, and would do all in my power to avert further
distress from you. If, as I have reason to believe, Randnlph is
devotedly attached to Hilda Scarve, I am certain from what I
know of his disposition, that a disappointment in obtaining her
will blight him for life, and I am sure it would be only increas-
ing your own unhappiness, to feel that you had made him
miserable."
' But I do not make him miserable, sister !" cried Abel
sharply. " He is a free agent, and can marry whom he pleases,
without my consent."
" I have told you he will never do so, brother," said Mrs.
Crew. " His future happiness or misery rests with you."
" Sophia, I will not endure this," said Abel, sternly; "and I
request the subject may never be mentioned again. I have no
desire to wound your feelings, but the truth must not be hidden
from you. Since his arrival in town, Randulph has exhibited
such a turn for gaiety and dissipation, that I think it would be
very unwise in him to marry at all at least, at present."
" If he cannot marry advantageously," interposed Trussell, " I
am clearly of Abel's opinion. His tastes and habits are rather
expensive."
" Expensive I" exclaimed Mrs. Crew. " They were most
moderate."
" Then he has a slight taste for play," pursued Trussell ; " and
as decidedly partial to society and amusement."
" I'll hurry him back into the country as soon as he is able to
move !" cried Mrs. Crew, greatly alarmed.
" And you'll do wisely," said Abel.
" I don't think he'll go," rejoined Trnssell, laughing; "and if
he does, he'll soon find his way back again. He's too fond of
-town to be long away from it."
" Oh ! how changed he must be !" exclaimed Mrs. Crew.
" He owes it all to his uncle Trussell," rejoined Abel, sharply.
" Then he owes me a great deal," replied Trussell ; " and I
Tiope he wont forget the debt. I think the plan of hurrying him
into the country quite wrong. If you wish Hilda to make a deep
impression upon him, that will be the surest way to accomplish
the object. In town, he has a thousand distractions. I cannot
exactly say how he will stand with Lady Brabazon after this
duel but there's Kitty Conway, and he is sure to have plenty
of new entanglements."
" Brother," cried Mrs. Crew you only furnish me with
-additional reasons for desiring to take him away."
" I am very sorry he ever came," said Abel ; " it has disturbed
the whole of my arrangements, and opened old wounds, which,
though not closed, were yet not painful. Even Trussell has
'been unsettled by it."
" Not in the least, sir," replied Trussell. " I have enjoyed
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 20fl
his vi>it amazingly; and should belie myself confoundedly, if I
said otherwise. I wish I could prevail upon you to let him
remain here a few months longer, and give him another hundred
or so and then "
" Plunge him back again into poverty I" cried Abel, cutting
him short. " What would be the use of such a course? What
good purpose would it answer? He has apparently no wish to
embark in any profession. And why should I furnish him with
the means of continuing his career of dissipation ? No. I will
do no such thing."
" Will you sec how he goes on for a month after his convales-
cence ?" asked Trussell. " Surely, that is no great length of
time to allow him."
'* I will promise nothing," replied Abel. " And now, brother,
I shall be glad to be left alone for a short time with Sophia."
" Willingly, sir," replied Trussei!. And he quitted the room.
Abel then took a chair, and motioned his sister to seat herself
beside him. For a few moments he continued silent, as if sum-
moning up resolution to address her; at length, he spoke.
" You have alluded to past times, Sophia," he said, in faltering
tones ; " and have contrasted my position with that of your son,
but you well know they are widely different. Nay, do not inter-
rupt me I know what you would say. Randolph has personal
advantages which I never possessed, and which are sure to win
him favour in the eyes of your sex. Besides, his nature does not
resemble mine ; his feelings are not so acute and concentrated ;
nor do I believe he could love so deeply. The love I entertained
for Arabella Clinton was not the growth of a day a month a
year but the love of years. I Lad seen her opening beauties
expand had acquainted myself with her mind ascertained her
disposition, her temper knew all her feelings, and persuaded
myself she requited my love."
" And she did requite it, brother," replied Mrs. Crew. " She
did love you."
" In mercy, do not tell me so !" cried Abel, becoming as pale
as death. " I would rather think she hated me deceived me ;
but loved me ! that belief is only wanting to make me
thoroughly wretched !"
"Calm yourself, dear brother," said Mrs. Crew. "I would
not increase your unhappiness for the world ; but I am persuaded
that the examination of this subject, which, from unhappy cir-
cumstances, we have never hitherto been able to discuss, will, in
the end, relieve you of much anxiety."
"I will try to bear it in that hope," replied Abel; "but the
barbed arrow is too firmly and too deeply planted to be removed.
You will only lacerate me further in the attempt."
"I will not be intimidated," rejoined Mrs. Crew. "I shall
begin by telling you that it is your own fault tb*t Arabella
P"
210 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER
Clinton was not your wife. You have alluded to the deep
passion you entertained for her, and your doubts of her affection
for you. I do not say she loved you with equal passion, because
you were not a person to inspire such ardour, neither was she
one to feel it, for her nature was frigid. But she loved you well
enough to have been your wife; and what is more, she thoroughly
respected you; and therefore there can be no doubt that you
might have been happy."
" Go .on !" groaned Abel.
" You will forgive me, if I speak plainly," pursued Mrs. Crew,
4 * for I must do so to show you where you erred. Rating your-
self too humbly, you pursued, as I conceive, a most unwise and
dangerous plan, in order to test the sincerity of your mistress's
attachment. Fearful she might accept you on the score of your
wealth, you represented yourself as being in very moderate cir-
cumstances; and, while lull of tenderness and affection, adopted
not unfrequently a harsh and forbidding manner towards her."
" True, true 1" cried Abel.
"You were both the victims of error," continued Mrs. Crew.
" Deceived by your manner, she thought you had conceived a
dislike for her, and strove to wean herself from all regard for
you ; while her efforts made you believe you were indifferent to
her. All, however, might have come right, but for the fatal
mistake of deluding her as to your circumstances. With her,
wealth was of little importance, and she would have married you
as readily poor as rich ; but with her father it was otherwise."
" Her father was aware of my circumstances," said Abel, in a
sombre tone.
" He was so," replied Mrs. Crew ; " but it was his business to
conceal them, for Arabella had a richer suitor, whom he pre-
ferred. Captivated by her beauty, Mr. Scarve proposed to her,
and his suit was seconded by her father, who told her you were
needy, sour-tempered, and indifferent to her. Doubly deceived,
she hesitated. Instead of seeking an explanation, you avoided
it, and retired to make way for your rival."
" I did so because I thought him preferred," said Abel.
" Several slight circumstances, I know, conspired to confirm
you in your opinion," said Mrs. Crew ; " but they were all de-
vised by Mr. Clinton. A false construction was put upon your
absence, and Arabella was induced to give her hand to Mr,
Scarve."
" Why was I not told all this at the time?" cried Abel.
" Because I was not aware of it myself," replied Mrs. Crew
" You may remember that this occurred during the period of my
engagement to my poor husband, who was an old and intimate
friend of Mr. Scarve's, and consequently, and not unnaturally,
disliked by you. This produced a coolness between you. Be-
sides, to be plain with you, I did not understand or estimate
The (1 of the : >acket
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 211
your character then as thoroughly as I do now. I thought you
cold and repelling, and never gave you credit for the depth of
feeling you have since exhibited. Neither had Mr. Scarve dis-
played himself in his true colours then. At that time he was
passably good-looking, kept a tolerable establishment, and I
really thought Arabella was better off than if she had married
you. I was angry, too, that you had attempted to test her
affections by misrepresenting your circumstances, and thought
you rightly served in losing her. Hence arose the misunder-
standing between us, which separated us to the present period."
" But how do you know Arabella's sentiments towards me
were such as you describe ?" asked Abel.
" I have it under her own hand," replied Mrs. Crew. " She
wrote to me a full explanation of all the circumstances connected
with this part of her life, stating how sincerely she had loved
you, and how much she lamented that a mistake had separated
her from you. From her letters, and from other information
afforded me by my husband, I have been enabled to understand
the whole case. You have been the victim of misunderstanding.
But console yourself. A thousandth part of the suffering you
have undergone would atone for a more grievous error than you
have committed. Console yourself, I say. You were beloved
by Arabella Clinton, and to the last, she entertained the siu-
ccrest regard for you."
" That is indeed a consolation to me," said Abel, melting into
tears. "I am not ashamed to indulge this weakness in your
presence, sister," he added, in a broken voice.
" Those tears will do you good," she replied, " and I pray you
to indulge them freely. The past will not henceforth be so
painful to contemplate; for, if I mistake not, your bitterest pang
was the idea that you had never been loved."
" It was !" gasped Abel.
"And that has now been removed," replied Mrs. Crew.
" Here are Arabella's letters," she added, giving him a small
packet. " You will sec from them how you have misunderstood
her."
Abel took the letters, glanced at the superscription with a
shudder, and placed them in his breast.
" I will read them," he said, " but not now."
" Does Hilda Scarve resemble her mother?" asked Mrs. Crew,
after a pause.
" She is like her, but handsomer," replied Abel. " I have
seen her upon two occasions lately, and she appears a very
amiable girl."
" Then what objection can there be to an union between her
and Randulph?" asked Mrs. Crew.
"I have said I will not be pressed on that head," rejoined
P2
212 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Abel, sternly, "/have an objection a strong objection. What
it is you shall know at another time."
"Heaven grant that these two young people may not be
equally victims of a mistake with you and Arabella!" sighed
JNIrs. Crew.
At this moment, Mr. Jukes entered the room.
" Mr. Scarve's servant, Jacob Post, has called to inquire after
Mr. Randulph," he said ; " and understanding that you are here,
madam, he craves permission to see you."
" May he come in, brother ?" said Mrs. Crew.
" Certainly," was the reply.
And Jacob was ushered into the room.
"I'm glad to hear Mr. Randulph is gettin' on so well, ma'am,"
he said, with an uncouth reverence, to Mrs. Crew. " Lord
lov'ee ! how like you are to him to be sure."
" I hope your young mistress has got over the fright sho under-
went at Vauxhall, Jacob ?" said Mrs. Crew.
"Why, yes, pretty well, thank'ee, ma'am," replied Jacob; "she
looks rayther palish, but whether from fright, or concern for Mr
Randulph, I'm sure I can't say."
" You were present, Jacob, when my son rescued her from the
libertine, Villiers were you not?" asked Mrs. Crew.
U I was, ma'am," replied Jacob; "and I never saw a more
spcrited young gen'l'man i' my life. I should like to see him,
and thank him for the pinkin' he has given that beau."
" It cannot be at present, Jacob," replied Mrs. Crew. " He is
ordered to be kept perfectly quiet; and even I am not allowed to
remain in his room."
" There's no danger, ma'am, I hope ?" asked Jacob, with real
concern.
" None whatever, if he's not excited," returned Mrs. Crew.
" I'm glad to hear it," said Jacob, brightening up ; " and Miss
Hilda'll be glad to hear it, too. She'd never ha' got over it, if any-
thing had happened to him on her account."
" Is she then so much interested in him ?" asked Mrs. Crew.
" Why, you see, ma'am," said Jacob, rather puzzled, and gazing
from the questioner to Abel, who eyed him very curiously, " it's
nat'rel she should be interested in a gen'i'man as has rendered her
such important services as Mr. Randulph has done."
" Quite natural," replied Mrs. Crew. " But I wish to ask you
a plain question, Jacob : Is, or is not, Miss Hilda kindly affected
toward my son ?"
" Then I'll answer the quest ionas plainly as it's asked, ma'am,**
replied Jacob "she is."
Mrs. Crew glanced at her brother, and Jacob took his cue from
the glance.
" I hope the two may come together, ma'am," he said , "I'm
wire they're cut out for each other."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 213
" I can't help thinking so, from all I hear of Hilda," said Mrs.
Crew.
" It is idle to speculate upon what can never take place," said
Abel, sternly. " Go and get something to eat, Jacob, and tell
jour young lady that Mr. Randulph will be quite himself in a
few days that he is going on as well as possible that there is
no sort of danger."
" In other words, that there's no occasion to send to inquire
after him again eh, sir ?" said Jacob.
" Exactly," replied Abel. " Good day, Jacob good day."
" I don't like him half so well as I did before," thought Jacob,
as he left the room, and marched off to the butler's pantry, to Mr.
Jukes, who placed bread and cold meat, together with a jug of
stout ale, before him.
" Here's Mr. Randulph's speedy recovery," cried Jacob.
" I pledge you in that toast," said Mr. Jukes, filling himself a
glass, and draining it.
Soon after the porter's departure, Abel quitted his sistei
with the intention of going forth on business.
While she was pondering on what had passed between them,
the door was opened by Mr. Jukes, who told her that a gentleman
had called to see her, and the next moment he ushered in Cord-
ivell Firebras.
CHAPTER III
DETAILING THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN CORDWELL FIREBRAS AND MRS. CREW.
MKS. CREW, though a good deal surprised and startled, main-
tained her composure sufficiently well not to attract the notice of
the butler, who, having placed a chair for the visitor, quitted the
room.
" I have called to inquire after your son, madam," commenced
Firebras. " I was present at the affair yesterday, and can confirm
what you have no doubt heard from your brother, that he con-
ducted himself admirably throughout it."
" My son, I am happy in being able to state, is rapidly recover-
ing," replied Mrs. Crew; "and having satisfied you on this point,
sir, I must entreat you to abridge your visit as much as possible.
I would not on any account that my brother Abel should find jou
here."
"There is no fear of that, madam," replied Firebras; "I
watched him go forth, before I ventured to make my call. But
time is precious, and I will come to the object of my visit at once.
I wrote to you to tell you how much captivated your son was with
Mr. Scarve's fair daughter, Hilda. A slight act of imprudence on
214 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
his part for some time alienated the young lady's regard ; but he
set himself right with her at Ranelagh, and at Vauxhall made
rapid progress in her affections. I was present when the result of
the duel was communicated to her yesterday, and if I had enter-
tained any previous doubt as to the extent of Randulph's hold
upon her heart, her conduct then would have removed it. She
was taken fainting from the room."
" Poor girl !" exclaimed Mrs. Crew " I am sorry for her."
" Why sorry ?" rejoined Firebras; " Raudulph will make her
an excellent husband."
" But they will never be united," said Mrs. Crew, sighing
deeply.
" It will be his own fault if they are not," observed Firebras,
drily.
" How so ?" cried Mrs. Crew ; " both his uncle and her father
are against the match."
" That I well know," replied Firebras ; " but both may be
brought to assent to it."
61 You are trifling with me," said the lady.
" I thought you had known me better, Mrs. Crew, than to
suppose me capable of trifling on a serious subject," rejoined
Firebras, almost sternly. " I can make good my words. Of Mr.
Scarve's consent, I am sure."
" He must have altered his mind then, completely," said Mrs.
Crew; "for I have been told he intended her for his nephew,
and forbade Randulph his house."
"He will consent, if I require it," said Firebras, signifi-
cantly.
" You amaze me," exclaimed Mrs. Crew. " My brother, how-
ever, has, within these few minutes, refused to give his consent,
and Randulph cannot marry without it."
" Why cannot he ?" replied Firebras, smiling. " It is not always
necessary to ask an uncle's consent in these cases. Still, as Ran-
dulph has considerable expectations from your brother, it would
be better not to offend him. I do not despair of winning him
over."
" You will accomplish a miracle if you do so," said Mrs.
Crew.
"And I will accomplish it, and more, provided Randulph joins
our party," replied Firebras.
" He refused your former overtures, did he not ?" asked Mrs.
Crew.
"He did," replied Firebras; "but I should have succeeded
with him, if it had not been for the interference of your brother
Abel."
" I am rejoiced to hear it," cried Mrs. Crew.
"Howl" exclaimed Firebras., "are you no longer faithful to
our cause ?"
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER, 215
" As faithful as ever," replied Mrs. Crew, " but I would rather
my son died than forfeit his honour and he must forfeit it, if
he joins us in any other way than on conviction."
" Pshaw ! it is not necessary to look at the matter so nicely,*'
replied Firebras, contemptuously. " We must make proselytes
the best way we can. Randulph will be very useful to us on
the approaching outbreak, and I am therefore anxious to secure
him. He is precisely the person I want to attend upon the
prince and have him I will."
" You are very peremptory, sir," said Mrs. Crew.
"You accused me of trifling with you just now, madam/' pur-
sued Firebras, " but I will show you I am in earnest. Your son's
whole destiny is in my hands ; and it depends altogether on me
whether his future course is brilliant, successful, and happy, or
the reverse. Not only can I wed him to the object of his affec-
tions not only can I procure him a handsome dower from her
father not only can I secure the consent of his uncle, but I
can restore to him the estates which he has given up to his
father's creditors, and place him in the position he is entitled to-
occupy. All this I can, and will do."
" Provided he joins you ?" said Mrs. Crew.
" Of course," replied Firebras " Of course."
" Then I fear he will remain in his present condition,**
sighed Mrs. Crew.
" Let us look at the other side of the case," pursued Firebras,
sternly. " This is not a matter on which to be scrupulous, and
I am determined to carry my point. If Randulph refuses to
join me, he loses Hilda loses her dower loses his uncle's for-
tune and his own. Without me Mr. Scarve will never give him
his daughter; and without me he will never recover his pro-
perty. Now, mark me, madam, for I know your son better than
you do. He is a fine-spirited young man, and endowed with
excellent qualities ; but he has essentially the habits and feelings
of a gentleman, and your brother Trussell has taken care to ino-
culate him with his own tastes and propensities. He will never
be content with the quiet life he has hitherto led ; but, tormented
by his love for Hilda, and the sense of what he has lost, will be
driven to some desperate course."
" He may yet marry her, though without her father's consent,"
said Mrs. Crew.
" And marry to beggary," rejoined Firebras, with a bitter
laugh. " I do not wish to hold out threats and what I say is
said only to show my power. He never shall marry Hilda
Scarve, nor shall he ever enjoy his own again, unless he joins
the Jacobite cause. I can prevent both, and I will prevent them.
His decision must be made quickly, for he is wanted. Within a
month from this time he must be mine, or all will be lost to him.
As a prudent and affectionate mother as a well-wisher to our
216 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER
*ause I look to you, madam, to use all your influence with him
to produce this result."
" I cannot I cannot 1" she rejoined.
" Then you destroy him," said Firebras.
" Oh, put it not thus," she rejoined. " You were an old friend
of his father's, and received much kindness, and, unless I mistake,
pecuniary assistance from him. Do not act thus cruelly towards
the son of your old friend I"
" Cruelly I" exclaimed Firebras, laughing derisively. " I offer
him a fortune and the lady of his love, and you call it cruelty
ha! ha I"
" But at the price of his honour," said Mrs. Crew.
"His honour I bah!" exclaimed Firebras, contemptuously.
" What is to stain his honour in quitting the cause of a miserable
usurper to join that of the rightful claimant of the throne? If
you persist in such a notion, I shall begin to doubt the constancy
of your own opinions."
" I should be glad if Randulph would voluntarily embrace our
cause," said Mrs. Crew; u but I would disown him if he were
base enough to be bought"
" Well, I have placed both views of the case fairly before you,"
said Firebras, rising " weigh over what I have said, and decide."
And as he turned to depart, he encountered Abel Beechcroft,
who had entered the room unobserved.
"So !" he exclaimed, without losing his composure, "we have
had a listener here, eh ? You have heard what has passed
between us, Mr. Beechcroft ?"
" Some part of it," replied Abel ; " and I applaud my sister's
conduct as much as I condemn yours. You have stated that you
can compel me to give my consent to my nephew's marriage with
Hilda Scarve. Be pleased to prove the assertion, sir."
" You have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Beechcroft, because I
have not had time to put my plan in operation," replied Fire-
bras ; " nevertheless, if I can prove to you that I can recover your
nephew's property and that I will only do so on the condition
of your giving your unqualified consent to his union with the
young lady in question, you will not refuse it ?"
" Coupled as it is with the other condition you have annexed
to it, I should deem it my duty to do so," rejoined Abel. " But
you must excuse me if I say that I distrust your power of getting
back ray nephew's property."
" I shall not make the rejoinder which I should do to one of
less pacific disposition than yourself, Mr. Beechcroft, 1 ' replied
Firebras, sternly. " But you have doubted my word unjustly.
I can if I choose, get back Randulph Crew's property."
"Are you one of his father's creditors?" demanded Abel.
" It matters not what I am," returned Firebras. " It must
suffice that I can make good my assertion."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 217
"If 3*011 are not a creditor," rejoined Abel, " I can obtain the
property for him as readily myself."
"You are welcome to 'make the experiment," said Firebras,
\vith a slight laugh of defiance. " Mrs. Crew, I have the honour
to wish you a good morning. Though my plans have been some-
what precipitated by your worthy brother, t still am not without
hopes that he will come into them; and at all events, his presence
at the interview will save 3 T ou the necessity of explanation. Your
son, I trust, will speedily be master of his propert3 T , the husband
of Hilda, and
" A Jacobite," supplied Abel.
" Precisely," said Firebras, laughing. " Good morning, Mr.
Beechcroft." And turning from Abel, he left the room.
" That is a daring and a dangerous man," said Abel to his
sister.
" A highly dangerous man," she replied ; " and Randulph must
be preserved from him."
' He must," replied Abel. " I shall make it my immediate
business to ascertain how far there is a probability of his being
correct in his statement about the property. It was fortunate
that I chanced to come back. Jukes told me there was some one
with you, and from his description of the person, I felt sure who
it must be. Let us go into the garden, and talk the matter over
further."
CHAPTER IV.
TREATS OF TIIE MISER'S ILLNESS ; AND OF THE DISCOVERT OP THE MYSTERIOUS
PACKET BY HILDA.
HILDA SCARVE had soon a new cause of anxict3% Not only was
she uneasy about Randulph, whose recovery was not quite so
rapid as had been anticipated, but her father's state of health
began to occasion her considerable alarm. While walking out,
he got caught in the rain; and on his return home, though
drenched to the skin, refused to change his clothes. A low fever
was the consequence ; and holding apothecary's stuff, as he
termed physic, in abhorrence, he would take nothing to carry it
off. Owing to this neglect, that which was a slight matter in
the commencement, ended in becoming a serious illness*
One day, in spite of his daughter's entreaties, he would go
forth ; and, after being absent a few hours, during which, as it
appeared, he had walked to a considerable distance, he returned
in such a state of exhaustion, that Hilda was quite terrified. AH,
however, she could prevail upon him to take was a small basin
of weak water-gruel, but without even a teaspoonful of wine or
brandy in iu Next morning he was considerably better, and
278 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Hilda thought the crisis past ; but she was mistaken, and so was
her father; for, fancying that the exercise of the previous day
had done him good, he went out again, walked further than
before, got caught a second time in the rain, and fearfully
increased the fever.
On this occasion, he was persuaded to take off his wet clothes,
and go to bed, and even to have a small fire lighted in his
chamber, where none had ever before been lighted in his time.
Watching this operation with the utmost anxiety, he called to
Jacob, who was laying the fire, not to waste the wood, though
only three or four small chips were used ; next, blamed him for
putting on too much coal ; and, lastly, forbade him to light it.
Jacob, however, ventured to disobey his orders, and having
applied a match to some bits of paper stuck in the bars, quitted
the room. As soon as he was gone, the miser instantly sprang
out of bed, and without much difficulty extinguished the only
partially-kindled fire.
Shortly afterwards, Hilda came into the room, and finding
what had happened, besought him to let the fire be lighted, and
at last wrung from him a most reluctant assent. But again
another accident occurred. More paper was lighted, the wood
caught, and began to crackle in the bars. The chimney, how-
ever, smoked, and Jacob peeping up it to ascertain the cause,
perceived that it was stopped by a wisp of straw. He imme-
diately thrust up his arm, pulled down the obstacle, and in so
doing, dislodged two heavy bags, which fell into the fire with a
rattling noise, proclaiming the nature of their contents.
At this sound, the miser, who had been sinking into a slumber,
instantly sprang up, and uttering a wild cry, ordered both his
daughter and Jacob out of the room. They knew him too well
to disobey, and as soon as they were gone, he got out of bed
again, plucked the bags from the fire, which luckily had not
burnt the sacking, and, locking them carefully up in a strong
box, placed the key under his pillow.
But the idea of the discovery of his hoard haunted him, and,
combined with the fever, prevented the possibility of slumber.
He tried to recollect the different places where he had hidden
money, and, unable to call them all to mind, grew almost dis-
tracted. Hilda begged to be allowed to sit up with him, but he
would not allow her; neither would he permit Jacob to do so.
Waiting till he thought all were asleep, he then rose, and wrap-
ping himself in his dressing-gown, proceeded to examine several
nooks and crannies in the room, in which he had placed small
sums of money.
All his hoards were safe, except one. He had put ten guineas
in a glove about two months before, and fancied he had hidden
it behind a shutter. But it was not there, and convinced that
Jacob had discovered it, and purloined it, he was about to
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 219
descend and tax him with the robbery, when he all at once
recollected having placed the glove under a broken plank near
the hearthstone. He immediately took up the board, and there,
sure enough, was the lost treasure.
Made easy by this discovery, he restored the glove to its
place, and returned to bed. Still, he could not rest. An idea
took possession of him, that the money he had buried in the
cellar was gone, and unable to shake off the notion, he arose,
;md habiting himself as before, took the rushlight that burnt by
his bedside, and with trembling but cautious steps, went down
stairs.
Arrived at the cellar, he set down the rushlight, and cast an
almost piteous look at the cask, beneath which he had buried his
gold, as if seeking to know whether it was still there. At last he
summoned up resolution for the task, and repairing to the coal-
hole, possessed himself of the shovel, and commenced digging up
the box.
Anxiety supplied him with strength, and in less than half an
hour, he had got out the box, opened it, and counted the money
bags, which he found all right. He would have counted the
gold within them as well, but neither his strength nor time would
allow him to do so.
While thus employed he formed a terrible representation of
the effect that avarice may produce upon the mind. There he
worked, burning with fever in a damp cellar, half naked, for he
had taken off his dressing-gown to enable him to ply the spade
with greater freedom ; there he worked, as if life and death
were in his efforts, and almost looked, such was his ghastly
appearance, like a corpse digging his own grave.
It was a fearful sight to see, and it was witnessed by one upon
whom it made a lasting and forcible impression. This was his
daughter. Hearing him go down stairs, she had followed him,
and saw what he was about, but did not dare to interrupt him,
apprehensive of the consequences. At last, when he had got
out the box, and examined its contents, she hoped all was over,
and, proceeding to Jacob's room, roused him, and telling him
what had happened, bade him watch his master, and then retired
to her own chamber.
Jacob obeyed, and having seen the former occurrence, was at
no loss to comprehend what was now happening. He, accord-
ingly, stationed himself at the door, and saw through the chink,,
for it was left ajar, that the miser was filling up the hole, and
restoring the place to its former appearance.
It was wonderful, and almost incredible, to see how that feeble
old man, shaken by sickness, and tottering on the verge of the
grave, toiled how he persevered how he took the earth out of
the cask how he filled up the hole how he restored the bricks
to their places how he trod them down with his naked fee*.
1220 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Jacob was amazed, and almost felt as if he was in a dream. But
'he was suddenly roused to full consciousness as the miser, having
finished his task, leaned upon his spade to rest himself, but being
completely overcome, uttered a deep groan, and fell with his face
upon the ground.
Instantly rushing towards him, Jacob found him senseless,
and at first thought him dead, but perceiving some symptoms of
animation about him, he lifted him up in his arms as easily as if
he had been a child, and carried him up stairs to bed. He then
informed Hilda what had happened, and she hastened to apply
such restoratives as she possessed, and which, ere long, to her
infinite satisfaction, brought him back to consciousness. But he
was not himself for some hours, and rambled incessantly about
fiis treasure, which he imagined had been taken from him.
Nature, however, at length asserted her sway, and he dropped
asleep. During his slumbers, Jacob brought the chest up stairs
with the money-bags in it, and placed it at the foot of his bed.
The miser did not wake till late in the following morning, and
lie was then very faint and light-headed. He swallowed a basin
of strong broth, prepared for him by his daughter, with great
greediness, for he was as much exhausted by want of food as
from any other cause, and in the course of a few hours gained
strength considerably.
As he got better, his head cleared, and he began to recollect
something of the events of the previous night. At first, he
thought he must have dreamt of digging up his treasure ; but by
degrees becoming satisfied that he had really done so, he grew
xceedingly uneasy, and desired to know how he had been put
to bed. Hilda then told him, and showed him where the chest
was placed, assuring him all was safe. Still he was not wholly
satisfied, and later in the day determined, in spite of all dissua-
sions to the contrary, to get up.
Left to himself, he locked the door, and examined the bags,
which were all tied in a peculiar manner, and sealed, and their
appearance satisfied him that they had not been opened. He
had not been long up, when he felt so dreadfully ill, that, for the
first time in his life, he began to think his end approaching.
Falling back in his chair, he shook as with an ague, while cold
per&piration burst from every pore. The fit, however, passed
off, and he made an effort to crawl to the door, and call Jacob.
The latter instantly answered the summons, and looked so un-
mistakcably alarmed at his master's appearance, that the other
could not but notice it.
"You think me very ill, Jacob?" said the miser "Don't be
afraid of frightening me, speak the truth, I know you do."
" Why, yes," rejoined Jacob ; " you don't look well, certainly.
If I was you, and I'd any affairs to arrange, I'd settle 'cm quickly,
ibr fear of accident, that's all."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 221
"I understand," replied the miser, with a ghastly grin; "but
I'm not going to die just yet, Jacob, not just yet, don't
liink it."
' I'm sure I hope not," replied Jacob ; " for though we haven't
agreed over and above well of late, I should be sorry to lose
TOM."
The miser turned away, and crept back to his chair, sinking
into it exhausted by the effort he had made.
" I want you to go to Gray's Inn, Jacob," he said, at length,.
- to tell Mr. Diggs to corne to me."
" What, to make your will ?" rejoined Jacob. " Well, I think
you're right there. No harm in bein' on the safe side."
" Never mind what I want him for," rejoined the miser; "do
as I bid you."
" I wish you'd let me bring some other 'turney i'stead o' that
smooth-faced, palaverin' Diggs," said Jacob. " A will's a serious
itfair, and I should be sorry you did an injustice that can't be
repaired."
"Don't argue with me, rascal, but begone !" cried the miser.
" I don't like fetchin' Diggs," said Jacob. " Couldn't I make
s\ will for you? A few words would do it ' I leave all my pro-
perty and possessions, whatsoever and whorcsomedever, to my
lawfully-begotten daughter, Hilda Scarve.' That'll be quite
enough, and far better than any will Mr. Diggs '11 make for yoiu
Beside;?, it'll cost you nothinV
"This fellow will kill me!" groaned the miser. "Do go,
Jacob 1" he added, imploringly.
" Well, I can't resist that," said Jacob ; " but as you hope to
be forgiven hereafter, don't act unjustly by your daughter.''
" If you continue faithful to me to the last, I'll leave you a
handsome legacy, Jacob," said the miser; ' a handsome legacy,.
but not a farming, if you disobey me."
" I don't want a legacy," replied Jacob. " I'd rather not have
it. But don't you forget your wife's sister, poor Mrs. Clinton,
You've used her hardly this many a year. Make it up to her
now."
" I must look ill, indeed!" groaned the miser, "since the rascal
dares to talk to me thus. " Will you go or not?" he asked.
" Oh, yes, I'll go," said Jacob. " " Shall I send your daughter
to you ?"
And receiving a faint reply in the affirmative, he quitted the
room.
About an hour after this, he returned with Diggs, who was
closeted with the miser for a long time. Jacob knew that some
writing must be going forward, for he was ordered to take pen
and ink up stairs ; and he would fain have played the spy, but
he could not do so without being detected. At length, he was
summoned by Diggs, who desired him to call a coach. He was
222 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
/lot long in meeting with one; and on informing the attorney
that it was ready for him, he was almost struck dumb with asto-
nishment, by an order from the latter to take down the chest
containing the money-bags, and place it in the vehicle.
" Why, you don't mean to send that chest away ?" he said to
his master.
" Yes, that chest that identical chest, my good fellow," said
the attorney.
" But I must have the order from master's own lips, or I wont
obey it," said Jacob, doggedly.
" Will you be pleased, sir) to tell your servant what he is to
do?" said Diggs, impatiently.
" Take away the chest," replied the miser.
" What this with the money in it, this here ?" asked Jacob,
giving it a sounding knock.
" Ay," rejoined the miser.
" Well, if I must, I must," said Jacob, shouldering the chest ;
<e but it would have been safer i j the cellar than where it's a-^oiu*
to."
He had scarcely placed his burden in the coach, when Diggs
followed him, and jumping into the vehicle, ordered him, with a
triumphant glance, to shut the door, and bid the coachman drive
to his chambers.
"Gray's Inn, coachee !" cried Jacob, as he complied; " and
may you break your fare's neck as you go," he added, in a lower
tone.
His mind lightened, apparently, by what had taken place, Mr.
Scarve remained perfectly quiet during the rest of the day, and
retired early to rest ; but he passed another sleepless night, and was
seized with a new panic about his money. The next day, finding
himself unable to go down stairs, he ordered Jacob to bring up all
his boxes, and to place them near him. His fever increasing, and
assuming somewhat the character of an ague, he consented to
have a small fire kept up constantly in his bed-room, and set his
chair close beside it. In addition to his dressing-gown, he wrapped
an old blanket over his shoulders, and tried to keep his lower limbs
warm by clothing them in a couple of pair of worsted hose. His
bed being totally destitute of hangings, he had a sheet hung up
against the lower end of it to keep off' the blaze of the fire, which
he fancied disturbed him during the night. These slight comforts
were all he permitted himself, and he remained as inflexible as
ever on the score of medicine, and medical advice.
" A doctor can do no good," he said to Jacob, who urged him
to send for one : " if abstinence wont cure a man, no physic
will."
" Well, perhaps you're right, sir," said Jacob ; " but I wish
you'd think less o' your worldly affairs, and more o'your sperretual
ones. Look at that pictur' over your chimney -piece, and see how
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER 225
Death is takin' away the covetous man's treasures before his very
eyes. It might be intended as a warnin' to you/'
The picture alluded to by Jacob, was a copy of one of Holbein's
designs of the Dance of Death, suspended over the chimney-piece,
and with the scriptural motto underneath it " Stnlte, hac nocte
repetunt animam tuam : et qua parasti cujus erunt ?" did seem to
have a fearful and solemn application to the present conjuncture.
The miser shuddered as he looked at it, but he would not acknow-
ledge the justice of the porter's remark.
Of late, he had begun to entertain a dislike to Jacob, and
would scarcely suffer him to come near him. Having seen him,
when opening one of the boxes, take up an old stocking-foot in
which a few pieces of silver were tied, he took it into his head
that he designed to rob him ; and his fears being magnified by
his perturbed imagination, he soon persuaded himself that he also
intended to murder him. To prevent any such design, he placed
a loaded pistol on the chimney-piece near him, and hung a
drawn sword on a peg, so as to be within reach in case of need.
These weapons he carried with him to his bed-side at night.
But he grew daily worse and worse, and his faculties became
more and more enfeebled. He rambled about the house at night,
almost in a state of somnambulism, muttering strange things about
his treasure, and frequently visiting the cellar where he had buried
the chest, unconscious that it was gone.
At such times, Jacob constantly followed, to prevent him from
doing himself a mischief, but took care not to be seen. His groans
and lamentations were pitiful to hear, for he had begun to fancy
himself a ruined man, and not even the sight of his money could
assure him to the contrary.
It was vain to reason with him. The distressing idea was too
strongly impressed upon his mind to be removed.
His next whim was to have his boxes opened by Hilda, to whom
he had entrusted his keys, and he insisted upon certain deeds and
papers being read to him, the meaning of which he only very im-
perfectly comprehended.
One night, when seated by the fireside wrapped in his blanket,
and with his feet on a straw hassock, he desired his daughter to
read him some more papers. The fire burnt as cheerily as it could
in the starveling grate, and Hilda insisting upon having two candles
to read by, there was more light than usual. Having got through
several mortgages, leases, and bonds, to the innumerable clauses
of which he listened in his usual apathetic manner, he suddenly
turned round to her, and pointing to the strong box which formerly
stood under his table in the room down stairs, signed to her to
open it.
Well aware that this box contained his most private papers,
Hilda had hitherto avoided meddling with it, but thus enjoined,
she no longer hesitated. Placing it on the table, therefore, she
22 i THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
right one,
tool; the large hunch of keys, and soon finding the right
unlocked it.
" Is there anything in particular you wish me to read, dear
father?'' she said, taking out some papers tied together with red
tape. " Here is a hond for two thousand pounds from George
Dclahay Villiers, Esquire ; another from Lady Brabazon ; and
another from Sir Bulkeley Price. Shall I read any of them ?"
The miser shook his head.
" Here are several bills," she continued, taking up a roll of
smaller papers " and another bundle of mortgages, will you hear
any of them?"
The miser shook his head. The movement was almost mecha-
nical with him.
" Then I will go on," pursued Hilda. " Ah I what is this letter
\\ ith the black seal I Shall I read it ?"'
The miser made no reply. He was gazing listlessly into the fire,
and watching the wreaths of smoke ascend the chimney with
childish delight.
Hilda, therefore, opened the letter, and found a small memo-
randum enclosed in it, which she placed upon the table. Trem-
bling with emotion, she then began to read aloud the following
lines:
" OLD AND VALUED FRIEND, If this should ever meet your
eye, I shall have been a year in my grave, for in accordance with
our agreement, it will not be delivered to you until the expiration
of that time after my death. The agreement, I need not remind
you, was so formed, that in case we should both die within the
year, the contract entered into by us respecting the marriage of
our children should be null and void."
Here Hilda was startled by a sharp cry from her father, and
looking up, she saw that he was staring wildly and inquiringly at
her.
" What are you reading ?" he asked.
" The letter delivered to you by liandulph Crew," she replied;
" the letter from his father."
" And what business have you to read it ?" he cried. " Who
gave you leave to do so ?"
" Having gone so far, I shall go on," rejoined Hilda; and she
resumed her reading: "'I now call upon you to fulfil your
share of the contract, and to give your daughter to my son. When
we entered into the engagement, I was supposed to be the richer
of the two ; but I am now sadly reduced, and if my son fulfils his
word, and gives up the estates to pay my creditors, he will have
little or nothing.'"
" lie has nothing he has nothing I" cried the miser, " I will
never give my consent never I"
"'But under whatever circumstances he may be placed,'"
said Hilda, continuing the letter. " ' whether he gives up the
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 225
property or not, I call upon you to fulfil your part of the
contract, as I would have fulfilled mine, whatever might have
happened to you; arid to make, as you have agreed to do, a
settlement upon your daughter proportioned to your means.' "
" I made no such agreement 1" cried the miser ; " it is false
false !"
" ' I enclose a copy of the memorandum,' " pursued Hilda, still
reading, "'the original, as you know, is in the possession of
Cordwell Fircbras. He will see it executed. God so requite
you, as you shall fulfil your agreement or neglect it! RAN-
DI-LPII CREW.' And here is the memorandum," she added,
taking up the smaller piece of paper, " It is signed by Randulph
Crew and John Scarve.
" It is a forgery !" shrieked the miser.
"The original is in the possession of Cordwell Firebras," said
Hilda. "Father, you have dealt unjustly by Randulph Crew.
You owe him a great reparation, and I trust you will make it."
" I owe him nothing," replied the miser; " it is all a fabrication.
Give me the papers, that I may burn them ! Give them to me
directly."
And getting up, he staggered towards her, and snatched the
letter and memorandum from her, with the intention of throwing
them into the fire. But before he could do so, the door opened,
and admitted Abel Beechcroft.
" What do you want, sir ?" cried the miser, regarding him
fearfully, and letting the papers which he had crushed in his grasp
drop upon the floor.
" I have heard of your illness, Mr. Scarve," replied Abel ; "and
am come to say a few words to you that must be said while you
are able to hear them."
" But you disturb me," rejoined the miser ff you can have
nothing to say to me."
" I have something to forgive," returned Abel.
" To forgive I'* echoed Scarve, vacantly. " How have I injured
you ? Ah ! now I recollect ! I married Arabella Clinton, whom
you would willingly have wedded. But she has been dead and
gone these seventeen years, and more."
" My father is not sufficiently himself to converse with you,
Mr. Beechcroft," said Hilda ; " but there is one thing I would
mention "
"Not a word about the letter, or the contract!" cried the
miser, with sudden fury ; " not a word, or I will launch my curse
against you a father's curse beware how you incur it !"
" What is this ?" cried Abel Beechcroft, in astonishment.
" Nothing," cried the miser " it is a matter between me and
my daughter. Get you gone. You have no business here. I
can die without your forgiveness."
" Father!" exclaimed Hilda, " I have a duty to others as well
Q
226 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
as to you. Another opportunity may not occur. I must tell
Mr. Beechcroft what I have discovered. '
The miser shook his hands at herinimpotentfury,and attempted
to pronounce the curse ; but his utterance failed him, and with a
half- articulate cry, he fell senseless to the ground.
Hilda's cries instantly brought Jacob to the room, and the
miser was laid upon the bed, where restoratives were successfully
employed. Inexpressibly shocked and alarmed by what he had
witnessed, Abel Beechcroft took his leave, and Hilda having
picked up the letter and memorandum, and carefully straightened
them, put them both into a place of security.
CHAPTER V.
ABEL'S CONDUCT ON LEARNING THE MISER'S ILLNESS SIR SINGLETON SPINKB
PROPOSES TO THE FAIR THOMASINE RANDULPH AGAIN DINES WITH LADY
BRABAZON HE RECEIVES A NOTE FROM KITTY CON WAY, AND IS ASSAULTED
BY PHILIP FREWIN AND HIS MYRMIDONS ON HIS WAY TO SUP WITH HER.
ACCOUNTS of Mr. Scarve's state of health had been conveyed to
Mrs. Crew by Jacob, who unhesitatingly expressed his conviction
that the attack would terminate fatally.
" He may linger for some time," said Jacob; " but I'm certain
he'll never be himself again."
This intelligence produced a visible effect on Abel, and Mrs.
Crew thought she could discover less asperity in his feelings
towards his old enemy. He desired Jacob to inform him daily
how his master went on, and to be sure and let him know
instantly if any material change for the worse took place.
" I suppose there is nothing I can do for him," he added
" nothing I can send him."
" Why, he wont take any physic if he knows it," said Jacob ;
" and as to wine or brandy, there isn't a drop in the house, and
hasn't been these four or five days. And we can't send to buy
any, for he only gives Miss Hilda the trifle he used to allow for
house expenses, and she doesn't like to take any of his money,
for fear of angerin* him, for he counts it every day, and would be
sure to miss it."
" Take a bottle of wine and another of brandy back with you,
Jacob," said Abel.
" Thankee, sir thankee !" rejoined Jacob ; " it may be the
means o' savin' his life. I'll mix a spoonful with his gruel, and
I dare say he'll never find it out."
"Is there anything else I can send him?" asked Abel. " My
housekeeper would make him broths or jellies. We have more
convenience here than you can have."
Ivindulpli -win and Ms n
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 227
"And more means as well," replied Jacob; "I wont say no,
for we really are hardly put to it to treat him as he should be
treated. And only think of him, rollin' in wealth, and yet denyin
himself the common comforts of existence the necessaries, I
may say, at a time like this. And then to be indebted to you
for 'em, sir you of all people in the world."
" Take care he never knows it, nor even suspects it," said
Abel, hastily.
" Never fear, sir," replied Jacob ; " he shall learn nothin' from
me. But he'll never ask."
" I suppose I cannot be of any assistance to your young lady,
Jacob ?" said Mrs. Crew.
" I fear not, ma'am," replied Jacob. " My poor young missis
has a hard task to go through, but she must fulfil it. And
brighter days, I hope, are in store for her."
Abel then rang the bell, and gave instructions to Mr. Jukes,
who, taking Jacob to his pantry, brought the wine and brandy
his master had ordered, and fifled a can with mutton broth for
him.
"You shall have some nice chicken broth to-morrow," said
the butler; "and in the meantime, this will be better than
nothing."
" I should think so," replied Jacob.
During the few minutes which it had taken the butler to go to
the cellar, Jacob had found time to dig deep into a steak pie,
and to empty a quart mug of ale; but he now started up, put
the brandy into one capacious pocket, and the wine into the
other, and taking up the can of broth, set off at his quickest
pace to the Little Sanctuary.
He came daily for a fresh supply of broth, which he said, and
with perfect truth, was the main support of his master. Abel
always saw him for a few minutes when he came, and listened
with the greatest interest to his accounts of the miser's pro-
ceedings. Jacob told him of Diggs's visit, and of his suspicion
that he had made his will ; and concluded by mentioning the
sum of money which the attorney had carried away.
This account perplexed and troubled Abel exceedingly, and
he muttered " I must make some inquiries about Diggs, and
try to find out what he does with the money. I hope this
wretched old man has not put the crowning act to his folly, and
left his property away from his daughter."
" God forbid !" exclaimed Jacob. " But there's no sayin'
what he may do. I wish you would see him, sir."
u I would see him if I thought it would do any good," re-
plied Abel ; " but I apprehend my interference would only be
productive of harm. I must see him before all is over. We
have an account to settle together."
" Then you'd better not put it off too long," replied Jacob.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Abel, however, could not muster up resolution for the painful
scene which he expected to encounter; until one evening as
he was sitting after dinner over his wine, with his sister, Ran-
dulph, and Trussell Jacob, who had been there before in the
morning, came to inform him that the miser had been so unwell
all day, and so fanciful and light-headed, that if he wished to
have any communication with him while he was in his right
mind, he had better not postpone his visit. Abel then decided
upon going at once, and accordingly proceeded with Jacob to
the Little Sanctuary, where he had the short and painful inter-
view with the miser, detailed in the preceding chapter.
By this time Randulph was able to go abroad. One of his
earliest visits was to Sir Norfolk Salusbury, who was delighted
to see him, and shook him cordially by the hand, repeating what
he had previously stated, that he thought he had conducted him-
self admirably in the affair of the duel. Sir Norfolk then began
to talk of the miser's illness, and deplored the position of his
'daughter, adding that he had been several times to call upon
him, but had always been denied admittance. While they were
thus conversing, Sir Bulkeley Price was announced. Like Sir
Norfolk, he appeared greatly pleased to see Randulph abroad
again, and offered his congratulations.
"Villiers was out before you, Mr. Crew," he said; "I had a
visit from him yesterday; but he still wears his arm in a sling,
probably because he thinks it becoming. He came to entreat
me to offer his apologies to Miss Scarve, and to express his com-
punction for his conduct. He was incited to it, he declares, by
the violence of his passion for her ; but he is now entirely cured,
and is heartily ashamed of his conduct."
" He said as much to me," added Sir Norfolk.
" He also expressed himself most handsomely about you, Mr.
Crew," pursued Sir Bulkeley; "and said he was extremely glad
the duel had terminated in the way it did. I hope, therefore,
you will be better friends than ever."
" We may be better friends, because we shall probably see less
of each other," said Randulph, laughing. ef However, it is plea-
sant to have such flattering things said of one by an adversary."
Shortly afterwards, the party left Abingdon-street, and pro-
ceeded to the Mall in Saint James's-park, where they met Beau
Villiers, Lady Brabazon, and Clementina, together with their
.constant attendant, Sir Singleton Spinke. Viliiers, whose right
arm was sustained by a scarf, immediately held forth his disen-
gaged hand to Randulph, and passed so many encomiums upon
his courage and address, that the latter must have been made of
stubborn material indeed to be insensible to them. His gene-
rous nature was sensibly touched, and he began to think he had
done the beau an injustice. Lady Brabazon, too, exerted her
utmost witchery, and told him, with a captivating smile, " that if
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER 229
he consulted his good looks, he would fight a duel and get
wounded once a month, as he now looked handsomer than
ever.
The interview ended in Randulph accepting an invitation to
dine the next day with Lady Brabazon. Trussell was enchanted.
Accident, and a combination of circumstances, had accomplished
precisely what he desired. As to Randulph, he was annoyed
with himself for having made the engagement; but it was now
too late to retract. He felt somewhat embarrassed as to how to
communicate the matter to his mother; but Trussell relieved
him of the difficulty, and, on their return home, gave a lively
and diverting account of the meeting in the park, and said it had
led to a reconciliation dinner, which was to take place at Lady
Brabazon's on the following day.
"I hope the dinner may not lead to another quarrel," said
Abel.
" I hope so too," replied Mrs. Crew. " I wish you would dis-
continue your intimacy with Lady Brabazon, Randulph, I can-
not endure her."
" I do not intend to continue it to the same extent as before,*
said Randulph ; " but it was impossible to refuse the present
invitation."
"Quite impossible!" echoed Trussell "never was anything
so handsome as Villiers's apologies."
"Pshaw I" exclaimed Abel; " they are as little to be trusted
as himself."
"I don't think so in the present case," said Randulph.
" You may take my word for it, you are deceived," rejoined
Abel. And here the conversation dropped.
The next day, soon after five o'clock, Randulph and his uncle
crossed from the Palace Stairs to Westminster, and shaped their
course towards the Little Sanctuary. Trussell wished to call for
a new peruke which he had ordered from Peter Pokerich ; and
while he stepped into the little barber's to try it on, Randulph
proceeded to the other side of the street to make inquiries after
the miser and his daughter.
" He's as bad as he can be," said Jacob, who answered his
knock, shaking his head; "and I'm afraid this constant watchin'
will be too much for Miss Hilda. I want to have a word with
you, but I can't stop just now, for I'm wanted. Where shall you
be to-night ?"
" I'm going to dine with Lady Brabazon in Pall Mall," re-
plied Randulph. "I shall leave about ten, and will call here on
in}' way home."
"No; I'll step up to her ladyship's at ten," rejoined Jacob;
"and I'll wait till you come out. W T e may have somethin' to do
together."
With this, he closed the door, and Randulph walked across
230 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
the street to Peter Pokerich's. At the same moment, a cha7r
was seen advancing along the street, which stopped at Mr.
Deacle's, and being opened, let forth Sir Singleton Spinke, very
gaily dressed, who skipped into the mercer's shop. Having
witnessed the old beau's entrance, Randulph turned into the
barber's and told his uncle what had occurred.
" Sir Singleton must be gone to pay court to the fair Thoma-
sine," said Trussell, laughing.
On hearing this remark, Peter, without saying a word, darted
out of the shop, and hurried to the neighbouring house. Trussell
was at first disposed to be angry, but on reflecting on the pro-
bable cause of the barber's sudden flight, he burst into a loud
laugh.
" Let us go and see what happens," he said, arranging his wig.
The little barber, meanwhile, had entered the mercer's shop.
There was no one in attendance in front but an apprentice, who
did not notice him. He accordingly stepped lightly and quickly
towards the door of the inner room, which was left ajar, enabling
;him to hear what passed within, while the upper half being
glazed, and partly covered by a green silk blind, showed him that
the speakers were Sir Singleton and his mistress. The old beau
was on his knees, while the fair Thomasine had abandoned her
hand to him, though she averted her looks from him ; owing to
which circumstance, she did not discover the jealous eyes of the
barber glaring at her through the window. As to Peter, he
tugged at his wig with jealous rage, and would have plucked
handfuls of hair from it, if it would have yielded; but being
stoutly made, it resisted his efforts bravely.
" I will not rise till I have a favourable answer, adorable Tho-
masine !" said Sir Singleton. " Will you be mine ? will you fly
with me ?"
" I cannot," replied the fair Thomasine, turning round with
such suddenness that the little barber had barely time to duck
-down to escape observation. " I cannot. I have already told
you a hundred times, I am engaged to Peter Pokerich."
" I will cut the little rascal's throat i" cried Sir Singleton,
rising, and clapping his hand on his sword. " I will belabour
him with his own pole."
" No, don't !" said the fair Thomasine " I should go dis-
tracted, like Ophelia, if any harm were to happen to him. Poor
Peter is so very fond of me so very, very fond ! At erne time,
he was a little inconstant, to be sure slightly dazzled by the
charms of the miser's lovely daughter. But latterly, he has become
quite devoted."
" He cannot love you a thousandth part as well as I love you,"
said the old beau " it is not in his vulgar nature. Besides, I
can make you Lady Spinke can put you at the head of a
gplendid establishment cover you with diamonds introduce
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 231
yon to the first society take you every night to some fine lady's
drum to Ranclagh to Vauxhall to the playhouses."
" It sounds delightful, indeed !" said the fair Thomasine, whose
eyes sparkled at the beau's enumeration of the pleasures he had
in store for her. "But will you really make me Lady Spinke r"
" I swear it !" cried the old beau. " Oh ! you are mine !
say you are mine !"
" No, you're too old for me !" said the fair Thomasine. " I
don't think I could marry you."
The unhappy barber, who had almost sunk into the floor, here
revived again.
" Too old," exclaimed Sir Singleton. " Why, I'm in the very
prime of life. But gran ting that I am old, you'll the sooner be a
widow. Lady Spinke, with a large jointure think of that !"
" A large jointure is very tempting, certainly," said the fair
Thomasine, musingly.
" You can't hesitate, I am sure, my charmer," cried the old
beau, "between the brilliant life I hold out to you, and the
wretched one you will be condemned to with your little barber.
Give him up at once. Leave him to his wigs, his pomatum, his
powder-pufr', and his blocks, and let him marry some barmaid, or
serving-woman, the only creatures fit for him."
" Lady Singleton Spinke and Mrs. Peter Pokerich do sound
very differently," said the fair Thomasine. " I should mightily
like to be called * your ladyship.' "
" So would most women, but it isn't every one who has the
opportunity," rejoined the old beau.
" But then I must have a fine gilt coach ?" pursued the fair
Thomasine.
" It is yours," replied Sir Singleton.
" And beautiful dresses ?" she continued.
" As many as you like," he answered, " I'll buy your father's
whole stock of silks."
" And magnificent diamonds ?"
" Equal to a duchess's."
"And I shall go to court ?"
" You shall."
"And to Ranelagh, Vauxhall, and the playhouses?"
" As often as you please."
" Well, then, I almost but oh dear ! it would be so wrong
no, I can't consent. 'Twould break my Peter's heart/'
%e Peter's heart will soon be mended again," replied Sir Sin-
gleton. " I'll have a coach and four at the corner of the street
at five o'clock to-morrow morning; and then we'll drive a few
miles out of town for an airing, and return to breakfast and to
the Fleet, where we'll be married."
" Don't expect me, I never can make up my mind to so fear-
ful a step, said the fair Thomasine, pathetically, yet undccisively.
2S2 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Well, 1 shall be there, at all events," said the old beau, press-
ing her hand to his lips. Farewell. At five."
The little barber had heard enough. He darted off like a
madman, and almost upset Trussell and Randulph, who, as well
as himself, had overheard what passed. The next moment, the
old beau issued forth, singing a French song, and twirling his
cane gaily.
"Ah I" he exclaimed, perceiving Trussell and Randulph,
" what the deuce brings you here ?"
" VVe came to look after the little barber, who ran away,
leaving my wig only half dressed," replied Trussell. " He has
just rushed out of this shop as if he had gone distracted."
" The devil !" exclaimed Sir Singleton ; " then he has over-
heard my plan. I must change it."
And stepping back to the fair Thomasine, he whispered,,
" Peter Pokerich has been playing the spy upon us. He may
interfere with our arrangements. To night at twelve, instead of
to-morrow morning at five. Till then, ma belle, adieu !" and
kissing his hand to her, he rejoined his friends.
"You are both going to Lady Brab's, I suppose?" he said.
" Sorry I can't take you we shall meet again in a few minutes."
So saying, and strutting off triumphantly, he entered his chair,
and was conveyed to Lady Brabazon's, where Randulph and his
uncle arrived a few minutes after him.
The dinner passed off delightfully. It was a small party, con-
sisting of Sir Bulkeley Price, Sir Norfolk Salusbury, and Lady
Fazakerly. Everything was done to please Randulph, and the
efforts were perfectly successful. The wine flowed freely after
dinner for it was a hard drinking age and Randulph, who had
been exceedingly temperate since the duel, began to feel the
effect of it. As he was about to ascend to the drawing-room
with the rest of the gentlemen, a note was handed him by a
servant, which he instantly opened.
" What says your billet, nephew ?" inquired Trussell, who was
standing by.
" Oh ! it's from Kitty Conway," said Randulph. " She has
found out, I know not how, that I am here, and wishes me to
sup with her to-night for the last time."
" And you will go, wont you?" said Trussell.
" Not I," replied Randulph, irresolutely.
" Oh yes, you will," said Trussell ; " and I'll accompany you
on your last visit, as I did on the first."
And they went up stairs laughingly to the drawing-room.
Time passed by so fleetly in the fascinating society of Lady
Brabazon, that Randulph was surprised, on glancing at his watch,
to find it nearly eleven o'clock.
"Jacob will be gone," he thought, "and will think I have
forgotten him."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 233
Hastily taking leave of Lady Brabazon, who chided him play-
fully for running away so early, and engaged him to call upon,
her on the following morning, he went down stairs, accompanied
by Trussell. They found Jacob at the door, and in no very
bland humour at having been kept so long.
" My time's more than up," said the latter, gruffly, "and I was
just goin' away. What I want to say is this, I've received a
hint that master's miserly nevy, Philip Frewin, is about to
decamp with the money I gave Mr. Diggs t'other day. He's at
the Crown Inn, Ox-yard, King-street. Suppose you pay him a
visit."
" I'll readily do so to-morrow, Jacob," said Randulph ; " but
to-night I'm engaged. Come along with me. My way lies in
the same direction as yours, and I want to talk to you about
your master and young mistress."
Jacob complied, and accompanied Randulph to the corner of
Hedge-lane, a narrow thoroughfare running into Cockspur-street,
where he took his leave. Randulph and his uncle then tracked
the lane above mentioned, until they came to Whitcornb-street,.
where Kitty Con way then resided, having removed from the
Uaymarket to an old house in the latter street, erected three
years after the great Fire of London namely, 1669. Never
having visited the pretty actress in her new abode, but having
been told in the note that this date, which was inscribed in
large figures on a shield over the door, would guide him to it,
Randulph was looking out for the house, when he observed three
men at a little distance behind him, who seemed to be dogging
him and his uncle. The foremost was a tall, thin man ; the
second a stout, square-set personage, attired in a shabby military
garb ; and the third a great hulking fellow with an atrociously
black muzzle, dressed in a bluejacket, short trousers, and woollen*
cap.
Randulph could not help fancying he had seen these personages
before, though he could not tell where, but he did not concern
himself much about them, until just as he had discovered Kitty
Con way's dwelling, and was about to knock at the door, he saw
that they were quickening their pace towards him. On a nearer
approach, he was at no loss to detect Philip Frewin ; and in his-
companions, Captain Culpepper, and the fellow who had officiated
as Jack-in-the-water at the Folly on the Thames.
" Here is your man I" shouted Philip, pointing out Randulph
to the others ; " upon him I don't leave an unbroken bone in his-
body."
Randulph, however, was prepared for the attack. Grasping
the stout cane he held in his hand, he dealt Philip so severe a
blow on the head with it that he stretched him on his back on
the ground. At the same moment, Trussell received a blow
irom the cudgel of the athletic sailor, which sent him reeling
234 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
against the door, to the posts of which he clung for support,
while the ruffian turning to assault Randolph, encountered an
unexpected adversary in the person of Jacob Post.
ie I thought what you were after, you scoundrels, when I saw
you doggin' these gen'l'men," cried Jacob; "I'm glad I got up
in time. Turn your cudgel this way, you black-muzzled hound I
Two can play at your game."
While Jacob and his antagonist rapped away at each other as
hard as they could, making the welkin ring with their blows,
Randulph turned upon Culpepper, who attempted to draw his
sword to assail him, and belaboured him so lustily with his cane*
that the latter was soon fain to cry for quarter.
The sound of the cudgels, and the vociferations of the com^
batants, had alarmed the watch, who sprang their rattles, and
hastened to the scene of strife, while Kitty Conway, hearing the
noise, opened a window above, and seeing what was passing in
the street, added her shrieks to the general clamour.
Before, however, the watch could come up, Jacob had brought
his athletic antagonist to the ground, and Culpepper had taken
to his heels without being able to strike a single blow.
CHAPTER VI.
BY WHAT DEVICE PHILIP FKEWIN GOT OFF; AND HOW KANDULPH AND TRUSSELL
WERE LOCKED UP IN THE WATCH-HOUSE.
SEEING no chance of escape, Philip Frewin suddenly started to
his feet, and running towards the watchman, plucked off his wig
to show the extent of the injuries he had received, and charged
the others with assaulting him.
"My skull's fractured, I believe," he cried; "and if you
hadn't come up, I dare say I should have been killed outright.
"There," pointing to Randulph, "stands the ruffian who knocked
me down."
"You yourself commenced the assault, scoundrel," replied
Randulph, stepping forward ; " and if you have been severely
punished, you have only met with your clesert."
" The subterfuge shall not serve your turn, villain," rejoined
Philip. " Secure him, watchman. I'll swear he meant to rob
and murder me."
" This is a serious charge, sir," said the watchman to Ran-
dulph ; "and if the gen'l'man persists in it, I must take you in
custody. I was in hopes, and so was you, Charley, wasn't you?"
he added, appealing to the other watchman, who replied by a
confirmatory grunt " that it was only a bit of a fight between
gentlefolk about a girl, or some trifling matter of the sort,
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 235
and that it might be set to rights by a bowl of punch among
'em.-elves, and a crown or so to us poor fellows. But this is
another matter altogether."
"What has been stated is utterly false," replied Randulph.
" I was walking quietly along with my relative, who has sustained
quite as much personal damage as any one in the fray, when this
scoundrel, accompanied by two other ruffians, suddenly attacked
me ; and if it had not been for the assistance of that stout porter,"
pointing to Jacob Post, "I might not now be in a condition to
give an explanation of the affair."
"The young geriTman speaks the truth, watchman," inter-
posed Jacob ; " if there's been any robbery and assault intended,
it hasn't been on his part."
" You wont listen to what the fellow says, watchman !" cried
Philip; "he's one of the gang."
" He has a jail-bird look, certainly," said the foremost, holding
up his lantern to Jacob's face. " I declare I'm quite perplexed
by these contradictory statements, Charley. I s'pose the best
plan will be to take 'em all to the watchus ?"
" I reckon so, Sam," replied the other.
" I sha'n't go !" cried Jacob, gruffly. " What'll become of my
poor master, if I don't go home ?"
(e You hear what he says, watchman ?" cried Philip. " He
wants to be off. Secure him."
" Ay, ay, never fear !" cried the watchman, throwing himself
on Jacob. " Spring the rattle, Charley."
His comrade obeyed, and by this time a little crowd being
collected, Jacob was secured, and Randulph surrounded and
made prisoner. Trussell having partly recovered from the effects
of the blow, was likewise seized, and the black-muzzled Jack,
who appeared much injured, was also lifted up, and supported
between two men.
After some further objurgation and discussion, the foremost
watchman gave the word to move on, when the door of the
house near them opened, and Kitty Conway rushed forth, and
made her way through the crowd, to Randulph.
" This is all a mistake I" she cried to the watchmen ; " you
are taking away the wrong persons. This gentleman, Mr. Ran-
dulph Crew, was coming to sup with me. I was expecting him,
and hearing a noise in the street, opened my window, and wit-
nessed the affray."
" Well, and what did you see, madam what did you see ?"
demanded Philip, fiercely.
"I saw Randulph Crew knock you down," replied Kitty.
" To be sure," replied Philip ; " he did knock me down, and
would have killed me if he could. This woman's evidence cor-
roborates my statement, watchman."
" But I heard from the shouts that you were the first assailant,
236 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Philip," replied Kitty. " Besides, Captain Ctilpepper was with
you, though he was beaten off by Randulph."
" Don't Philip me, ma'am !" cried the other ; " I don't know
yon, and don't desire to know yon neither do I know anything
of Captain Culpepper. You want to get off your friend, that's
evident, but it wont do. He'll pass the night in the watch-
house, instead of supping with you. Go on, watchman !"
" You are worse even that I thought you, Philip !" cried Kitty,
in tones of the strongest contempt.
" I shouldn't mind being locked up in the watch-house," said
Jacob ; " but what'll my young missis think of it ? what'll
become of my poor master? If anythin' happens to him, I shall
never forgive myself. I wish somebody would take a message
from me to Miss Scarve in the Little Sanctuary, it would make
me more easy."
" I will take it," said Kitty ; " and will explain all."
" You !" exclaimed Jacob. " No ; that'll never do." But
before he could get out the latter part of the speech, Kitty had
retired, and he was forced away by his captors.
The party took the direction of Piccadilly, Philip Frewin
walking by the side of Sam, the foremost watchman, who kept
fast hold of his arm, and the others following. As they drew
near the top of the Haymarket, Philip said in a low tone to the
watchman, " You'll make more out of this job by letting me oro,
i i i
than by detaining me/
" Which way?" asked Sam, in the same tone.
" Here are five guineas," replied Philip, slipping a purse into
the other's hand; "contrive my escape, and that of the black-
muzzled fellow in the sailor's dress."
Sam held the money to the light, and saw that it was all right.
" Pll manage it," he said. " So the charge you preferred
against them t'others was all gammon, eh ?"
" To be sure," replied Philip ; " but keep them safely under
lock and key till to-morrow morning, and Pll double what Pve
just given you. You'll find me on this spot to-morrow night at
ten."
" That'll do," replied Sam. ee And here we're at the top o' the
Haymarket. Give me a push, and then make off as fast as you
can. Pll take care of the rest. Your black-muzzled friend shall
get his liberty by-and-by."
Philip obeyed these instructions to the letter. Turning sud-
denly upon the watchman, and thrusting him forcibly backwards,
he set off as fast as his legs could carry him. Sam instantly
started in pursuit, calling loudly to his brethren to take care of
the other prisoners; but he returned a few minutes afterwards,
out of breath, and swearing that the fellow had managed to
get off.
Feigning to be in a verv ill-humour, he returned a surlv reply
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER, 937
to Randulph'a remarks on his carelessness, and hurried the pri-
soners along until they reached Air-street, where the watch-house
was situated. The door was instantly opened by a constable,
with whom Sam exchanged a few words in an undertone : after
which the prisoners were led down a narrow, dirty passage, and
thrust into a filthy -look ing hole, furnished only with a couple of
benches, on which some half-dozen persons of very equivocal
appearance were seated. Sam then, for the first time, appeared
to notice the absence of the black-muzzled Jack, and inquiring
where he was, was told that he had also contrived to escape.
" Escaped ! has he ?" cried Sam, affecting to be in a great
passion. " Odds-my-life ! they slip out of one's fingers like eeb.
However, these three are safe enough, that's some comfort."
" If our accuser is gone," cried Randulph, looking round the
chamber with inexpressible disgust, "why are we detained?"
" You're detained on a serious charge," replied Sam ; " and I
can't take upon me to let you go. But I'll fetch Mr. Foggo, the
constable, and if he likes to liberate you, that'll be his concern."
So saying, he went forth with his comrades, locking the door
nfter him.
" An agreeable situation, uncle," said Randulph to Trussell,
who had seated himself on the extremity of one of the benches.
" Agreeable indeed !" echoed Trussell, with a groan. " Oh,
my poor head !"
" What 'ud my dear young missis, or your good mother think
of us, if they could see us in this place, and with this company ?"
whispered Jacob. " I'd rather have got a cracked crown myself
than Mrs. Conway should call on Miss Hilda."
" So would I," rejoined Randulph.
u Come, come, no grumbling," cried Trussell, rousing himself.
" I'm the greatest sufferer, after all. Everything will be set right
in the morning, and in the meantime, let's pass the night as com-
fortably as we can. It's not the first time I've been in a watch-
house. Depend upon it, we sha'n't be liberated ; but I'll engage
to say we can get a better room than this."
And so it turned out. In about ten minutes, Sam made his
appearance, with Mr. Foggo, who said he could not discharge
the prisoners till they had been before a magistrate.
" Can't you give us a little better accommodation, Mr. Foggo?"
asked Trussell, slipping a guinea into his hand.
The constable said nothing, but took them into a back room,
furnished with a small deal table, and three or four rush-bottomed
chairs.
" This is a parlour after my poor master's own heart," said
Jacob, looking at the bare walls and grated windows.
" Anything I can get for you, genTmen ?" asked the con-
stable, as he set a light on the table.
" I suppose we must stay here all night, Mr. Foggo ?" observed
233 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Trussell. " We're family men and our ladies will be exces-
sively distressed at our absence."
" Sorry for it, sir, but you must stay," replied the constable.
" If you desire it, I dare say I can so manage it that you sha'n't
come before his worship. And in the meantime, though it's
against rules, but I don't mind obliging gentlemen, if, I say,
a bowl of punch would be agreeable "
" A bowl of punch, by all means !" cried Trussell ; " here's
money for it," he added, giving him another guinea.
"I see you understand our ways, sir," said the constable, bow-
ing. And he left the room.
u Come, don't be downcast, my boy I" cried Trussell, clapping
his nephew on the shoulder, "we shall have a jolly night of it^
after all. My head is getting better every minute. If Hilda
and your mother do hear of your adventure, they'll only laugh
at it. I've been locked up a dozen times or more in my younger
days, and hope I shall be again. So cheer up, my boy. Your
initiation into life would have been incomplete without this
occurrence."
Randulph could not help responding to his uncle's laugh, and
Mr. Foggo shortly after appearing with a bowl of excellent
punch, he began to think that the best way was to make himself
comfortable. Jacob, too, yielded to the genial influence of the
liquor, and ere long they were all laughing as merrily as if they
had been at large. The bowl of punch discussed, Trussell dis-
posed himself to slumber in his chair; Jacob stretched himself
at full length on the floor; and Randulph, having paced the
chamber for some time, dropped asleep likewise.
CHAPTER VII.
KITTY CONWAY AND THE LITTLE BARBER PLAY A TRICK UPON THE FAIR THOMASINE
SIR SINGLETON SPINKE IS DELUDED INTO A MARRIAGE WITH THE PRETTY
ACTRESS AT TEE FLEET.
KITTY CONWAY was as good as her word. Scarcely had th-c
watchmen departed with their prisoners than she set out for the
Little Sanctuary. With a beating heart, and trembling hand,
she knocked at the miser's door; but her summons remained
unanswered, and she was about to repeat it, when a little man
crossed the street and addressed her.
" Mr. Scarve is very ill, ma'am," said the little man ; " dan-
gerously ill."
" So I've heard," replied Kitty. " I wish I could make them
hear," she added, knocking again, and waiting vainly for an
answer.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 239
** I fcnr you've come on a fruitless errand," said the little man,
who still remained standing near her; " the porter is from home."
" I know it I know it," replied Kitty, hastily. " He has
oeen taken to the watch-house. I want to see Miss Scarve, to
ell her so."
" What !" exclaimed the other, starting. " Jacob Post taken
to the watch-house. This is an extraordinary event. Would,"
he added, with a groan, " that another person I could mention
were taken there, too!"
" And pray who may be the person implied by your amiable
wish ?" asked Kitty.
u Sir Singleton Spinke," replied the little man. " Do you
know him, ma'am?"
" Perfectly well," replied Kitty.
" Then you don't require to be told what a dreadful old rake
he is," replied the other ; " nor will you wonder at my resent-
ment against him, when I tell you he has attempted to run away
with my betrothed."
u Your betrothed !" exclaimed Kitty. " Pray what is her
name ?"
" She is generally denominated the fair Thomasine," replied
the other ; ** but perhaps I ought to call her Miss Deacle."
" Ah ! then I know who you are, my little friend," rejoined
Kitty; "you are Peter Pokench, the barber."
" Right, madam," he replied, " I am that unfortunate indi-
vidual."
" And how docs Sir Singleton mean to rob you of your
mistress? let me hear," asked Kitty.
" He has made her an offer of marriage," replied Peter, " and
she has accepted him perfidious that she is ! I asked her to
sup with me to-night, for the last time, that I might have an
opportunity of upbraiding her, and she has accepted the invita-
tion. I'm waiting for her now, for she cant get out till the old
people go to bed."
As he spoke, the mercer's door opened, and a female figure
issued from it.
" There she is, I declare !" cried the little barber. " I'm so
angry with her for her treachery, that I could almost kill her."
" bon't think of such nonsense," replied Kitty. " If you want
to revenge yourself I'll tell you how to do it. Pretend to make
love to me."
"That's easily done," replied the barber. "Permit me to
take your hand. I'll affect not to see the deceitful little hussy.
Let me entreat you, madam," he added, putting on an impas-
sioned air, " to come in with me. We can converse so much
more pleasantly than in the street. Somebody may over-
hear us."
" Somebody does overhear you, you little wretch !" cried the
210 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
fair Thomasine, stopping. " Good gracious ! if he isn't making
love to the woman. I wonder who she can be."
"She sees us," whispered Kitty; "the plan will do. I'll
feign reluctance. Oh, no, I can't go in with you," she added,
irresolutely.
" I beseech you, do," replied Peter. " I expected a visit from
a neighbour, Miss Thomasine Deacle, and I've prepared a
little supper for her; but I wont wait."
" And so you want me to take her place ?" cried Kitty. " Very
flattering, indeed 1 I dare say you'll try to persuade me next,
that you prefer me to her."
u So J do !" cried Peter ; " I prefer you incomparably. You're
a thousand times prettier than she is."
"I shall burst with rage!" cried the fair Thomasine. "I
<?ould tear his disagreeable little eyes out."
" Well, since you're so pressing, I'll just go in for a moment,**
said Kitty; " but I wont sit down and as to supper
" You'll just eat a mouthful ?" replied Peter.
" Oh, I've no doubt she'll enjoy herself nicely !" said the fair
Thomasine ; " but I'll spoil their pastime that I will !"
" This way, madam !" cried Peter, handing the pretty actress
towards his dwelling.
" She's close behind us!" whispered Kitty; " contrive to let
her get in without observation."
Peter signified his assent in a whisper, and pretending to offer
the most gallant attentions to the actress, left the door purposely
open. Unconscious of the trick practised upon her, the fair
Thomasine slipped in after them, and hid herself behind a large
wooden case, on which several wig-blocks were set.
Having caught a glimpse of what had occurred, Kitty squeezed
Peter's hand to let him know how matters stood, and he imme-
diately took the hint.
" I declare I've left the door open," he said, locking it ; " how
excessively careless in me ! The fair Thomasine might get in,
-and surprise us."
" She has been beforehand with you, sir," muttered the
young lady alluded to, looking up for an instant from behind the
case.
" And now, ma'am," said Peter, lighting a couple of candles,
and placing them on the table, on which cold chickens and other
viands were laid, " you'll take a little supper with me ?"
" Well, it looks so nice that it almost tempts me," said Kitty,
seating herself. " I think I could manage the wing of a chicken."
Having helped her as she required, Peter ran to a cupboard,
and brought out a bottle of wine.
" This is some delicious Constantia which I got for the fair
Thomasine," he said, pouring out a glass ; " but I'm glad you'll
drink it instead of her."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Here's to our absent friends," said Kitty, taking the glass.
" I pledge you," rejoined the little barber ; " though I should
be sorry to change my present friend for any absent one."
' Oh. the horrid, deceitful little monster !" cried the fair Tho-
masine. " He was never half so gallant to me."
*< By-the-bye, ma'am," said Peter, "your beauty has so fas-
cinated me that I've omitted to ask your name?"
" It is Kitty Conway," replied the lady.
" What, Mrs. Conway, the pretty actress of the Haymarket?"
cried Peter.
" The same," she replied. " And so, old Sir Singleton Spinke
is about to take Miss Deacle off your hands, eh?"
"I believe so," replied Peter; "and I wish him joy of his
bargain ha I ha I and her of hers, too ! She wont know a day's
happiness after she becomes Lady Spinke. Now, / should have
made her a good husband a really good husband for I was
devotedly attached to her. But some people don't know what's
good for them. However, I'm delighted things have turned out
in this way I've made a capital change. Here's to our better
acquaintance," he added, filling the glasses again.
"The amorous little wretch will get tipsy, and propose to her,
I expect," said the fair Thomasinc.
" Sir Singleton Spinke, as I told you, is an old friend of mine,"
said Kitty Conway ; " he paid me great attention, and, if I had
chosen, I might have been Lady Spinke; but I knew better
ha ! ha !"
" I hope your objection was to Sir Singleton, and not to the
married state," said Peter. " You're not sworn to single blessed-
ness, I trust ?"
' I have never given the matter serious consideration," replied,
the actress.
" Then do so now," replied Peter, stepping forward and
throwing himself at her feet; "oh! be mine! be mine, sweet
Kitty ! I've no gilt coach to offer you, like Sir Singleton no
ocautiful dresses, no magnificent diamonds. I can't take you to
court in the morning, and to Ranelagh, Vauxhall, or some fine
lady's drum in the evening. I've no temptations to hold out.
But I can offer you sincere affection a comfortable home and
a young husband. Yes, a young husband ! I'm not a battered
old beau, but a smart, dapper little fellow, of two-and-twenty,
well worth any woman's notice. If that don't sting her, I've
done," he added, in a lower tone.
" You certainly appear very amiable," said Kitty, with diffi-
culty keeping her countenance, " and, though small, are reason-
ably good-looking.
kt Answer me," cried the little barber, passionately " or let
me snatch a reply from your honeyed lips."
"I can stand this no longer," cried the fair Thomasine*
B
242 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
And bursting from her concealment, she ran up to Peter, and
boxed his ears soundly.
" There 1 take that and that !" she cried " that'll teach you
to make love to other ladies before my eyes."
" Halloa, madam ! what do you mean by this ?" cried Peter,
rubbing his cheek. " How the deuce did you get into the room?
through the key-hole ?"
" No matter how I got in," replied the fair Thomasine. " I've
seen all that has passed, and heard all you've said. I'm astonished
at you, Peter. How can you look me in the face after the
shocking things you've said of me behind my back ? But don't
think I mind them, any more than the loss of your affection. I
sha'n't bestow another thought upon you. As to you, madam
" Well, madam !" exclaimed Kitty, calmly.
" May you be happy with him that's all I have to say," con-
tinued the fair Thomasine, hysterically. " May you love him as
much as I could have loved him ; and may you never repent inter-
fering with the happiness of another !"
" Come, I like this, Miss Thomasine," said Peter. ee It's very
well for you to talk of interfering with the happiness of another ;
but didn't I see you listening to the addresses of that odious old
'beau didn't I see him kiss your hand didn't I hear you pro-
mise to run away with him didn't I hear and see all this ?
Answer me that !"
" I will not deny that I was foolish enough to listen to Sir
Singleton's addresses," replied the fair Thomasine, with dignity ;
"for the strongest of our sex is not proof against vanity. But
I never assented to his proposal; or if I did so, it was only
pretence."
" Oh, say that again, dearest Tommy say it again !" cried
Peter, delightedly.
" It was all pretence I never meant to marry him !" repeated
the fair Thomasine.
" You make me the happiest of barbers," cried Peter, catching
her in his arms, and pressing her to his bosom.
" Mercy on us ! what's this ?" exclaimed the fair Thomasine,
extricating herself from his embrace, and assuming a cold de-
meanour. " I thought you preferred this lady to me ?"
" That was all a pretence, too," replied Peter. (e The trick
has succeeded to a miracle. We both of us knew you were
behind that case."
" Ah ! if I had only been aware of that !" cried the fair Tho-
masine.
" It's very well you were not, in my opinion, Miss Deacle,"
said Kitty Conway. te I here restore you your lover, and assure
you I never had a wish to rob you of him. And now, wont you
sit down to supper with us?"
Peter instantly set a chair for her, placed the wing of a chicken
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 243
on her plate, poured out a glass of Constantia, and the party were
soon as merry as possible. During a pause in the conversation,
they heard a watchman go past, and cry the hour.
k ' Three quarters past eleven," said the fair Thomasine ; " the
old beau promised to come for me at twelve."
" I thought it was at six o'clock to-morrow morning ?" said
Peter.
" No, twelve to-night," replied the fair Thomasine. " Finding
you had overheard him, he altered the time. We were to be
married at the Fleet."
" It's a pity to disappoint him," observed Kitty, laughingly.
" How !" exclaimed Peter and the fair Thomasine, simulta-
neously.
" He ought to have a wife, since he has made up his mind to
commit the rash act of matrimony," rejoined Kitty. " A plan
just occurs to me. I'll take your place, Miss Deacle that is,
I'll disguise myself like you conceal my features in a mask, and
he'll never know the difference."
" Capital !" exclaimed Peter ; " that will be turning the tables
upon him with a vengeance."
" I'll lend you my columbine's dress," said the fair Thomasine ;
" it will just fit you and my mask. Come with me. You haven't
a moment to spare."
"The quicker the better," said Kitty; "for if I give myself
time for reflection, I sha'n't do it."
They then hurried away, and Peter having helped himself to
another glass of Constantia, and put out the candles, followed
them, and concealed himself in an alley near the mercer's
dwelling, where he could see, unobserved, all that passed.
Punctually as the Abbey clock struck twelve, the sound of
wheels was heard a carriage drew up at the corner, and the
next moment, the old beau was seen cautiously advancing on the
opposite side of the street. Finding the coast clear, he advanced
towards the mercer's door, and tapped against it. It was partially
opened, and a low voice inquired from within "Is it you?"
" Yes, it's me, my angel," replied the old beau ; " Sir Singleton
Spinke your devoted admirer !"
"I'm quite ready," 'replied the speaker, stepping forth, and
looking exactly like the fair Thomasine dressed for the mas-
querade at Ranelagh.
" Why, you've got on your columbine's dress," said Sir Sin-
gleton, approvingly.
" It's the prettiest I have," replied the lady; "and I thought
you would like me better in it than in any other."
"You couldn't have made a better choice," replied the old
beau ; " in fact, you couldn't choose amiss. By why that envious
mask ?"
"I put it on to hide my blushes," replied the other; "nor
R2
244 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
shall I remove it till we are united. But you must drive to the
Fleet at once I'll go nowhere else."
"1 don't desire you to do so, my angel," replied the old beau;
t{ the parson is in attendance, and in less than half an hour we
shall be man and wife."
" Have you no scruple in taking me from poor Peter Pokerich?"
said the lady.
"None whatever," replied the old beau. "I wish the little
perruquier could be present at our marriage it would complete
his mortification."
" Well, there's no saying what may happen," replied the other,
significantly; "but we've stood chattering here long enough,
and may be observed."
With this, she gave her hand to her admirer, who led her to
the carriage, which was instantly afterwards heard to drive off.
At the same moment, the barber issued from his hiding-place,
while the mercer's door opened, and the fair Thomasine came
forth.
"Are they gone?" she asked.
" Yes, they're off to the Fleet," replied Peter. " Kitty Con-
\vav gave me a hint to follow them, and see the marriage pei-
formed. Will you go?"
" Willingly," replied the fair Thomasine.
And hurrying off to the stairs near Westminster Bridge, they
took a boat, and ordered the waterman to row as quickly MS he
could to Blackfriars- Stairs. Luckily the tide was in their favour,,
so that the transit was quickly accomplished.
Meanwhile, the carriage containing the old beau and the
actress rolled rapidly along the Strand and Fleet-street, and
drew up before a mean-looking house near the prison. A lamp
threw a faint glimmer upon a sign over the door, displaying two
hands joined together, with the words "MARRIAGES PERFORMED
HERE," inscribed beneath it. Some chairmen and link-boys were
standing at the door, but they were pushed aside by the old
beau's footman. As Sir Singleton alighted, a short, stout, red-
faced man, in a clerical garb, issued forth. This was Doctor
Gaynam, the most noted of the Fleet parsons. He wore a rusty
cassock and full-bottomed wig, rilled with flour, instead of powder,
which contrasted strongly with his purple blotchy face, and nose
studded with carbuncles.
" This way this way, my handsome gentleman and fair lady,"
said Doctor Gaynam, repeating his customary formula, and leading
the pair down a passage in which there was a glass door, giving
a view of two or three wedding parties, drinking and dancing.
" We are ready for you," he added, opening a door, and ushering
them into a small back room, where there were two other persons,
who turned out to be the clerk and the register. The latter was
seated at a desk, and had a large book, like a ledger, before him.
M J> Cripps
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 245
" As you may not perhaps be aware of the practice here, sir,"
said Doctor Gaynam to Sir Singleton, "I will take the liberty to
inform you of it. Our rule is always to take the fees before-
hand, to prevent misunderstanding merely to prevent misun-
derstanding, sir."
The old beau immediately produced his purse, and gave five
guineas to the clergyman, a couple to the register, and one to
the clerk. This liberality produced a corresponding effect upon
the parties.
" I have the honour to see Sir Singleton Spinke, sir, I believe,"
said the register. " Is tha: the name you desire to be married
by?" he added, significantly.
"Certainly," said the old beau, "and the name of the lady
is "
" The name 1 wish to be married by is written down on this
paper," said Kitty, in a low tone, delivering a leaf torn from her
tablets, to the register.
" Ah, the dear, sly rogue 1" cried Sir Singleton, squeezing her
hand.
Doctor Gaynam then placed the parties on either side of him,
and commenced reading the service. The register gave the
lady away, and at the same time placed the slip of paper before
the clergyman, who proceeding with the ceremony, gave out the
lady's name as Kitty an appellation which somewhat astounded
the old beau. He, however, repeated the words after the Doctor,
and so did the lady, and in due time the marriage was completed.
Just as the ring "was placed on the bride's finger, two other
persons entered the room ; but as they kept near the door, and
as Doctor Gaynam supposed them to be another couple waiting
their turn to be united, no notice was taken of them. But when
all was over, these two persons advanced, and proved to be no
other than Peter Pokerich and the fair Thomasine.
"Why, what in the name of wonder is this?" cried the old
beau, staring in astonishment. " The likeness is marvellous.
Are there two fair Thomasines? But no, it can't be. Who
the deuce have I married ?"
" You shall see," replied the bride, unmasking.
" Kitty Conway !" exclaimed Sir Singleton.
" Yes, Kitty Conway is the name her ladyship was married
by," said the register; " I've just entered it in the book."
" We've come to offer you our best congratulations, Sir Single-
ton," said Peter.
" And to wish you many years of happiness," added the fair
Thomasine.
>< Well, I'm nicely tricked, indeed," cried the old beau.
4( Egad," he added, gazing at the bride, who really looked very
beautiful, " I don't know but what I've the best of the bargain,
after all. Kitty is decidedly the smarter and prettier of the two,
246 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
and if she has flirted a little, I don't mind it. Lady Singleton
Spinke," he said, giving her his hand, " our carnage awaits us.
I know nothing of these persons," pointing to Peter and the fair
Thomasine. " Mr. Register, will you have the goodness to tell
my servants to drive home to Pall Mall ?"
Lady Spinke waved her hand kindly to the barber and his
companion, who watched her enter the carriage, and drive off.
" Upon my word, I begin to think I've thrown a good chance
away," observed the fair Thomasine, with something like a sigh.
" Oh ! don't say so, my darling," cried Peter ; there's no
security in a Fleet marriage. It may be set aside in a month."
te Now, my handsome couple," cried Doctor Gaynam, who had
followed them to the door, " don't you want the parson ? wont
you step in and be married ? The fees will be only twelve
shillings to you one shilling the clerk, and one the register."
" What say you, sweetest," said Peter " shall we be for ever
united ?"
" For ever !" echoed the fair Thomasine. " Why, you've jus
said that a Fleet marriage can be set aside in a month. No, I
thank you. If I'm married at all especially to a barber I'Fi
be married properly. Take me back to the Little Sanctuary
directly."
CHAPTER VIII
OP THE VISIT OP PHILIP FREVVIN AND DIGGS TO THE MISER, AND WHAT THEY
OBTAINED FROM HIM.
HAVING made his escape from the watchmen, as before related,
Philip Frewin ran on, without stopping, past Charing Cross and
Whitehall, until he reached King-street, when he relaxed his pace.
He then struck into Ox Yard, and entered the Crown Inn, within
it, pushing past the waiter, who stared aghast at his blood-stained
appearance though broken pates were matters of common occur-
rence in those days, as may be seen from Hogarth's prints and
made his way to a room where he found Diggs seated at a table,
with glasses and a bowl of punch before him. The attorney had
been asleep, but he roused himself on Philip's entrance.
" Why, you appear to have come off the worst in this
encounter?" he said, looking at him " I was afraid it would be
so."
" Ay, devil take it !" exclaimed Philip. " He's a more despe-
rate fellow than I thought him. We should have done well
enough but for Jacob Post."
-" Jacob Post !" repeated Diggs " how came he there ?"
Philip told him what had occurred.
" Well, I thought it an ill-advised proceeding from the first,"
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 247
said Diggs, as the other concluded his recital. " I wish you
hadn't chanced to hear he was going to sup with Kitty Conway.
This would never have happened !"
" Curse him !" cried Philip, furiously. " He has robhed me of
two mistresses and a fortune, and I'll be revenged on him deeply
revenged ! I swear it !"
" It is vexatious," replied Diggs, coolly, " and he has crossed
your path somewhat unluckily. Still, as far as Kitty Conway is
concerned, I think he did you a service in taking her off your
hands. But, I repeat, I'm sorry you meddled with him to-night
You've enough to do just now without thinking of revenge, and
the greatest triumph you can have over him will be to get as much
as possible from your uncle Scarve, and thereby reduce Hilda's
fortune for, take my word for it, she will marry him when the
old man dies."
" And his days are numbered ?" observed Philip.
" Undoubtedly," replied Diggs. " Ah, Philip ! if you had but
played your cards well, what a fortune might be yours I It would
have repaired all your folly and extravagance."
" Come, come, Diggs, no preaching," said Philip, angrily.
" What is past is past."
" But I will preach, as you call it," cried the attorney,
some w hat sharply ; " because I am the chief sufferer by your
extravagance. You have been a profligate and a gambler ; and
are now little better than a sharper. I have lost some thousands
by you, and I must and will be repaid !"
" You shall be repaid, Diggs," replied Philip, in a deprecatory
tone.
" But how I and when?" thundered the attorney " how, and
when, sir? answer me that?"
Philip was silent.
" You can have the five thousand pounds you got from my
uncle," he said, at length.
" That is gone," replied the attorney.
" Gone !" cried Philip" why, you'offered to place the money
in my hands yourself!"
" 1 have found a better use for it," said Diggs , " and during
your absence it has been removed."
Philip uttered a deep imprecation.
"I'll tell you what I've done with it," said Diggs; "I've
given it to a most important client of mine an agent for the
Jacobite party, to whose use it will be applied. Your uncle Scarve
is a Jacobite, and I told him this money would be employed for
that cause, and gave him a memorandum that if it prospered ho
should receive double the amount. Therefore, I am all right^;
and to be plain with you, I never meant you to have the money."
" You are a consummate scoundrel, Diggs, and have tricked
me most infamously," said Philip, angrily.
248 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" No such thing," replied Diggs.
" I say you have," cried Philip. " I have wasted my property,
it is true ; but you have helped me to do so by your extortionate
demands. You have raised money for me at such usurious inte-
rest, that you have beggared me while enriching yourself, for I
know you've come in for your share of the spoil."
" Ha ! ha ! ha !" cried Diggs, leaning back in his chair, and
indulging in a loud fit of merriment.
" I'll not be laughed at," cried Philip, striding up to him, and
shaking his hand in his face ; " leave off or I'll make you."
"Sit down," said Diggs, calmly; "you'll gain nothing by
passion, but may by quietude."
Accustomed to obey him, Philip sullenly complied.
" Now listen to me," pursued the attorney; " for I've a good
deal to tell you, and that will surprise you. You know that
Randulph Crew's father died greatly embarrassed, and that
Kandulph assigned his estates to the creditors."
" Well, what of that?" asked Philip.
" You shall hear, if you're quiet," cried Diggs, " but not
otherwise. Mr. Crew's principal creditor was a person named
Isaacs, a Jew, who had advanced him money at most usurious
interest."
" As you have done to me," observed Philip. " The man who
gets into such hands is sure to be ruined."
" Cunning as he was," pursued Diggs, without noticing the
remark, " Isaacs got into difficulties, and assigned his securities
to his chief creditor, Mr. Nettleship, a tallow-chandler in the
city, who died about six months ago, and whose affairs proving
greatly embarrassed, the arrangement of them was committed to
me by his surviving partner, Mr. Rathbone. On examining the
claims on the Crew estate, I found they could not be legally
substantiated, and, therefore, instead of being worth sixty thou-
sand pounds, as he imagined, the securities are not worth a
twentieth part of that amount. These facts being made known
to the agent of the Jacobite party, who is, as I have stated,
a client of mine, he wished to get these papers into his hands,
and Mr. Scarve's money has been appropriated to their purchase."
" The devil it has !" exclaimed Philip ; "and what use does
the a<rent intend to make of them ?"
" He means to give Randulph back his property, provided he
joins the Jacobite cause," replied the attorney, "but on no other
condition. And in my opinion it will never be fulfilled. But
what is more, your uncle Scarve is bound under a heavy penalty
to give his daughter to Randulph Crew. But neither will this
be accomplished, unless the young man turns Jacobite."
" And what is all this to me ?" cried Philip. " Or, rather,
what am I to gain by it."
"That depends upon yourself" replied Diggs. (( It is plain
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.' 9,49
vpu can never marry your cousin Hilda; and it is plain also that
if Randolph turns Jacobite he will marry her, and obtain her
property and his own. You have, therefore, no hope but in
persuading; your uncle to make you his heir."
" And do you think that can be accomplished ?" asked Philip,
eagerly.
"I think it may be," replied the attorney; " and if attempted,
no time should be lost."
"Why not make the experiment to-night?" said Philip.
" Jacob is out of the way."
" That is something, certainly," replied the attorney; "but
the hour is late."
" There is no telling what may happen to-morrow,' said
Philip. " We can but fail."
After a little consideration, Diggs assented; and Philip, retir-
ing to an inner room, washed the sanguine stains from his face,
mended his broken pate with a patch, and covered all with nh
old scratch wig. He then put on the tattered garb he was
accustomed to wear on his visits to his uncle, and returning to
Diggs, they quitted the inn by a private door, and proceeded to
the Little Sanctuary.
Knocking loudly, they were answered by Mrs. Clinton, who
seemed greatly surprised, and by no means pleased, to see them.
Diggs told her he had business with Mr. Scarve that could not
be delayed, and pushing past her, walked down the passage
towards the parlour, followed by Philip, where they found Hilda.
She had been seated at the table, reading that sacred volume
which exercises the most soothing influence on the mind in
seasons of trouble ; but she arose on hearing their approach.
Diggs repeated whot he had stated to Mrs. Clinton, and asked
permission to walk up-stairs to the miser's room.
"Your business must be important if it cannot be postponed
lill to-morrow," said Hilda.
" It cannot be postponed, Miss Scarve," replied the attorney;
" in your father's present state of health, delays might be dan-
gerous, and the urgency of the case must plead my excuse."
" Well, sir, if you are resolved to see him," replied Hilda, " you
\vill find him in his own room He is not gone to bed. You
know your way."
" I do," replied the attorney, going towards the stairs.
" You need not expect Jacob Post home to-night, Hilda,"
observed Philip Frewin : " he has got shut up in the watch-house
for assisting Randulph Crew in a street disturbance. I saw them
taken off myself." And chuckling at the alarm produced by this
intelligence, he followed the attorney up-stairs.
The miser was seated in his easy chair, near the fire; his knees
almost thrust into the scantily-supplied grate; and his skinny
hands extended over the flame. A farthing candle was burning
250 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
on the table. On hearing the door open, he cried, without look-
ing round, in a querulous tone
" So you've come at last, Jacob, have you ?" Where have you
been, rascal ? YouVe kept me up very late, for I couldn't go to
bed till you came home. I'll not leave you a farthing in my will,
if you serve me such a trick again not a farthing!"
ke It's not Jacob, sir," said the attorney, advancing " It's me
Mr. Diggs."
" Diggs I" exclaimed the miser, looking round. " What brings
you here at this time of night? who have you got with you?"
" Your nephew, sir, Mr. Philip Frewin," replied the attorney.
" I've come at rather an unseasonable hour, sir ; but I thought
it better not to delay my visit."
" You think me in danger, Diggs I know you do and that's
the reason of your coming," said the miser. " Everybody fancies
I'm going to die ; even Abel Beechcroft paid me a visit t'other
night to tell me so. But though I'm ill enough, God knows, it's
not all over with me yet. I may come round, Diggs may come
round. But to your business !"
"My business relates to your nephew, Mr. Scarve," said the
attorney. " I know you are much too strong-minded to fear the
approach of death, and though I trust my apprehensions may
prove groundless, I hold it my duty to tell you that I consider
your condition precarious. You may get better "
" But the probability is I shall not P interrupted the miser,
with a ghastly grin ; " that's what you mean to say, sir. Go on."
" I wish to know your sentiments in reference to the proposed
alliance between Mr. Frewin and your daughter," pursued the
attorney. st If anything should happen to } r ou, is it your wish
that she should marry him or Randulph Crew!"
" She shall never marry the latter!" shrieked the miser; " I'll
disinherit her rather."
" Leave your property away from her, if she disobeys your
injunctions and weds him that will answer the purpose," said
Diggs.
u I will I will," rejoined the miser; " and \that is more, I
will leave it from her if she does not marry Philip Frewin."
" If such is your intention, the will had better be drawn up at
once," said the attorney; "I will get writing materials and pre-
pare it."
The miser assented, and turned his head thoughtfully towards
the fire, while Diggs took up the candle and went down stairs
for pen and ink. Though longing to address his uncle, Philip
did not dare to do so, for fear of disturbing the present favour-
able position of things. The next moment Diggs returned, and
sitting down at the table commenced drawing up the will. The
miser watched the progress of his rapid pen in silent curiosity,
and Philip Frewin did his best to hide the intense interest he
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 251
took in the proceedings. At length, the attorney completed his
task, and having glanced it over, turned to the miser, and com-
menced reading it to him. The effect of the instrument, which
was most strongly worded, was to place Hilda completely in thr
power of Philip Frewin.
"It's just what I wished," said the miser, as Dio- s finished -
" I'll sign it."
As he tottered to the table, and sat down in the seat relin.
quished for him by Diggs, who placed the will before him, and a
pen m his trembling fingers, the door opened, and Hilda entered
the room. Though greatly startled by her appearance at this
critical juncture, the attorney commanded himself as well as he
could, and said hastily to the miser, " Sign it, sir, sign it."
But the latter would not be deprived of his triumph. He
looked up at his daughter, and said, "I'm about to put an-
effectual bar to your marriage with Randulph Crew."
"And do you forget your solemn contract with his father? '
she rejoined. " Will not you fulfil that ?"
" That contract is little better than a moral obligation upoa
Mr. Scarve," said Diggs. " It is doubtful whether it is binding
upon him, and it certainly cannot be enforced upon his repre-
sentatives."
" Spoken like an honest man, sir, I must say," replied Hilda,,
contemptuously. "Father," she added, stepping forward, and
laying her hand upon the will, " I beseech you not to sign this-
paper. You are not sufficiently yourself to do so, and it is-
infamous in Mr. Diggs to practise on you thus. Keep it by you,,
and sign it if you will, when you have well considered it. But
not now not now."
" You think me worse than I am, Hilda," said the miser,,
regarding her fixedly ; " but I will undeceive you. It is true that
at times my mind wanders, and my memory fails me ; but I an>
perfectly myself at this moment. In proof of it, I will tell you
what I am about to do. I am resolved you shall not marry Ran-
dulph Crew, and as I feel when I am gone that you may not
respect my injunctions, I have taken care to place my property
in such a state, that you forfeit it, if you do not obey them*
There stands your husband, or my heir."
" You say you are yourself, father," rejoined Hilda ; " but I
deny it. If you were in your right mind you could not act thus.
You could not render me for ever miserable. You could not
separate me from one to whom I am tenderly attached, and seek
to unite me to one whom I abhor. And oh ! why this cruel injus-
tice ! Why seek to benefit your nephew, whose character has
already been laid open to you by Mr. Beechcroft, at my expense ?
But do not blind yourself to the consequences of this wicked act,
I will never wed Philip Frewin ; and if Randulph Crew offers
me his hand, I will accept him."
252 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
' Execute your will, sir," said Diggs, with a contemptuous
smile ; " and rest easy as to its fulfilment."
" Mark me, Hilda," rejoined the miser, trembling with passion,
<c I have been years in collecting my fortune. I have saved it bv
the greatest frugality and self-denial. I love my money as well
as my own flesh and blood nay, better; and I will not place it
in the power of this spendthrift this Randolph Crew to be
squandered away. I will give it to one who will take proper
care of it; who will regard it as I have regarded it; who will
wntch its increase, and experience the same intense delight in
~ts accumulation; and who will never part with it."
" You are doing the very thing you seek to avoid, father," re-
plied Hilda. " You are placing me in the power of a pro-
fligate and a spendthrift. You are throwing your money away ;
#nd if this will is ever executed, and the money gets into your
nephew's hands, so far from being hoarded up, as you expect, it
will be wasted in riot and extravagance."
" She pleads solely for Randulph Crew," remarked Diggs, in
a low tone, to the miser.
" I know it," replied the latter, dipping the pen into the ink.
" Father ! dear father !" cried Hilda ; " do not turn a deaf ear
to my last appeal. If you have any love for me, do not do this."
l< 1 have made up my mind," he answered, coldly.
And he signed it with a firm hand.
" God forgive you, father, as I do I" exclaimed Hilda, bursting
into an agony of tears.
" I had better take charge of the will, sir ?" said Diggs, after
he had attested the signature.
The miser signified his assent, and the attorney, placing the
paper carefully in his pocket, arose.
fs You may depend upon your injunctions being entirely ful-
filled on my part, uncle," said Philip. " Good night, and when
I call again, I shall hope to find you better. Good night, fair
cousin."
And saluting Hilda, who turned from him in disgust, he fol-
lowed Diggs down stairs, and they made the best of their way
out of the house, congratulating each other on the complete
success of their infamous scheme.
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.
MR. CRIPPS'S plan of inveigling Mr. Rathbone into consenting
to his marriage with the widow, threatened to be defeated by
the precipitation of the lady herself, who now that she had made
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 253-
up her mind to it, declaimed strongly against the delay, and
began to tax him with cooling in his ardour towards her. The
valet protested to the contrary ; but all would not do, and he
began to fear he should be compelled to sacrifice the three thou-
sand pounds, which went very much against his inclinations.
Luckily, while he was in this dilemma, the duel occurred between
his master and Randulph, and the wound which the latter had
received, immediately furnished him with a pretext for absenting;
himself until he should have time to mature his plans. He felt
too secure of his prize to be under any apprehension of being
supplanted by Mr. Rathbone.
Accordingly, he despatched Antoine, the French valet, who*
was in his confidence, and to whom he had promised a very
handsome reward, in case of his success, to the widow with a,
ines.sagc, stating that he had been wounded in a duel, and could
not leave his room for some days, but as soon as he could get out
he would pay her a visit.
On receiving this distressing intelligence, Mrs. Nettleship
uttered a scream, and fell back in her chair, and it required the-
combined assistance of Antoine and Mr. Rathbone, who chanced
to be present, with abundance of rosa-solis, and ratafia, to bring
her to herself.
" And where is the dear man wounded ?" asked Mrs. Nettle-
ship, faintly.
" Dans le bras in de arm, madame," replied Antoine. *< Mais:
pas danciereusement not severely, madame. You shall see him
again, et de bonne heure sur mafoi. My master sends his lofe
to you, a.nd bids me say his wound is not so deep as that you
have inflicted on him."
" The dear soul !" exclaimed Mrs. Nettleship, pathetically.
" The plot's out, now," said Mr. Rathbone, to the widow ;
" this is his French walet. I told you that it was Mr. Willars
all the time."
" Certaintmenti monsieur" said Antoine; " c'est Monsieur Vil-
licrs qui est man maitre"
" He says Mr. Willars is his master," observed Mr. Rathbone.
" I understand French a little myself. I'll ask him a question or
two. I say, Monsieur What's-your-name "
" Antoine," replied the valet, bowing.
" Well, then, Monsieur Ontwine, do you know a Mr~
Cripps?"
" Creepps, sare !" cried the valet, perplexed and rather al;irmed.
" Yes, Crackenthorpe Cripps," reiterated Mr. Rathbone.
" Pardon, Monsieur, but may I inquire why you ask the ques-
tion," rejoined Antoine.
" Because we've had a visit from a person of that name," re-
plied Mr. Rathbone, winking at the widow. " A person very
like your master very."
254 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Mais, ma foi, monsieur ! vous ne vous mcfiez pas ? You
don't suspect, sare ?"'
" No, Monsieur Ontwine, I don't suspect, because I'm certain
your master has been deceiving us," rejoined Mr. Rathbone.
"Deceiving you, sare!" exclaimed the valet; "impossible I
Mr. Villiers is a man of too much honour. He would never
Deceive a lady. Sare, he will call you out, when he get well, if
you say so. He will run you through de ventre what you call
it de stomach."
" For Heaven's sake, don't tell him, then, Monsieur Ontwine,"
cried Mr. Rathbone, alarmed. I only meant to say that Mr.
Willars has passed himself off as his own walet as Mr. Cripps."
" Quoi /" exclaimed Antoine. " Mr. Villiers pass himself off
as Creepps is that it?"
" Yes, that's it, Monsieur Ontwine," replied Mr. Rathbone ;
"b it we smoked him directly we couldn't mistake him for a
w.lct ha! ha!"
" Ahy vraiment non 9 monsieur /" replied Antoine, joining in the
laugh " impossible I"
" There could be no mistake in your case, Monsieur Ontwine,"
pursued Mr. Rathbone ; " but with Mr. Willars it's a different
" Very different, sare," replied Antoine, gravely ; and mutter-
ing to himself "bete! niais /" he added aloud, to Mrs. Nettle-
ship, " Has madame any commands to honour me with for my
master ?"
" Say how sorry 1 am for him," replied the widow. " I wish
I might come and nurse him."
" Mr. Villiers will be lienflatte, I'm sure," replied the valet
" but he could not tink of such a ting."
" Nor anybody else," replied Mr. Rathbone. " It would be
highly improper. No, he'll soon be well, and will come and pay
his respects to you himself."
"My master's first visit will be rendered to you, madame," said
the valet. And, with a profound bow he took his leave.
As soon as Antoine was gone, Mr. Rathbone drew a chair near
Mrs. Nettleship.
" My dear Mrs. N.," he began, " I'm glad to find things in such
a good train with your beau."
" You're very obleegirig to say so, Mr. R.," replied the widow,
" and it's more than could be expected from you, considering the
relations in which we once stood together."
" Now, my dear Mrs. N.," pursued Rathbone, "I'm going to
act as a friend to you." Don't deceive yourself. You fancy Mr
Willars in love with you, but I'll tell you the truth he's only in
love with your fortune."
" You're his rival, Mr. R.," said the widow, turning up her
nose.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 255
No, I ain't, Mrs. N.," replied the other; "and if you want
to see whether he loves you or your fortune best, tell him what
I'm going to tell you. You must know," he added, in an altered
tone " that in winding up your husband's affairs, I find, instead
of his being the wealthy man he was supposed, that he died
greatly in debt."
" In debt !" screamed the widow, pushing back her chair.
In debt, Mr. R.I"
" In debt, my dear Mrs. N.," repeated Mr. Rathbone ; "but
don't faint there isn't time for it just now, and there's nobody
but me to see you. Your case stands thus : You have nothing
nay, less than nothing for all your husband's property will be
seized. I've kept the secret safe enough to this moment, and I'll
keep it till you're married, if I can. Now, perhaps, you begin to
perceive my motive for giving you up so easily, and for encou-
raging the beau."
" Too plainly, " sighed the widow. " But what's to be done,
for I begin to think with you, that if Mr. Willars finds this out,
he may be off his bargain ?"
" He never shall find it out," replied Mr. Rathbone, " if you'll
promise to pay me the three thousand pounds to be forfeited by
you in case of your breaking your marriage contract with me ;
and I'll tell you how to do it. He believes you to be worth fifty
thousand pounds ha I ha ! and I've taken care to favour the
notion he I he I you shall give him the whole of your property,
and make him settle five thousand pounds of his own upon you.
I'll be your trustee ; and the money must be paid into my hands.
Thus you'll get a young gay husband, and saddle him with your
debts."
" I can't do it," said the widow ; " I tremble at the thought
of such dreadful deception. " Why, it's little better than swin-
dling. I'll explain my situation to him, and throw myself upon
his compassion."
" And lose him, as sure as my name's Tom Rathbone," re-
plied the other.
" Well, I place myself in your hands," said the widow ; " it's
a frightful position."
" We must lose no time in bringing the matter to an issue,"
rejoined Mr. Rathbone. " My attorney, Mr. Diggs, will prepare
the settlement for you. Keep up your spirits it'll be all right
ha ! ha !" and he took his departure.
Mrs. Nettleship took to her bed for a couple of days, at the
end of which time she grew more composed, had another inter-
view with Mr. Rathbone, requested him to show her her husband's
books, and having satisfied herself that his statement was correct,
promised to follow his instructions implicitly.
At the end of a fortnight, Mr. Cripps presented himself in
Billiter-square. He looked very pale, for he had been drinking
256 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
freely the night before with the Duke of Doncaster's gentleman ;
but this circumstance only lent him additional interest in the
eyes of Mrs. Nettlcship. As preconcerted, soon after his arrival,
Mr. Rathbonc entered the room.
"Ah, Mr. Willars!" said the latter "Glad to see you out
again. Hope you killed your man ha! ha! I've been thinking
a good deal about you during your absence."
" I hope you've made up your mind to release Mrs. Nettle-
ship from her engagement to you, Mr. Rathbonc ?" replied Mr.
Cnpps.
" Before 1 reply, I must ask Mrs. Nettleship one or two ques-
tions," replied the other. "Is it your intention to marry Mr.
Willars, ma'arn ?"
" La ! Mr. R., what a question !" replied the widow. " How-
ever, I'll answer it. It is."
" And how do you mean to settle your property, madam ?
on yourself, I hope?" rejoined Mr. Rathbone. "I've no doubt
Mr. Willars will make an excellent husband. But you are bound
to take care of your own."
" I sha'n't settle it at all," said Mrs. Nettleship " if I give
him myself, my fortune follows as a matter of course."
"You are an an<>el," cried Mr. Cripps, rapturously; "and if
you hadn't a farthing, instead of being as wealthy and beautiful
as you are, you would be equally dear to me."
" Are you quite sure ?" cried Mrs. Nettleship.
" Ton rep !" replied the valet, pressing his heart.
" Well, then " cried the widow.
" Mrs. N. is about to test your sincerity by representing her
circumstances as very different from what they are," interrupted
Mr. Rathbone. " She told me she would do so. But I don't
think it a fair joke; and I therefore put you on your guard
against it."
" It might have startled me a little," replied Mr. Cripps,
forcing a laugh ; " but it would have made no difference in my
sentiments or intentions. And now, Mr. Rathbone, since dis-
interestedness is the order of the day, you, I hope, will imitate
the good example set you by Mrs. Nettleship, and excuse her
the three thousand pounds. I'll now tell you frankly, that my
motive for pretending to be a valet was to trick you out of your
consent. But finding I am dealing with a liberal, high-minded
gentleman, I think it the best as well as the most straightforward
course to ask you to remit the penalty. You cannot fairly claim
it without forfeiting both the lady's and my good opinion ; and
I'm sure you don't desire to forfeit either."
"I'll tell you what I'll do," replied Mr. Rathbone, putting on
an air of candour equal to that of the valet ; " if you'll agree to
settle five thousand pounds on Mrs. N., I will give up the con-
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 257
" Settle five thousand pounds I" exclaimed Mr. Cripps, rathci
staggered.
No great sum to a man of fortune," rejoined Mr. Rathbone
''she brings you twenty times the amount!"
" And herself," insinuated the widow.
" I'll act as her trustee," pursued Mr. Rathbone " it'll be a
very pretty present to her."
" I'm sure you wont hesitate, dearest," whispered the widow,
"since Mr. Rathbone's so kind."
''No no, I can't hesitate," stammered Mr. Cripps; "but
just now all my money's locked up, 'pon rep !"
" Don't let that be an obstacle," said Mr. Rathbone (e you
shall give me a bond for the amount that will do just as well."
"Ah! if you're satisfied with that, I'm quite content," returned
Mr. Cripps. "I thought you required the money down, and
that would rather have inconvenienced me."
" Well, then, we had better settle the matter at once," said
Mr. Rathbone " I'll go and fetch my attorney, who shall pre-
pare the bond and settlement, and then I'll deliver the contract
Co Mrs. Nettleship, after which there'll be no further obstacle to
your union."
So saying, he quitted the room, and the lovers were left alone,
together. Neither of them felt very easy; and at last the widow
proposed an adjournment to the dining-room, where refreshments
were set out, and a few glasses of wine restored Mr. Cripps to
his usual confidence and spirits.
About two hours afterwards, Mr. Rathbone returned, bringing
with him Mr. Diggs. Both the settlement and the bond were
prepared.
Not till that moment did it occur to Mr. Cripps that he was
about to commit a forgery. He gazed at the deeds, as if uncer-
tain what to do ; then, hastily snatching up a pen, he signed
them in his master's name, and in a signature so nearly resem-
bling Mr. Villiers's, that it could scarcely be detected from iw
This done, Mr. Rathbone delivered a paper to Mrs. Nettleship,
and took his departure with Diggs.
CHAPTER X
HOW MR. CRIPPG'S MARRIAGE WITH THE WIDOW WAS INTERRUPTED.
ONE morning, about a week after this, Mr. Jukes, while busied
in the butler's pantry, was surprised by a visit from his nephew,
who strutted in very unceremoniously, and seated himself, ac
cording to custom, on the edge of the table. He was more
2,58 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
finely dressed than usual, being equipped in one of his master's
best suits.
"Well, minks, how are you, old fellow?" he said. "This is
the last visit I shall pay you in this way."
" Glad to hear it," replied Mr. Jukes, drily.
" Your wits were ever dull, minks," replied Mr. Cripps ; " and
they are now more than usually obtuse. I mean that when I
visit you next, it will be in a gilt coach, like my master's."
" Body o' me I" exclaimed the butler " what new folly is the
lad dreaming of?"
"You shall hear presently, nunks," replied the valet; "but
I'm quite exhausted with my walk. Give me a cup of ale, if
you have no wine. Not bad tipple, 'pon rep !" he added, tossing
off the glass poured out for him. "I'm going to be married,
nunks."
"What, to that foolish widow?" cried Mr. Jukes.
"I'm about to marry Mrs. Nettleship," replied Mr. Cripps;
*and I will thank you to speak more respectfully of one to
whom you will soon be so nearly related. I'm to be married
to her on Thursday next, and am come to invite you to the
wedding. She has fifty thousand pounds, and it's all to be mine
no settlement no tying up no cursed trustees fifty thousand
pounds made over! what do you think of that, nunks, eh?"
"I'm lost in astonishment," replied Mr. Jukes; "but take
care of it when you get it. Don't fool it away."
" Leave me to manage my own concerns, nunks," rejoined the
valet. " I'll take another glass of ale," he added, helping himself.
" Well, and where's the wedding to take place ?" asked Mr.
Jukes.
" At my master's," replied Mr. Cripps. " There'll be a dinner,
and a ball after it, and a supper after that. You'll come, of course;
but you mustn't come as a servant. You must lay aside your
livery, and put on one of Trussell Beechcroft's suits."
" If I come at all, it'll be in my own clothes, depend upon it,"
replied Mr. Jukes. " But pray, does your master know what's
going to take place in his house ? has he given you leave to have
this dinner, and ball, and supper, eh ?"
" Pshaw ! nunks, do you think I'd ask him ?" rejoined Mr.
Cripps, helping himself to a pinch of snuff. " He's going to
Newmarket on Wednesday with Sir Bulkeley Price, and they
don't return till Friday. And now, minks," pursued Mr. Cripps,
fortifying himself with another pinch of snuff, " I want a little
money from you. I must have all you can spare I must, 'pon rep !"
" I thought it would end in this," replied the butler.
" 'Sdeath ! I ask no particular favour," rejoined Mr. Cripps
** I only want it till the day after the wedding, and that's but
three days off. Come, down with a hundred, and you shall have
a hundred to the back of it you bhall by this light!"
Beechcroft dis ser in the ce
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 259
" Ods bods ! how the boy talks !" cried the butler. I've no
hundreds to lend, and if I had, I wouldn't lend them on usury."
" Well, fifty I must have," said Mr. Cripps ; I can't do with
less. Forty you shake your head thirty twenty, I'm
obliged to come down like an auctioneer. You are devoid of all
natural feeling, nunks ; more stony-hearted than Brutus, to refuse
your sister's son twenty pounds for three days, and perhaps pre-
vent him from settling for life."
" Well," said Mr. Jukes, moved by this appeal, " 1 will lend
you twenty guineas, nephew, but you must repay me. It's the
savings of the last three years."
" Repay you, faith and troth, 1 will, thou best of nunkies/'
replied Mr. Cripps, embracing him. " I'll repay you with enor-
mous interest."
"I don't want any interest," replied the butler; "I shall be
well content with the principal."
And opening a drawer in the cupboard, he IOOK out of it a
small leather bag containing twenty guineas, which he counted
and gave to his nephew.
" Twenty thousand thanks, nunks," said Mr. Cripps, pocketing
the gold ; " and rely upon being punctually repaid. By-the-bv,
if you're at all tired of your present place, and should like to
serve me, I needn't say I shall be happy to engage you as
butler, and 10 increase your wages. What do you set from old
Abel?"
" Never mind what I get, nephew," replied Mr. Jukes, " I've
no idea of leaving him."
" No offence, nunks," rejoined the other. " 'Sdeath ! it's no-
degradation to a man to be his nephew's butler. I know two
fathers who're their sons' shoe-blacks. But you'll not foil to come
to the wedding. Twelve o'clock on Thursday. Be punctual.
My butler's place shall be left open for a few days, in case you
should change your mind about it."
And he took his leave in high glee, while Mr. Jukes, as he shut
the door after him, said dolefully to himself
" I'm afraid I've done wrong in lending the money. However,,
he's my sister's son."
Having now got a larger sum in his pocket than he had ever
had before, Mr. Cripps felt strongly tempted to try his luck at the
gaming-table, but he resisted the temptation.
"No, no," he thought, "it wont do to hazard this money.
It's everything to me just now. I shall have plenty to spare for
play shortly."
On his way home, Mr. Cripps called upon Peter Pokerich,
and invited him and the fair Thomasine to the wedding, the one
in the capacity of groomsman, and the other in that of bridesmaid.
And the invitation was delightedly accepted by both.
260 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
A Great load was taken from the valet's mind on the following
morning, as he helped his master into Sir Bnlkcley Price's
carriage, and saw him start, as he supposed, for Newmarket.
Not a moment was to be lost. Every preparation that could
be made without exciting suspicion, had been made beforehand-
hut now Mr. Cripps set to work in earnest. He went to the
Cocoa Tree and ordered, in his master's name, a first-rate dinner,
with abundance of the finest wines, to be sent in on the follow-
ing day. He next engaged a band of musicians for the ball, and
ordered fruits, confectionary, and pastry for the supper. His
fellow servants, who were all, of course, in the secret, and to
whom he had promised great things as soon as he should be put
in possession of the widow's fortune, assisted him in his prepara-
tions for the fete. It was arranged that the ceremony should
take place in the upper chamber, where Randulph first break-
lasted with the beau, and the clergyman selected to perform it
was Doctor Gaynam. Thus nothing seemed wanting on the
valet's part to complete the matter; and late on Wednesday
evening he went to Billiter-square, to inform Mrs. Nettleship
that all was ready. After a brief visit, for he was somewhat
fatigued, he took a tender adieu of her, saying, as he squeezed
her hand at parting
" We shall meet to-morrow, to part no more !"
The next morning, betimes, Mr. Cripps placed himself under
the hands of Antoine, who proceeded to array him in a magnificent
suit, which had never been worn by his master, it having only
been sent home the night before by Desmartins. It consisted of
a coat of crimson-embossed velvet, richly laced with gold,
breeches of the same material, and a white satin waistcoat
flowered with gold. To these were added, pink silk hose rolled
above the knee, superb diamond buckles, a point lace cravat, and
his master's handsomest Ramillies periwig, which had been
dressed by Peter Pokerich. Nearly three hours were expended
in thus attiring him ; and when all was completed, Antoine
declared that his master had never looked half so well a senti-
ment in which Mr. Cripps, as he complacently surveyed himself
in the cheval-glass, entirely concurred.
A little before twelve, Peter Pokerich and the fair Thomasine
: -arrived. The lady was dressed in white and silver, with a fly-cap
with long lappets, and looked so excessively pretty, that Mr.
Cripps could not help wishing she had been the bride instead of
Mrs. Nettleship.
While he was welcoming them, and passing some high-flown
compliments on the fair Thomasine's charms, Mr. Jukes was
shown into the room ; but as he was in his butler's dress, his
nephew did not condescend to speak to him.
Shortly after this, Antoine announced that the bride had arrived,
and Mr. Cripps hurried d< wn stairs to meet her.
.THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 261
Mrs. Nettleship, who had bestowed more than ordinary pains
upon her person, wore a yellow satin sack, embroidered with little
dots of gold. She had large pearl ear-rings, a garnet necklace,
and a diamond solitaire. Her complexion, which was naturally
rather hi^h, had been corrected by white French powder, ancl
was further set off with abundance of little patches on her
cheeks, neck, and shoulders. She carried a beautiful Indian fan,
the handle of which was ornamented with precious stones. She
had arrived in great state; a gilt chariot, lined with pale blue
satin, hired for her from a coach-maker, by Mr. Rathbone, having
formed her conveyance ; and she was attended by a couple of
footmen out of place, likewise hired for the occasion, habited in
superb liveries of sky-blue cloth trimmed with silver, with silver
shoulder-knots, and point d'Espagne hats. Mr. Rathbone, who
accompanied her, was dressed in a suit of purple velvet laced
with gold.
Almost bewildered by the grandeur she beheld around, the
widow was led upstairs by Mr. Cripps; her wonder increased at
every step she took. The two long-eared spaniels and the macaw
enchanted her ; but she actually screamed with delight on behold-
ing the monkey, in his little scarlet coat and bag-\vi<r.
Coffee, chocolate, and champagne, were then handed round by
Antoine and the page ; and while this was going on, the clergy-
man and his assistant were announced. Dr. Gaynam had a
much more respectable appearance than when he officiated at.
Sir Singleton Spinke's marriage. He was dressed in his full
canonicals, and wore a well-powdered full-bottomed wig, which
Peter Pokerich would not have disdained.
Meanwhile, Mr. Cripps had seated himself by the bride on
one of the couches, and was talking very tenderly to her, when
he perceived his uncle approach Mr. Rathbone, as if with the-
intention of addressing him. He instantly arose, and taking the
latter aside, whispered a few words to him, and then, having
accomplished his object, which was to prevent any communica-
tion between him and Mr. Jukes, told the clergyman to proceed
with the ceremony.
Doctor Gaynam was sipping a glass of usquebaugh, but he
hastily gulped it down, and declared himself perfectly ready.
He then took a prayer-book from the clerk, and stationed him-
self between the windows, motioning the others to take their
places before him.
All was soon arranged. Peter Pokerich and the fair Thomasine
stood near the bride; Mr. Rathbone near the bridegroom;
Antoine behind him ; while the group was completed by the two
Africans, who had mounted a settee in the corner to obtain a full
view of the ceremony. The page was on the floor keeping the dogs
quiet, who were quarrelling with the monkey, and biting its tail.
Just as Dr. Gaynam had opened his book, and uttered a pre-
262 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
liminary cough, a noise was heard at the door, and Mr. Cripps,
turning to see what was the matter, beheld it open, and admit
his master.
The valet's alarm was instantly communicated to the whole
assemblage. Antoine shrugged his shoulders, and lifted up his
hands in affright. The two Africans exchanged glances of
alarm, and all eyes were directed towards the beau, who, with
angry looks, and grasping his clouded cane, marched towards
the valet. He was followed by Lady Brabazon, Sir Bulkeley
Price, and Trussell Beechcroft. Lady Brabazon was attended
by her black page, leading her dog by a riband, and this arrival
excited the anger of one of the spaniels, whose furious barking
et the macaw screaming.
Mr. Cripps presented a very chop-fallen appearance. All his
.-assurance deserted him. His hands dropped to his side, and he
/scarcely dared to meet his master's angry gaze.
" Rascal I" exclaimed Villiers, " I have at last fairly detected
you. I'll teach you to put on my clothes to assume my
ame "
" What !" screamed Mrs. Nettleship, dropping a bottle of salts,
\vhich she had placed to her nose " isn't it really himself isn't
it Mr. Willars?"
"No, madam," replied the beau "I am Mr. Villiers; and
this rascal is only my valet, Crackenthorpe Cripps."
" This looks like the real gentleman, I must say," cried Mr.
Jlathbone, who was thunderstruck with surprise.
{ Oh, the villain! the base deceiver! the impostor!"
,-shrieked Mrs. Nettleship, clenching her hands, and regarding
the valet as if she would annihilate him. <f I'll tear his eyes out !
To deceive and expose me in this way to to to oh ! I
shall never survive it. Support me !" she added, falling into the
- arms of the fair Thomasine.
" This is really too bad of you, sir," said Mr. Cripps, wh
vbegan to recover himself a little. " You've deceived me. \
thought you were at Newmarket."
" I received information of your practices, rascal," replied the
beau, " and resolving to see to what extent you carried them, I
only went to a short distance from town, and then returned with
Sir Bulkeley Price, with whom I have remained till now. And
a pretty discovery I've made, i'faith ! My house filled with com-
pany my servants turned into your servants a dinner, supper,
confectionar}', wine, fruit, musicians, and the devil knows what,
ordered at my expense."
"Well, they're not thrown away, sir," replied Mr. Cripps.
"You can marry the lady yourself, if you think proper. I've
no doubt she'll consent to the exchange, and she has fifty thou-
sand pounds."
" Oh, the impudence !" exclaimed Mrs. Nettleship, jumping
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 263
up. " I'll not be taken in a second time. I'll be revenged on
all the sex !"
" You arc not aware, Mr. Willars, of the extensive frauds this
rascal has practised upon you," said Mr. Rathbone. " He has
actually signed a bond for five thousand pounds in your name,
which I have in my pocket."
" The devil he has !" exclaimed Villiers.
" But it is of no effect since the marriage has not taken place,"
said Mr. Cripps; "and if Mr. Villiers chooses to take the lady,
he will of course pay you himself."
In spite of himself, the beau could not help laughing.
" Bad as Mr. Cripps is, he is not worse than the other partv,"
said Trussell, stepping forward; "while he was duping them,
they tried to dupe him. I understand from Mr. Jukes, who has
it on unquestionable authority, that Mrs. Nettleship, so far from
being a wealthy widow, is greatly in debt, while her friend
there, Mr. Rathbone, hoped to pocket the five thousand pounds
secured by the bond he has mentioned."
" Gadso ! then it seems I've had an escape I" cried Mr. Cripps.
"You have," replied Trussell; " and your uncle would have
told you all this before, if you had not kept him at a distance."
" 1 wont stay here to be laughed at!" cried the widow, look-
ing defiance at the jeering countenances around her. " Mr.
Rathbone, your arm. I'll make you marry me yourself, or pay
the penalty of the contract," she added, in a whisper.
" You'll not mistake a valet for a gentleman after this, Monsieur
Rathbone," said Antoine "ha! ha!"
" You had better go away by the back stairs," said Trussell,
stopping them; "for there are a couple of officers in the hall,
waiting to arrest you!"
" Curse on it ! I sent them myself," said Mr. Rathbone, " to
compel the rascal I supposed to be Mr. Willars to pay your
debts."
And hurrying out of the room, he acted upon Trussell's sug-
gestion.
" And now, rascal," said the beau to the valet, " you are no
longer in my service I discharge you. And you may thank
your stars that I let you off so easily."
" I was about to discharge you, sir," rejoined the valet, imper-
tinently. "I don't desire to live with a gentleman who takes his
servants by surprise. He's as bad as a jealous husband."
"Stay!" cried the beau "you don't leave me in that way.
Antoine, stand by him. Now, sir, take off that peruke take it
off' carefully now the sword."
The orders were obeyed, and the wig and sword delivered to
the French valet.
i; Now take off the coat."
Mr. Cripps complied, with a sigh.
264 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Now the waistcoat."
The order was obeyed.
" Now the cravat."
And it was taken off.
" Now the diamond buckles."
"Anything else?" inquired Mr. Cripps, as he gave up the
buckles. " Recollect there are ladies in the room, sir."
"Yes; take yourself off," rejoined the beau.
Even thus shorn of his splendour, Mr. Cripps maintained his
customary assurance. He bowed profoundly and gracefully round,
and quitted the room, amid the laughter of the company
CHAPTER XT.
"STDLTE, HAG NOCTE REPETUNT ANIMAM TUAM; ET QU2E PARASTI, CUJUB
ERUNT." LUC.E, XII.
" WHERE can Jacob be, I wonder?" said the miser, in a querulous
tone, as he crept back to his chair by the fire, after the departure
of Philip and Diggs with their prize. " What keeps him out so-
late ?"
" I don't think he'll come home at all to-night, father," replied
Hilda. " But never mind him go to bed."
" Not come home !" echoed the miser, with a sharp cry ; " if
he doesn't, and that soon, too, he shall never enter rny house
asrain. How dares he go without leave? But perhaps you
allowed him to do so. You begin to fancy yourself mistress
here, because I can't look after you; but I'll teach you dif-
ferently."
"Indeed, father, you are quite mistaken," replied Hilda,
meekly. "Jacob told me he wished to go out on business of
his own, and I didn't like to refuse him especially as he said
he would soon be back."
" And nicely he keeps his word," rejoined the miser ; " why,
he has already been absent more than two hours. But how do
you know he wont be back to-night? Have you heard anything
about him ?"
Hilda hesitated.
"You don't suspect he has carried off anything?" continued
the miser, getting up, and fixing a wildly-inquisitive glance upon
her. " Has he robbed me, ha ? Don't tell me a lie ! He has !
1 see he has!"
"You are wrong, father he has not," replied Hilda. " I wilt
answer with my life for Jacob's honesty. My information 19
derived from Philip Frewin, who told me he has got locked up*
from some cause, in the watch-house. I should disbelieve the?
statement but that it seems borne out by his absence."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 265
" I've no doubt of it," cried the miser " none whatever.
When he returns, he gets his dismissal."
" And what will you do without him, father?" rejoined Hilda.
" You will get no one so faithful so honest."
" Hum !" muttered the miser " that is a consideration. You
needn't stay with me any longer."
" I don't like to leave you, dear father," said Hilda. " You
are very much excited ; pray let me sit up with you."
" No," replied the miser, peremptorily. " Give me my gruel,
and then go to bed."
In obedience to his injunctions, a small basin of gruel, and a
slice of toasted bread, were presently placed before him. lie
swallowed a few mouthfuls, and then pushed the gruel aside.
" I have no appetite," he said. " Take care of it. It will warn*
up again for my supper to-morrow night."
" God grant you may be able to partake of it !" she answered,,
regarding him wistfully. " Father," she added, approaching him,,
and speaking in a supplicatory tone, " may I pray with you ?"'
" Not to-night," rejoined the miser. " I am seldom inclined
for devotion, and just now my mind is too much disturbed
for it."
" You make me very uneasy, dear father," cried Hilda,,
taking his hand. " Oh, do not do not, I beseech you, postpone
making up your account with your Maker I You know not how
soon you may be called hence !"
" No more of this," cried the miser, shaking her off. "I tell
you I am not so ill as you think me. Good night!"
" One word more before I go, father," she said. " It is not
too late to revoke your unjust will."
" What I have done, 1 have done/' he replied, and turning;
awav, he fixed his eyes on the fire.
Oppressed with the gloomiest foreboding, she. quitted the-
room.
On gaining the lower room, she fell upon her aunt's bosom ID
an agony of distress. When she was sufficiently recovered to li-
able to explain to Mrs. Clinton what had occurred, the good old
lady was almost as much afflicted as herself.
But that the hour is so untimely," she cried, " I would!
advise you to go to Mr. Beechcroft, and consult him. It would
distract me if these villains should succeed in their infamou*
scheme."
" Providence, to whose care I resign myself, will thwart them,
I am well assured !" rejoined Hilda. " I will go to Mr. Beech-
croft the first thing to-morrow morning, and I am certain he will
assist me if he can. And now let us retire to rest, for Jacob, it
is clear, will not return."
Left to himself, the miser remained for some time cowering;
over the fire, and drew closer and closer to it as it burnt lower*
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
and diffused less warmth. At last, as it threatened to go out
entirely, he scraped up all the cinders he could collect from the
hearth, and throwing them upon it, kept it slightly alive.
Suddenly, as if something had crossed him, he arose, and
going to the table on which the writing materials were left, took
up a pen ; but after gazing some time vacantly at the paper, he
laid it down again, muttering, "Another time another time!"
He then took off part of his clothes, and got into bed ; but
sleep fled his eyelids, and dismal thoughts, which he vainly
sought to shake off, took possession of him. At length he sank
into a sort of trance, during which a hideous nightmare, in the
shape of a mountain of gold, laid its heavy hand upon him.
Half stifled, he started bolt upright in bed, and gazed timorously
round the imperfectly-lighted chamber. It was a gusty night,
and the noise of the casements creaking in the wind added to his
fears.
Unable to endure this state ot nervous apprehension longer, he
sprang out of bed, and, hastily wrapping himself in his dressing-
gown, took down the pistol from the hook over the chimney, and
proceeded to the closet where he fancied he heard some one
trying to break in, and examined the window, but it appeared
perfectly secure
No sooner, however, was one source of dread removed, than
another was aroused. His hoards might be gone! Terrified by
this idea, he flew to all his hiding-places, and placed their con-
tents on the table. His dim eyes sparkled with unnatural
brilliancy as he gloated over them.
While telling over the pieces, and weighing them in his hand,
a new recollection crossed him. Snatching up the candle, he
hurried to a small cupboard at one side of the room, at the
bottom of which lay a heap of old rags and rubbish, apparently
put there out of the way. Hastily removing this dusty pile, some
half-dozen leathern bags were exposed to view.
" Here they are here they are !" he exclaimed, with a cry of
childish delight. " Oh, my darlings! my treasures ! how glad
I am to see you. You give me new life. Talk of physic pshaw !
there is none like gold. The sight of it cures me in an instant.
I feel well quite well : no, not quite," he added, as a sudden
giddiness seized him, and he had to catch at the closet door for
support; "not quite well; but better much better. What a
jnemory mine must be to forget these bags each containing two
hundred guineas that's twelve hundred ! Twelve hundred
guineas! and I had forgotten them. I hope I have not forgotten
anything else. Let me see oh, my head! my head!" he con-
tinued, shaking it mournfully. "My memory's clean gone !
clean gone ! But what shall I do with these bags ? they're not
safe here. Jacob may find them in clearing the room. I'll hide
them in the cellar with the other treasure."
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 267
Utterly forgetful that the chest had been removed, he imme-
diately set about executing his design. Listening at the door to
hear that all was still, he took up two of the bags with the inten-
tion of carrying them down stairs ; but finding them too heavy
for him, he was obliged to content himself with one, and thus in
transporting them all to the cellar, he had to perform six journeys.
The last had nearly proved fatal, for, as he tottered down the
cellar steps, he missed his footing, and rolled to the bottom.
With some difficulty he got up again ; but heedless of the bruises
he had received, he picked up his candle, which was extin-
guished in the fall, and returned to his bed-chamber to light
it at the fire. This done, he procured the shovel, and repairing
to the cellar commenced his task.
In his present state of debility and exhaustion, it cost him
infinite labour to get up the bricks, and he was frequently obliged
to desist from the toil, and rest himself; but though he shook in
everv limb though thick damps burst from every pore, he still
persevered.
Having got out the bricks, he carefully scraped off the surface
of the loose sandy soil. Surprised that the spade met with no
resistance, his alarm was instantly excited, and he plunged it
deeply into the ground. But no chest was there!
For a few minutes he stood transfixed with despair. It never
occurred to him that he had himself removed his treasure, but
he concluded he had been robbed of it. At length, his anguish
found vent in a piercing cry, and he rushed towards the door
\\ith the intention of calling up Jacob; but the recollection that
forced itself upon him, that the porter was from home, checked
him.
Other imperfect ideas thronged upon his bewildered brain. A
glimmering recollection of digging up the chest crossed him, but
he fancied he must have taken out its contents and buried them
deeper in the ground. Somewhat calmed by the idea, he com-
menced digging anew with frightful ardour, and soon cleared out
the soil to nearly the depth of three feet. But as he found
nothing, his apprehensions returned with new force, and paralysed
his efforts. Throwing aside the spade, he groped about in the
sandy soil with his hands, in the hope of finding a few pieces of
gold. A single piece would have satisfied him ; but there was
none nothing but little pebbles mixed with the sand. His
moans, while thus employed, were truly piteous.
At this juncture, his candle, which had long been expiring in
the socket) went out, leaving him in total darkness. A mortal
faintness seized him at the same time. He tried to get out of
the hole, but fell back with the effort his head striking against
the bricks. He struggled to get up again, but in vain his
limbs refused their office. He tried to cry out for help, but a hol-
low, rattling sound alone issued from his throat.
268 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
At length, by a convulsive effort, he did contrive to lift his
head from the ground ; but that was all he could do. His hands
clutched ineffectually at the sandy soil; his frame was powerless;
and a stifled groan broke from his lips.
But this condition was too horrible for long endurance. Tim
muscles of the neck relaxed; his head fell heavily backwards;
and after a gasp or two, respiration ceased.
Thus died this unhappy man, unattended, in a cellar, half
entombed in the hole digged as a hiding-place for a portion of
his wealth wealth for which he had sacrificed all his comforts,
all his feelings, all his affections, and for which alone of late he
had seemed to live. Thus he perished a fearful example of the
effects of the heart-searing vice of which he was the slave and
the victim.
CHAPTER XII.
ABEL BEECHCROFT FINDS THE BODY OF THE MISER IN THE CELLAR HIS
REFLECTIONS UPON IT JACOB'S GRIEF FOR HIS MASTER.
UNCONSCIOUS of the awful catastrophe that had occurred, Hilda,
whose eyes had never closed since she sought her pillow, rose at
an early hour, and set out for Abel Beechcroft's residence.
Abel had not yet left his room, but she found Mr. Jukes astir,
and in some alarm at the absence of Trussell and Randulph;
but she allayed his fears, by telling him what she supposed had
happened to them. She was then shown into the library, and
shortly afterwards Abel Beechcroft made his appearance. He
\v as prepared for some disastrous tidings, and the moment he saw
her, her looks confirmed his fears. After a kindly greeting, she
proceeded to recount to him the infamous scheme practised upon
her father by Philip and Diggs.
" This is worse than even I anticipated," said Abel, as she
closed her recital. " Your father is infatuated on the subject of
his nephew, whose conduct, as well as that of his attorney, is
scandalous. I will go with you at once. If not too late, and he
is in his right mind, I think I can use such arguments with your
father as will induce him to alter his iniquitous design."
"I hope so," sighed Hilda; " but I have great misgivings."
As they were quitting the room, they were stopped by Mrs,
Crew.
" You up at this hour, sister I" cried Abel, somewhat discom-
posed.
*' I was informed that Miss Scarve was here," replied Mrs.
Crew, " and I therefore hurried down as fast as I could. As an
old friend of her mother, I naturally felt anxious to see her *
And she embraced Hilda affectionately.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER
" I am sorry to abridge your first meeting with the daughter of
an old friend, Sophia/' interposed Abel ; " but when you arc told
that her father, who, you know, is in a very precarious condition,
has been prevailed upon to make a will in his nephew's favour,
you will see that not a moment must be lost in trying to induce
him to revoke it."
" I do I do," replied Mrs. Crew. But where is Randulph ?"
" He did not come home last night," replied Abel, sarcastically.
" Not come home !" echoed Mrs. Crew, turning pale. What
can have happened to him?"
" Nothing very particular," replied Abel, hastily. " Trussell
is absent likewise. You will see them both at breakfast, I dare
say. But we are losing time. Good morning, sister."
" Farewell, Hilda !" exclaimed Mrs. Crew, again embracing
her. " I hope all will be accomplished that you desire. But if
it should not be, it will serve only to increase our" and she laid
a slight emphasis on the pronoun " interest in you. I already
love you as if you were my own daughter."
" And believe me, your attachment is fully requited, madam,"
replied Hilda.
And she quitted the house with Abel Beechcroft, who displayed
considerable impatience during her interview with his sister.
On their arrival at the Little Sanctuary, they were admitted
by Mrs. Clinton, for Jacob had not yet returned. After some
little consideration, Abel went up alone to the miser's room, and
knocking two or three times, and receiving no answer, opened
the door.
Approaching the bed, he found it empty, with the clothes
turned down, as left by the miser ; and casting a hurried glance
into the closet to satisfy himself that no person was there, he
hastily ran down stairs to Hilda, to acquaint her with the alarm-
ing discovery he had made.
She was greatly terrified: but after a moment's reflection,
suggested that her father might possibly have gone down to the
cellar, and related the circumstance which she herself had once
witnessed there. Concurring in the opinion, Abel offered
immediately to go in search of him ; and dissuading Hilda, who
secretly shared his worst apprehensions, from accompanying him,
took a candle, and descended to the cellar.
As he entered the vault, he indistinctly perceived a ghastly
object; and springing forward, held up the light, so as to reveal
it more fully. His fancy had not deceived him. There, in a
grave evidently digged by his own hands lay his old enemy
dead dead I
While Abel was wrapt in contemplation of this miserable
spectacle, and surrendering himself to the thoughts which it
inspired, heavy steps were heard behind him, and Jacob rushed
into the cellar.
270 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Where is he?" cried the porter, in accents of alarm. "Has
any thing happened ? Ha! I see."
And pushing past Abel Beechcroft, he precipitated himself
into the hole with his master. "All's over with him," he cried,
in a voice of agony and self-reproach, and grasping the cold
hand of the corpse. " This would never have happened if I
had been at home. I'm in a manner his murderer."
" Another hand than yours has been at work here, Jacob,"
said Abel; "and terrible as your poor master's fate has been, it
may prove a salutary lesson to others. There he lies, who a few
hours ago was the possessor of useless thousands, the value of
which he knew not nay, the very existence of which he knew
not for the few bags of gold beside him were the only palpable
treasure he owned. There he lies, who tormented himself with
a vainer quest than ever lured the blind searcher after the phi-
losopher's stone. There he lies, the saddest and most degrading
proof of the vanity of human desires, having died the death of a
dog, with no heart to grieve for him, no eye to weep for him."
" You're wrong in sayin' no one grieves for him, sir," rejoined
Jacob, in a broken voice, " because I do. With all his faults, I
loved him nay, I think I loved him the better for his faults
and though I often talked of leavin' him, I never really meant to
do so."
" Your feelings do you credit, Jacob, and are consistent with
the notion I had formed of you," said Abel.
"I couldn't have said as much to him while he was alive,"
blubbered Jacob, "not if he would have g'ven me half his
treasure to utter it. But I am sorry now i didn't bear his
humours better."
"A natural regret, Jacob," said Abel. "The compunction
we feel for unkindness exhibited by us to the dead should teach
us consideration to the living. I could forgive your poor master
all but the last act of his life."
" What was that ?" asked Jacob, looking up.
" The leaving his property away from his daughter," replied
Abel. " Philip Frewin visited him late last night, with Diggs,
and induced him to make a will in his favour."
" Hell's curses on them both !" roared Jacob, in a furious tone,
and springing out of the excavation. u And Philip came here I
That was the reason, then, why we were locked up in the
watch'us. I thought there was somethin' in it. They did well
to get me out of the way. If I had been at home, I'd have
killed 'em outright, if I had been hanged for it, sooner than this
should have happened. And do you mean to say, sir, that he
has disinherited Miss Hilda entirely ?"
" Unless she marries Philip Frewin," replied Abel.
" You've dried my eyes with a vengeance," cried Jacob. " I
oould almost find in my heart to spurn his avaricious old carcase.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 271
But it's not altogether his fault. The crime lies chiefly at the
door of that scoundrel, Diggs. But such a will wont hold good
sir will it?"
"I hope not," sighed Abel. "But I must now go up stairs
to your young mistress, to acquaint her with her bereavement.
It will be your care to remove the body."
And with a slow footstep and saddened air he quitted the
vault.
CHAPTER XIII.
DIGGS AND PHILIP UNEXPECTEDLY ARRIVE THE MISER'S WILL IS READ, AND
PHILIP DECLARES HIS INTENTION OF ACTING UPON IT ABEL UNBOSOMS HIMSELF
TO HILDA.
ABEL'S looks as he approached Hilda convinced her of what had
happened, and rendered the announcement of the melancholy
tidings he had to communicate almost superfluous.
" You have lost a father, my dear child !" he said, in a tone of
the deepest commiseration ; "but you have a friend left who will
endeavour to supply his place."
Hilda could only thank him by her looks.
" Under any circumstances, this would have been a heavy
blow to you," pursued Abel, "but under the present it comes
with additional severity. Still, I am sure you have fortitude to
support the trial; and I trust, with the blessing of God, to restore
von to your rights. Need I say my house is your home, and
that of your worthy aunt, whenever you choose to remove to it,"
" I feel your kindness deeply, very deeply, sir," she rejoined,
" but as long as circumstances will permit me, I will stay here."
Just then a knock was heard at the door, and as no answer
Avas returned by those within, it was opened, giving entrance to
Philip Frewin and Diggs. They both appeared disconcerted on
seeing Abel Bccchcroft, but Diggs instantly recovered himself;
and looking round, at once conjectured what had happened.
"Miss Scarve," he said, "we were passing by the house, and
seeing the street-door open a very unusual occurrence here
entered without knocking. I hope and trust nothing is amiss."
" Go into the cellar and satisfy yourself," said Abel Beech-
croft, sternly.
" Good God, sir ! you don't mean to insinuate that Mr. Scarve
has died in the cellar!" cried the attorney.
" Oons! I hope not!" exclaimed Philip, scarcely able to conceal
his satisfaction. " How is my uncle, Hilda ?"
" My father is dead," she replied, in a freezing tone.
" Dead !" repeated Philip. " Lord bless me ! how very sudden.
Lucky we happened to turn in, Diggs. Can we do anything for
you, cousin?"
272 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Hilda made no reply, but the attorney immediately interposed.
*' As your uncle's executor, and in a manner his heir, Mr.
Frew in," he said, "it is your duty to seal up all his chests, cup-
boards, bureaux, and drawers, without delay. I will assist you."
" Hold !" exclaimed Abel, " I give you both notice that Miss
Scarve considers that the will under which you propose to act
fans been fraudulently obtained ; and she will dispute; it."
" Miss Scarve will act as her feelings dictate, or as she may be
advised, sir," replied the attorney; "but, in the meantime, it will
but be right for Mr. Frewiu to take proper precautions. Let us
go to Mr. Scarve's chamber, sir."
So saying, and disregarding the looks of disgust directed against
them by Abel, they went up stairs.
u Oh ! do not leave me till they arc gone, Mr. Bccchcroft,"
said Hilda.
" I will not," he replied, taking a seat beside her.
Meanwhile, the attorney and his companion proceeded about
-their task with some semblance of feeling, but real indifference.
Having glanced through the room up stairs, and swept all the
poor miser's hoards, which were strewn about on the table, into
a chest, which he locked, Diggs called Philip's attention to the
position of the pen and paper, saying, " I arn almost certain he
meant to write something perhaps revoke his will but it was
too late ha ! ha !"
With a sly chuckle, he then proceeded to seal up all the boxes
and cases. In this task he was assisted by Philip Frewin, and
ihey had just concluded it, when heavy footsteps were heard on
the stairs, and the next moment the door was thrown open, and
Jacob entered the room, carrying in his arms the body of his
master, which he deposited on the bed.
"And this was how he died!" said Philip, casting a shud-
dering glance at the corpse.
" Ay, ay, you calculated your chances nicely," rejoined Jacob.
*' You'd cheat the devil, you would. But you haven't got the
fortune yet."
" Harkec, friend Jacob," said Philip, " I will thank you to
speak more respectfully to me in future, or I will l^t you know
who is master here."
"You shall never be my master," replied Jacob; "and if I
only get the word from my young missis, see if I don't turn you
both out of the house, neck and heels."
Philip would have made an angry retort, but Diggs checked
him, whispering that " it would not do just now."
" You may get off from me," pursued Jacob ; " but you wont
get off from Mr. Randulph Crew for your conduct towards him
last night."
" I am ready to render Mr. Crew an account of my conduct
whenever he may require it," replied Philip, haughtily.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 273
" If you will follow my advice, sir, now that your prospects
are fully settled, you will leave off these brawls altogether,"
observed Diggs. " If Mr. Randulph Crew threatens you with
an assault, give him in charge of a constable, and leave the rest
to me."
" I believe that will be the best plan," said Philip.
" Much the best for a coward tu pursue faugh 1" exclaimed
Jacob, with a look of supreme contempt.
Diggs and his companion then went down stairs to the cellar,
where the bags of gold were still left, and having examined
them, locked the door, and put seals upon it.
This done, they repaired to the parlour, and Diggs steppino-
TT-I J J 1 1 1_ ~ F* O
up to Hilda, addressed her.
^ " Chancing to have your father's last will in my pocket, Miss
Scarve," he said, " I will read it to you, as the sooner you are
made acquainted with his injunctions the better. Mr. Beech-
croft, I also request your attention to the document; and you,
too, Mrs. Clinton, that you may not afterwards plead ignorance
of it."
And without further preliminary he read the will
" It is sufficiently intelligible, 1 must say," observed Abel, as
he concluded; "and I must say also that I never listened to a
more disgraceful document."
" You are at liberty to make any comment upon it you think
fit, sir," said the attorney. "I am quite prepared for expres-
sions of disappointment on your part."
" Why on my part, sir?" rejoined Abel.
" Because Mr. Scarve's wise disposition of his property has
prevented you from securing it for your nephew, sir," replied
the attorney.
A deep flush dyed Abel's pale cheek, and he fixed his kindling
eye upon the attorney.
" Up to this point you have succeeded in your villany, Air.
Diggs," he said, " but you may depend upon it your triumph
will be brief. That instrument will never hold good, and the
manner in which you have obtained it, with other of your recent
acts, will drive you from the profession, if they do not also
banish you from the country."
" I laugh at your threats, sir," replied the attorney. " My
position is too firm to be shaken by anything you can say or do.
And you will find this will equally firm. Its motive is too appa-
rent to admit of dispute. My late respected and lamented client
wished to marry his daughter to his nephew, and fearing that
she would disobey his injunctions, took care that she should not
do so without forfeiting his property. Mr. Scarve had a perfect
right to do this. If Miss Scarve thinks otherwise, she can dis-
Dute the will. But she will find it as difficult to be set aside, as
her father, while living, was to be turned from his purpose,"
T
274 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" I shall .net strictly up to the conditions of my uncle's will,' 1
said Philip Frewin ; (t and it will be a matter of deep regret to
me if my fair cousin should refuse to accede to them. I will not
urge her at this moment, but will call again in the course of the
day for her answer." And with a supercilious bow, he took bis
departure with the attorney.
For some time after they were gone, not a word was uttered
by the group left in the parlour. Abel was buried in deep
thought, and neither of the others appeared inclined to break the
silence. At length Abel roused himself, and turning to Mrs.
Clinton, requested to be left alone a few minutes with Hilda;
the good lady immediately withdrew.
" It may be, Hilda," he said, in a voice of much emotion
" though God forbid it should be so that the issue of this con-
test will be against us, and the will be declared valid. I cannot
free myself from some misgivings."
" Nor I, sir," she replied ; " and yet to show you how strangely
and inconsistently my father has acted, you will see from this"
and she drew forth a slip of paper from her bosom " that he
was under an obligation to the late Mr. Crew to give me to his
son Randulph, with a certain dowry."
Abel glanced over the document in surprise.
" Would I had seen this in his lifetime !" he said.
" But for his violence you would have seen it, sir," she replied.
" I was about to show it you when you last saw him, and was
only deterred by the state of excitement into which he was
thrown."
" How unfortunate !" exclaimed Abel. " But perhaps the
document may still be of use."
And he arose and paced the room to and fro, in extreme
agitation. At last he stopped before Hilda, regarding her fixedly.
" Answer me sincerely," he said, " do you love Randulph ?"
" You need scarcely ask the question, sir," she rejoined,
blushing.
" The match seems ordained by Heaven," cried Abel ; " it is
useless to oppose it. Listen to me, Hilda. I loved your mother
deeply, passionately loved her. By my own fault, it seems
though I understood it not then I lost her, and she became the
bride of your father. From that time I was doomed to wretched-
ness, and though my sufferings were hidden under the mask of
indifference, the vulture of despair was perpetually gnawing at
my heart. During this dreadful period, when I hated all man-
kind, and him most of all who I conceived had robbed me of
what I held dearest on earth, you were born, and soon afterwards
my sister, Mrs. Crew, gave birth to Randulph. It was whispered
among our family that the two infants would suit each other, and
that their union would reconcile old grievances. In the bitterness
and anguish of my heart, I vowed that this should never happea,
kttrrft*, 0-nuK.rh
Disp<- bras-.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
it' I could prevent it ; and for years I nourished the resolution,
until it became rooted in my breast. Your mother died; and it
might have been supposed that my sorrows and resentments
would be buried in her grave ; but it was not so. There are
some loves, as there are some hatreds, that survive the tomb, and
mine was one of them. Whatever brought her image to my
mind gave me acute suffering, and I prohibited all who knew
me, on pain of my displeasure, from alluding to her in any way.
Thus little reached me of you or your father, till Randulph's
arrival in town a few months since. To my surprise I found he
had seen you ; and from the manner in which he spoke of you,
I perceived that he was smitten by your charms.
Hilda uttered a slight exclamation.
" I will not disguise from you," pursued Abel, " that this dis-
covery gave" me inexpressible uneasiness, and I sought by every
means in my power to prevent him from seeing you again. But
fate had decreed it otherwise. Chance brought you together
again and a^ain, until the final adventure at Vauxhall seemed tc
link your affections together indissolubly."
" It did so," observed Hilda.
" Notwithstanding all this, I could not bring myself to con-
sent to your marriage," continued Abel ; " nay, I determined to
cast off Randulph for ever if he disobeyed me. My resolution
was somewhat shaken by your father's illness, and I began to
find my dislike to the connexion abating. Can you understand
these contradictory feelings, Hilda, for I loved you all the time ?"'
u I can, sir," she replied.
" That which alone removed my objection," said Abel, sternly,
was the sad spectacle 1 beheld in the cellar this morning. After
the sight I there witnessed, I could not retain further animosity
against the author of my misery. I can now review the past
with calmness. I can now think of your mother without pain,
and of your father without heart-burning ; I can now love you
as their child, without other feelings obtruding upon me."
And opening his arms, he folded Hilda in a strict embrace.
t " Bless yon 1 bless you, my child !" he cried. "If Randulph
proves worthy of you, he shall have you."
Hilda averted her head, and there was silence between them
for a brief space.
"You wished to have some communication with my poor
father before his death," she said, at length. " I hope it was
not of importance ?"
"Only to himself," replied Abel, with a deep sigh. "I
wished to forgive him for prevailing upon me, under the garb of
friendsb;;), to introduce him to your mother and her family. I
wished 10 forgive him for the arts he used to wean her affections
from me; for his misrepresentation of my circumstances and
:haracter ; and for the prolonged anguish he occasioned me, and
T 2
27G THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
to which death would have been preferable. I wished to say
thus much to him, to hear from his own lips an avowal of his
regret, and to be at peace with him for ever !"
" You are at peace with him now, sir, I trust," said Hilda
" As far as I, myself, am concerned, I am so," replied Abel ,
" but for you"
" Oh, do not think of me I" cried Hilda. " I forgive him from
the bottom of my heart. He has been the dupe of others."
" Say rather he has been the bond-slave of Mammon," replied
Abel, sternly, "who has destroyed him, as he destroys all his
worshippers. But I will not pain you by any harsh reflections.
Be assured, nothing shall be neglected to repair the injury he has
done you. And now, farewell, my dear child, since you decide
upon remaining here. I will see you again in the latter part of
the day ; and, meantime, you stand in need of some repose."
And folding her once more in his arms, he took his leave.
CHAPTER XIV
PHILIP FREWIN IS DANGEROUSLY WOUNDED BY RANDULPH HIS LAST
VINDICTIVE EFFORT.
RANDULPH'S feelings on awaking and finding himself in the
watch-house were at first humiliating and full of self-reproach.
But by degrees these milder sentiments speedily gave way to
anger against Philip Frewin, and so indignant did he become,
on reflection, at the conduct of the latter, that he resolved that
his first business, on obtaining his freedom, should be to seek
him out and call him to a strict account. His wrath had by no
means abated as Mr. Foggo entered the chamber, a little before
eight o'clock, to call up him and his companions.
" I hope you rested well, gen'l'men," said the constable, with a
somewhat malicious grin. " Will you please to have breakfast?"
" Not here, Mr. Foggo," re plied Trussell, yawning. " I think
you said, last night or else I dreamt it that it wouldn't be
necessary to go before a magistrate ?"
" I think it may be managed, sir," said the constable, " pro-
vided ahem 1"
" Provided we come down eh, Mr. Foggo ?" rejoined Trussell.
ct Exactly, sir," replied the other.
" Do not bribe him, uncle," cried Randulph, indignantly.
" We have been most unjustifiably detained, and I wish to be
taken before a magistrate, that I may have an opportunity of
complaining of the shameful treatment we have experienced, as
well as of preferring a charge against Philip Frewin."
" Be advised by me, my dear boy, and make no further
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 7f
disturbance about the matter," replied Trussell. " You'll get no
redress."
" But, uncle"
" Between ourselves," interrupted Trussell, " I would rather
the affair didn't come to the ears of my brother Abel, which, if
we're publicly examined, will unquestionably be the case."
" That's why I recommend you not to go before his worship,"
observed the cunning constable ; " it may be disagreeable in its
consequences."
" To be sure it may," replied Trussell, slipping a guinea into
his hand. " Let us out as fast as you can."
"I shall not move," said Randulph.
" Oh I it's quite optional," said Mr. Foggo, evidently discon-
certed.
" I shall go, at all events," said Trussell.
" And so shall I," said Jacob. " I shall get back to my poor
master as fast as I can. Lord knows what may have happened
in my absence."
" Well, if you're both going, I must perforce accompany you,"
said Randulph : " but I protest against the step."
Mr. Foggo attended them to the door of the watch-house, and
made them a most polite bow as he let them out. Taking a hasty
leave of the others, Jacob set off to the Little Sanctuary, where,
it is needless to say, a painful surprise awaited him.
As they walked along, Trussell proposed that they should
breakfast at a coffee-house, and put their toilette a little in order
before going home ; and Randulph, recollecting that Jacob had
mentioned the Crown Inn, Ox Yard, as a place frequented by
Philip Frew in, suggested that they should go there. Trussell
being perfectly agreeable to the arrangement, they bent their
steps in that direction.
On arriving at the Crown, and inquiring for Philip, they
learnt that he had rooms in the house, but had been out the
greater part of the night, and was absent at the time. He was,
however, momentarily expected, and the waiter promised to let
them know when he returned.
Trussell then ordered a good breakfast, to which, after making
their toilettes, they both did ample justice. At the expiration of
an hour, Randulph renewed his inquiries about Philip. Still he
had not returned.
" Well, if you like to wait here for him," said Trussell, " I will
go home, and make some excuse for you, and will return and
tell you what I have done."
The desire of avenging himself on Philip Frewin being now
paramount in Randulph's breast, he readily assented to this plan,
wJl Trussell departed. Having feed the waiter, to insure the
accomplishment of his object, Randulph flung himself into a
eat, and was musing over the events of the previous night, by
173 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
of keeping up his choler against Philip, when the door
suddenly opened, and a man, stepping into the chamber, was
about to withdraw, with an apology for his intrusion, when a cry
from Randulph, who recognised him as Cordvvell Firebras,
checked him.
" What ! is it you, Randulph ?" cried Firebras, holding out
his hand. " I came here to meet another person, but you are the
man of all others I most wished to see. What the deuce are you
doing here ?"
" I am waiting to see Philip Frewin," replied Randulph. " He
served me a scurvy trick last night, and got me shut up in the
watch-house, and I mean to chastise him."
" I sha'n't hinder your laudable design," replied Firebras,
laughing. " But," he added, closing the door, " I was about to
send to you on a matter of the utmost importance. I have a
proposal to make to you that affects your nearest and dearest
interests. Come to me at the Chequers Inn, Millbank, a little
before midnight, and I will give you proof that I hold your
fortune in my hands."
" To be obtained on the same terms as heretofore ?" demanded
Randulph.
" Hear what I've got to propose, and then inquire the con-
ditions," rejoined Firebras.
" Well, 1 will come," replied Randulph.
As he said this, the waiter entered the room, and made a siga
to him that his man had arrived.
Randulph's eyes sparkled, and without saying a word, he
beckoned Firebras to follow him, and, directed by the waiter,
proceeded to Philip's room, which immediately adjoined his
own.
Philip was not alone, he was attended by Captain Culpepper,
and was laughingly counting out a sum of money for him. But
his glee died away on beholding Randulph's stern looks, and he
would have beaten a retreat, if Firebras had not closed the door,
and planted his bulky person before it.
" What do you want here, sir?" he cried, in as fierce a tone as
he could command, to Randulph. " This is my room you
have no business here. Ring the bell, Captain Culpepper."
" If the captain stirs, I will cut his throat," cried Firebras.
" If I treat you as a gentleman, scoundrel, it is more than you
deserve," said Randulph, fiercely ; " but I demand instant satis-
faction for your conduct last night."
" I can't fight to-day, Mr. Crew," said Philip. tc I'm engaged
on particular business, as this gentleman knows. To-morrow, at
any hour you please."
" This is a pitiful evasion, coward!" cried Randulph; * buc it
shall not avail you."
And he struck him with the flat of his sword.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 279
"'SbloodI sir, hold your hand!" cried Captain Cnlpepper,
whipping out his blade, and interposing;. " Leave off this game-
or, by my troth, I'll slit your weazand for you."
"No you wont, captain," said Cordwell Firebras, stepping
forward. " Let them settle the matter themselves. If Mr.
Frewin is a gentleman, he will give Mr. Crew satisfaction ; and
if he is not, you must agree with me, as a man of honour, that no
punishment can be too degrading for him."
u I must confess there is reason in what you say, sir," replied
Culpepper. "Fight him, sir fight him*!" he whispered to
Philip. " I'll help you if you require it."
" Hold your hand, ruffian !" cried Philip, exasperated by the
treatment he had experienced, " and look to yourself.''
And drawing his sword, he attacked Randulph with the
utmost fury. It was evident, from his style of fencing, that
Philip did not want skill ; but his passion robbed him of judg-
ment, and he frequently exposed himself to his antagonist, who
fought with great coolness, evidently meaning to disarm him, or
at most slightly wound him.
Desirous, at length, of putting an end to the conflict, Ran-
dulph assailed his adversary more vigorously, and was driving
him towards the wall, when footsteps were heard hurrying along
the passage. Firebras turned to lock the door to prevent inter-
ruption, and while he was thus engaged, Culpepper made a thrust
at Randulph, which, fortunately, the latter was able to avoid by
a sudden spring backwards.
Exasperated by this treachery, Randulph dexterously parried
a thrust in carte from Philip, and instantly returning the pass,
his point plunged deeply into the other's breast. Philip staggered,
and would have fallen, if Culpepper had not caught him.
" Don't mind me," cried the wounded man, " attack him !
attack him ! I'll give you a thousand pounds if you kill him."
" I can't do it now, sir," whispered Culpepper. " I fear you're
seriously hurt."
" Yes, it's all over," groaned Philip. " Curse him, the luck's
always on his side."
Meanwhile, Cordwell Firebras had rushed up to Randulph^
who looked stupified at the result of the encounter.
" Get off as fast as you can," he cried, " it wont do to be taken
just now. The window in that closet is open, and you are young
and active, and can easily reach the ground. Repair to the
Chequers at once, and keep close all day. I'll be with you
before midnight."
Throwing one look of compassion at the wounded man, Ran-
dulph darted into the closet, and peeping out of the window,
perceived that it looked upon the roof of a shed. Dropping upon
this building, he gained a narrow alley which led him into Kmg-
streeL
S80 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
As soon as Randulph had made good his retreat, Firebras
opened the door, and gave admittance to the landlord and some
half-dozen attendants.
A surgeon was instantly sent for, and Philip placed in a chair,
while Cordwell Firebras assisted in bandaging up the wound. It
bled internally, and Firebras's experience told him it was highly
dangerous.
" What do you think of my hurt ? ' asked Philip, whose aspect
had already become ghastly and cadaverous.
" I'll not deceive you," replied Firebras; " you're a dead man."
"But my murderer will be hanged for it, wont he?" cried
Philip, with a malignant look.
" You were fairly hit," replied Firebras. " If anybody deserves
hanging, it's Captain Culpepper. I saw the foul blow he aimed
at llandulph."
At this moment, Diggs entered the room, and was horror-
stricken at beholding the condition of Philip Frewin.
" Why ! what dreadful mischance is this ?" he cried, gazing at
him. " I hope you are not seriously hurt ?"
u They tell me I am mortally wounded," replied Philip, with
a groan ; " and I believe they're right. I have only been made
my uncle's heir to mock me."
" What I is Mr. Scarve dead ?" cried Firebras, in surprise.
" He died last night," replied the attorney, "and Mr. Frewin,
as he has just told you, is his heir, provided Hilda refuses to
marry him."
" The devil !" exclaimed Firebras ; " this has been a lucky blow
'for Randulph. I'm glad he was not aware of the fact, or the
thing might have looked like premeditation."
" Get me a chair, Diggs, instantly !" cried Philip, " and take
me to the Little Sanctuary. I will see Hilda before I die, and
if she refuses to marry me, I'll make my will at once. I have
.strength to sign it."
" What madness is this ?" cried Firebras.
" It's no madness," replied the other. " Get me a chair
quick quick I"
Thus exhorted, Diggs gave the necessary instructions, and
shortly afterwards a chair was brought into the room by two
porters, and the wounded man placed in it. Attended by Fire-
bras, Diggs, Culpepper, and Mr. Molson, who chanced to be tho
nearest surgeon, and who had just arrived, he was transported
to the miser's dwelling.
On arriving there, Cordwell Firebras hastily explained to
Jacob, who answered the knock at the door, the object of their
coming, and bade him urge his young mistress to see the wounded
man. As soon as he had satisfied himself of the truth of the
statement, which \vas so extraordinary that he could scarcely
credit it, Jacob directed the chairmen to bring their burden
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 2S1
along the passage into the parlour, and Philip Frewin \\ as got out
and placed in the miser's old seat.
The chairmen then withdrew, and Jacob ran up stairs to tell
Hilda what had occurred, while Mr. Molson said to Philip
" If you have any instructions to give, sir, you must not lose
time, for you have not many minutes to call your own."
" Where is Hilda?" cried the wounded man. " Get pen, ink,
and paper, Diggs sit down and write what I tell you. Is she
come yet ?"
" Yes, she is here," replied Firebras, as Hilda entered the
room. " Miss Scarve," he added, stepping up to her, (f your
cousin has been desperately wounded in a duel with Randulph
Crew. He has not many minutes to live. Accede to what he
proposes to you," he added, in a low tone.
" Hilda," said Philip, in a faint voice, "I have sent for you to
ask you, in the presence of these witnesses, whether you consent
to marry me."
" You are not in a state to ask the question," she replied, with
a look of mingled commiseration and abhorrence. " Think of
reconciling yourself with Heaven."
" Do you refuse ?" cried Philip, trying to raise himself.
"If you exert yourself in this way, you will only accelerate
your end," said the surgeon.
" I will have an answer," replied Philip " yes or no?"
"Consent," whispered Firebras to Hilda. "It can matter
nothing."
" I cannot bring my lips to utter the word," she replied.
" I require an answer, Miss Scarve," said Diggs, " as it may
affect Mr. Frewin's interest in the property, and your own."
" Then I answer, no I" she replied, firmly.
Cord well Firebras bit his lips.
" Take down that answer, Diggs," said Philip.
The attorney complied, and when done, requested Culpeppcr
and the surgeon to witness it, which they did.
" Now, Mr. Frewin, you are in possession of your uncle's pro-
perty , :) said Digcjs,
" Then, write" out a bequest of it all," said Philip," of all,
"To whom, sir?" asked Diggs, writing with the greatest
rapidity, for he saw that he had not a moment to spare.
" To yourself," faintly replied the dying man.
In a few seconds, without looking up, or exhibiting any sign
of satisfaction, the attorney completed his task.
" It is done sign it, sir," he added, placing the paper before
Philip, and giving him the pen, which the latter could scarcely
^rasp. .. .
It was a moment of breathless interest to all ; and even Hilda
bent forward.
2S2 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" Where is it ?" groaned Philip, trying to fix his glazing eyes
on the paper.
" Here, sir here," said Diggs, putting his finger on the place
where the signature should be affixed.
But it was too late. The pen fell from Philip's grasp, and
falling with his face on the table, he expired.
" Another moment, and I had been master of this property,"
cried Diggs, snatching up the unsigned paper.
"You could not have kept it," said Cordwell Firebras.
" Long enough to have answered my purpose," rejoined the
attorney, putting on his hat, and quitting the house. He was
followed in his retreat by Captain Culpepper.
" You are now undisputed mistress of your inheritance, Hilda,"
said Cordwell Firebras.
" Heaven be praised for it I" exclaimed Jacob. " I knew such
wrongful acts would never prosper."
" To me the event is most fortunate," said Hilda ; <c but I wish
it could have been purchased at a less price than the life of my
unfortunate cousin.'*
" I confess I cannot pity him," said Firebras. ee But you must
now think of yourself. You look very pale."
<c This last strange trick of fortune is almost too much for me,"
she rejoined.
" I would recommend you to seek an asylum with some friend,
while the last mournful duties to your father are performed," said
Firebras. " Why not go to Mr. Beechcroft's ? Randulph's mother
is there."
" I think I will follow your advice," replied Hilda ; " for I
cannot remain here after the shocking event that has just
occurred."
" Mrs. Clinton and I will take care of the house and property,"
said Jacob. " I'll go and fetch a coach directly, if you're going
to Mr. Beechcroft's."
And he set out on his errand, while Hilda went up stairs to
her room, to make a few hasty preparations for her departure.
This done, she entered the room in which her father's remains
were laid, and kneeling beside the bed, prayed fervently. She
then gazed for a few moments on his wan, emaciated features, now
rendered yet sharper by death, and pressing her lips upon them,
quitted the room. Cordweli Firebras led her in silence to the
coach, in which Jacob put the few things she took with her.
" Where is Mr. Randulph ?" asked the latter, as he was about
to mount the box.
" Do you know a summer-house on the banks of the river, near
the mill, in Millbank?" asked Firebras.
" What, belongin' to the Chequers Inn ?" rejoined Jacob. " I
.s//0w/c/knowit, seein' as how I've passed many a pleasant hour in
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 283
" Well, be in a boat off it at midnight," rejoined Firebras,
" and you'll hear something of Randulph."
" I wont fail," replied Jacob, springing on the box, and ordering
the coachman to drive to Lambeth, while Firebras returned to the
house to give some directions to Mrs. Clinton.
CHAPTER XV.
MB. CRIPPS'S ALTERED APPEARANCE HE MYSTIFIES THE FAIR THOMASINE ABOUT;
LADY SPINKE THE SEIZURE OF THE JACOBITE CLUB CONTRIVED.
ON the same morning as the events previously related, while
Peter Pokerich was powdering a barrister's wig, he was interrupted
in his task by the sudden and rather distracted entrance of the fair
Thomasine.
" What's the matter, Tommy, dear ?" he inquired, uninten-
tionally puffing a great quantity of powder into her face. " Ten
thousand pardons, but you quite startled me, and made me miss
my aim."
" You've nearly blinded me, you careless thing," replied the
fair Thomasine, rubbing her eyes ; " besides spoiling my fly-cap,
and filling my hair with your nasty powder. But have you heard
the dreadful the distressing news ?"
" No," replied Peter. " What is it ?"
" Mr. Scarve has been found dead in his cellar," replied the fair
Thomasine, in a sepulchral tone, suited to the nature of her
information ; " where he had digged his own grave, and tried to
bury himself, to save funeral expenses."
" Lord bless us ! you don't say so !" exclaimed Peter.
"Yes, I do," rejoined the fair Thomasine; "but turn your
powder-puff the other way, or you'll miss your aim again. I
shouldn't have been sorry for anything that happened to him,
but what do you think ? he's disinherited his own daughter,
and left all his property to his nephew."
" Oh, the horrid, unnatural old monster !" exclaimed Peter,
capering about, and completely emptying the powder-puff in his
agitation.
" Be quiet, do, and stand still I" said the fair Thomasine, taking
hold of his collar, and keeping him down. " Poor Hilda's not to
have a farthing, unless she marries that odious cousin of hers ;
and if I'm not greatly mistaken in her, she'll die sooner than
consent."
" Of course she will !" cried Peter, still plying the exhausted
powder-puff. " Oh, she's a noble creature, and quite an example
to her sex !"
" So I think," replied the fair Thomasine ; " and till she marries
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
Randulph Crew, I don't marry you that's positive? Oh, emini I
if there isn't Mr. Cripps ! How altered he is, to be sure."
The latter exclamation was occasioned by the entrance of the
ex-valet, who was indeed so much changed as scarcely to be
recognisable. His coat was threadbare, out-at-elbows, and with
the lace upon it tarnished ; his waistcoat was in the same tattered
condition; his nether garments were bepatched with cloths of
various hues , his hose were no longer silk, but cotton very much
darned ; and steel buckles replaced the diamond appendages to
his shoes. His dishevelled peruke stood sadly in need of the aid
of Peter Pokerich; his hat was an old cocked one, with one of
the sides broken, and hanging loose ; and a switch supplied the
place of his clouded cane. He had no lace at his wrists or at
liis breast; indeed, it was rather questionable, from the manner
in which he buttoned up his coat, whether he had a shirt at all.
Fallen, however, as he was, Mr. Cripps was Mr. Cripps still.
He wore his tattered apparel with as great an air as distinguished
him when equipped in all his finery; flourished his switch as if
it had been a magnificent baton ; took snuff out of a pewter box,
with as much grace as when he manipulated one set with bril-
liants ; and brushed away the powder with a ragged handkerchief
as airily as when he boasted a perfumed and embroidered mouchoir.
" The fair Thomasine, as I live," he said, with a diving bow.
*< How charmingly you look, 'pon rep I I've just been to Sir
Singleton Spinke's, to offer myself as his valet. But he has
heard of my cussed adventure, and wont engage me."
" Did you see Lady Spinke ?" asked the fair Thomasine.
"To be sure," replied Mr. Cripps, "and can report very
favourably of her condition. Her old lord dotes on her. She
has large monkeys and little dogs, black pages and white china,
gold and silver dresses, diamonds, rubies, garnets, pearls, emeralds
everything, in short, that one of your sex can desire."
" Except a young husband," interposed Peter. u I wish my
powder-puff was full," he added, aside; "I'd empty it into his
mischievous throat, and choke him."
" Young husband ! fiddlestick !" cried Mr. Cripps. " Lady
.Spinke is a great deal too good a judge for that. She would
rather be an old man's darling than a young man's warling, as
the proverb hath it. And she's right, i' faith. She twists her
old lord round her fingers as easily as a glove."
" Just what I should like to do with my husband," cried the
fair Thomasine.
"You shall twist me round your fingers as easily as you
please, my angel," cried Peter, distractedly. " Plague take him !
what can have brought the fellow here ?"
" Her ladyship, I needn't say, has quitted the stage," pursued
Mr. Cripps. " I heard them talking of going to Ranelagh to-
night"
* Ranelagh 1" sighed the fair Thomasine. " How delightful I
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
And I've never been there since the masquerade, and I begin to
fear I shall never go there again !"
" Delightful, indeed ! if it only lasts !" said Mr. Cripps, who
Lad received a secret sign from the barber.
" Lasts ! what do you mean ?" cried the fair Thomasine.
" Why, between ourselves," replied Mr. Cripps, with a laugh,
" Sir Singleton has had eleven wives already eleven Lady
Spinkes, by this light ! The present lady is the twelfth. They
\vcrc all married at the Fleet."
< Oh, gemini ! twelve wives !" exclaimed the fair Thomasine,
" What a shocking old Turk !"
" You would say so, if you knew the history of the former
Lsidy Spinkes as well as I do," replied Mr. Cripps. " There
were actresses, singers, opera-dancers, mantua-makers, corset-
makers, glove-makers, satin-shoemakers, embroiderers, and ladies
of other vocations that I forget but all young, and all ver} T
pretty ha ! ha ! Why, they all came in a body to call upon
him, the day after his marriage, and it took half-a-dozen con-
stables to get them out of the house."
" And if they had torn out his wicked old eyes they would
have served him right !" cried the fair Thomasine. " I've no
patience with such doings. Twelve wives. Why it's as bad as
a seraglio !"
" Are you now satisfied that you're not one of them, my
angel I" asked the little barber.
" That I am," she replied ; " but I still adhere to my resolu-
tion of not marrying you till Hilda Scarve is united to Randulpb,
Good morning, Mr. Cripps."
The ex-valet made one of his best bows, and handed her to-
the door.
" Cudslid I you ought to thank me, Pokerieh," he said, laugh-
ing ; " the twelve wives did the business put her out of conceit
with the old knight, eh ?"
"You did it capitally," replied Peter; "and now what can I
do for you in return ?"
" A good deal," replied Mr. Cripps. " In the first place, yon
can dress my peruke, which, as you perceive, is cussedly out of
order ; in the second, you can perfume me ; and in the third,^
you can lend me five guineas, for I haven't a rap to bless myself
withal."
" As to dressing your wig, that I'll do with pleasure,' replied
the barber; "and I'll perfume you into the bargain. But I
haven't five pounds to spare I haven't, 'pon rep !"
" Don't steal my adjurations, at all events," cried Mr. Cripps ;
they're the only part of my former self I have left. Devil
knows what will become of me. My master wont give me a
character. I've lost the twenty guineas lent me by my uncle at
the gaming-table, and I can't even borrow a pistol and a prad to
elp me to take a purse."
286 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
A person entering the shop at this moment, Mr. Cripps walked
aside, while the barber, offering his customer a chair, went into
the back room in search of a full-bottomed black wig. On more
narrowly examining the new comer, Mr. Cripps recognised the
Jesuit priest, Father Verselyn, and it instantly occurred to him
that he could turn the discovery to account. Accordingly, he
stepped quickly up to him, and said, in a low tone
u Glad to see you, Father Verselyn pray sit still, sir. How
gets on the good cause, eh ?"
"You are mistaken in me, friend," re plied the priest, uneasily.
" I will soon prove the contrary, sir," rejoined Mr. Cripps,
assuming a different tone. "Unless you tell me where the club
now meets, I'll make you my prisoner."
The priest trembled violently.
" Answer me directly," cried Mr. Cripps, " or I call the barber
to my assistance."
" At the Chequers, in Millbank," replied the priest.
" I'll have better assurance than your word," replied Mr. Cripps.
(e When is the next meeting ?"
" To-night," replied the priest.
" Now I tell you what, father," said Mr. Cripps, " I can get
three hundred pounds for their capture. You shall share it with
me. No buts. A Jesuit never hesitated to betray his friends
when it answered his purpose. Choose between a good reward
and a prison. But here comes the barber. Do you consent?"
The Jesuit nodded.
Having settled his affairs with the barber, Father Verselyn
quitted the shop, while Mr. Cripps, making a sign to Peter that
he had business on hand, instantly followed him, and soon found
that there was no indisposition on the priest's part to join in the
scheme, provided he could do so with safety to himself.
Discussing their project, they proceeded towards Millbank,
and it was arranged, on the suggestion of Verselyn, that the
landlord of the Chequers, who was no other than the former
host of the Rose and Crown, should be included in their design,
and receive a third of the reward.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE SUMMEK-HOUSE AT THE CHEQUERS THE OLD MILL RANDULPH OVERHEARS THB
PLOT DISPERSION OP THE JACOBITE CLUB, AND FATE OF CORDWELL FIREBRAS.
As Randulph passed through the Little Sanctuary, on" his way
to Millbank, he paused for a moment before the dwelling of the
unfortunate miser. Ignorant of the catastrophe that had occurred
there during the night, he could not help thinking that the house
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 237
a drearier look than usual; but attributing the notion to his
own gloomy thoughts, he attached little importance to it, and
passed on.
On gaining Millbank, he speedily discovered the Chequers,
and entering the house, recognised his old acquaintance, the
former landlord of the Rose and Crown. The latter, however,
did not recollect him, but eyed him rather suspiciously, till
Randolph told him he came recommended by Mr. Cordwcll
Firebras.
" Hush 1" exclaimed the host. " He's only known as Captain
Vizard here. My right name is Tom Wiles, but I'm now called
Dick Chinnock. I fancy I've seen you before, sir."
' I was introduced to the club when it met at your house in
Gardiner's-street, Petty France," replied Randulph, "on the
night when the members were pursued by the guard."
" And an unlucky night it was !" exclaimed Chinnock. " We've
never prospered since. I remember you now. I hope you wont
bring the same ill-luck again. How soon will the captain be
here, sir?"
" Not before midnight, I believe," replied Randulph, "and as
I'm a good deal fatigued, I should like to go to bed for a few
hours. I wish to be as private as possible."
"I'll get a bed ready for you directly, sir," replied the host;
" and in the meantime, perhaps you'll step this way."
And passing through aback door, he crossed a little garden, at
the lower end of which stood a little square summer-house, with
a pointed, tiled roof, surmounted by a vane. It overlooked the
river, and on this side there was a platform, protected by a railing,
with steps descending to the water's edge. On the left stood an
old mill a tall, picturesque, wooden structure. Between the
summer-house and the mill flowed a small brook, which turned
a large water-wheel, connected with the latter building. At the
back of the mill, over a dense mass of habitations, could be dis-
tinguished the towers of Westminster Abbey.
Having shown Randulph into the summer-house, the landlord
promised to let him know as soon as his bed was ready, and left
him. The little chamber was furnished with a small deal table,
painted green, and a couple of chairs. Its internal decorations
\vere much injured by damp and neglect. The gay paintings on
the walls and ceilings were nearly effaced ; the gilding had turned
black ; and the looking-glasses were so dim that they scarcely
reflected an object. As Randulph, after taking a momentary
survey of the room, was about to seat himself, he noticed a ring
in the floor, concealed by a bit of carpet, which he removed, and
perceived that it covered a trap-door. Impelled by curiosity, he
lifted the latter by means of the ring, and discovered a lower
chamber, accessible by a ladder, placed against the stout pile
sur porting the floor. There appeared to be nothing in it; and
288 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
satisfied with the discovery he had made, Randulph closed li.et
trap-door, and restored the carpet to its original position.
Drawing his chair to a little window on the left, he threw it
open, and amused himself by examining the old mill. A small
vessel was moored in front of it, apparently filled with sacks of
corn and straw, which some of the crew were unloading.
While watching these proceedings, Randulph could not help
suspecting (though he scarcely knew why,) that some underhand
business was going forward. The sacks were teagled to the
upper story of the mill, and one of them chancing to fall, proved
by its sound that its contents were not what they seemed. The
trusses of straw, too, seemed oddly shaped, and Randulph per-
suaded himself that muskets and other arms were concealed
within them.
If he had not felt quite certain that these proceedings had some
connexion with the Jacobite cause, a circumstance that occurred
almost immediately afterwards would have satisfied him of the
fact. One of the crew in the little vessel observing him at the
window of the summer-house, made various signs to him, which,
though he could not precisely interpret, he understood to bear
relation to the articles they were landing, as well as to their
object.
Soon after this, Mr. Chinnock presented himself, and apolo-
gising for his delays said
" The only bed-room I have is engaged by an invalid, but I've
made you up a nice bed on a sofa, in a snug little closet, where
no one will disturb you."
Following the host into the house, Randulph was shown into a
closet opening into a larger room, where, as had been stated, a
sofa-bed was prepared. He threw himself upon it, without
undressing, and presently fell asleep. How long he remained in
this state he knew not, but he was awakened by the sound of
muttered voices in the next apartment, and became an involun-
tary listener to their discourse.
" They will all be here at midnight," said a voice, " and you
may capture them without difficulty."
" If we do, sir," replied another, " your reward is certain,
though you are a Jesuit priest. I shall bring a strong party of
men with me."
" And I'll take care to admit them," said a third, whose voice
Randulph recognised as that of the landlord, " provided you pro-
mise me a third of the reward, and undertake that I shall not be
implicated in the matter."
" I give you my word, as an officer in his majesty's grenadier
guards, that it shall be so," rejoined the previous speaker, " and
that is better than the written engagement of any Jacobite."
" The reward is three hundred pounds," said a sharp conceited
voice. " That's one hundred to Mr. Chinnock, another hundred
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 289
o Father Versclyn, and a third to me. Is that distinctly under-
stood ?"
(i Distinctly, Mr. Cripps," replied the officer, " provided I take
them.' 7
" Yes, of course," said the landlord ; " but you can't fail to do
so, if you follow my instructions. I'll put them into your hands."
" Can't you come down with something beforehand, captain ?r
I 1 c f\ O ' I
asked Mr. Cripps.
' Not with a crown," replied the officer. "I have already
pledged my word that you shall receive the reward, and that must
content you. It is as much as traitors can expect," he added,
with a contemptuous laugh.
ff You'll take care I am not injured ?" said the Jesuit.
"I'll do my best," replied the officer; "but you must look to
yourself. And now to arrange our plans. As soon as it gets dark,
I'll place half-a-dozen of my grenadiers, under the care of Tom
Pratt (Long Tom, as the men call him), in the summer-house,
near the river. They'll cut off their retreat, if any should be
attempted, by that way."
" Long Tom and his men must hide themselves in the lower
room of the summer-house, till Captain Vizard Imean Cordwell
Firebras has made his search," said Chinnock. "He's sure
to be here the first, and if he's seized too soon, you may lose the
others."
" I must have the whole pack, or you don't get the reward,"
said the officer.
" There's a young man asleep in that closet, sent by the
captain," said the landlord " Fm not quite sure that he's a
Jacobite. What shall we do with him?"
" Detain him," replied the officer. " I hold you responsible for
his safe custody."
" But he's a stout, resolute fellow," said Chinnock, " and may
get off, in spite of me."
" I'll leave you a couple of my grenadiers," replied the officer;
"they'll remain in the bar, like chance customers. Call them,
if you require assistance."
After a little further conversation, which Randulph could not
catch, they separated, and he began to reflect upon the new
posture of affairs. He was now involved in a fresh difficulty,
from which he did not see how he could escape. Though
anxious to warn Cordwell Firebras and the other Jacobites of
their danger, he felt it would be almost impracticable. Any
attempt at flight from the house must be attended with great
risk, after the precaution taken by the others to prevent it, and
he finally resolved to let things take their course, and to be
guided in his plan of action by circumstances.
Determined, however, to ascertain whether his movements were
U
290 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
watched, he walked forth, and proceeded towards the summer-
house. The host was instantly at his side, and he caught a
glimpse of Mr. Cripps in the doorway, and behind him the two
grenadiers. Taking no sort of notice of these hostile prepara-
tions, he talked indifferently to the landlord, and presently
returned with him to the house, and ordered some refreshment.
Evening, at length, arrived, and as it grew dusk, Randulph
gazed into the garden, and perceived the figures of the grenadiers,
headed by Long Tom, steal off towards the summer-house. He
also fancied he saw others station themselves at the side of the
brook running between the inn garden and the mill yard, and he
had no doubt the street door was guarded in a similar manner.
The trap was thus completely set, and he trembled to think
what might be the fate of those for whom, however he differed
with them in political opinions, he still entertained a strong
friendship.
Slowly as the hours had hitherto passed, the interval between
this time and that appointed for the arrival of Cordwell Firebras
appeared yet more tedious. Twelve o'clock came half-past and
yet none of the club had arrived ; and Randulph began to hope
that they had received some intimation of the plot against them.
The same idea apparently occurred to the landlord, for he became
very fidgety, and kept coming constantly into Randulph's room,
asking whether he knew what could be the cause of Captain
Vizard's being so late.
"I'm afraid something must have happened to him and the
other gentlemen," he said; "the Captain is punctuality itself
and so indeed are they all. I wonder what can have occurred.* 1
" Perhaps they may have been betrayed," said Randulph.
"I hope not!" cried the landlord ; "' if so, I should lose my
best friends," he added, correcting himself hastily.
"Do you expect Sir Norfolk Salusbury to-night?" asked
Randulph.
"I did, sir," replied the landlord; " but I don't know what to
think now."
"And Sir Bulkeley Price and Father Verselyn ?"
" Both, sir,'' was the reply.
" Any others ?" inquired Randulph.
" Several, I believe," returned the landlord. " A very full
meeting of the club was expected. What can have kept them
away ? Ah ! as I live, that's the Captain's voice. All's right
now."
So saying, he rushed out, and presently afterwards returned,
ushering in Cordwell Firebras. The latter looked greatly
exhausted.
" Give me a cup of wine, landlord," he said ; " I feel faint,
I've had some hard work to do."
The host instantly flew to a cupboard, and produced a fiask
i triage Ida.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 291
and a large glass. Filling the latter, he presented it to Firebras,
who emptied it at a draught.
"You are late to-night, Captain," said the landlord; "I had
almost given you up. Will the rest of the gentlemen be
here ?"
" I expect so," replied Firebras. " I thought they would have
been here before me. Have you looked into the garden and the
summer-house?"
" I have," replied the landlord.
" I'll go there myself," said the other, taking a brace of pistols
from his pocket. " Stay where you are," he added to Randulph,
who was about to follow him.
Accompanied by the host, who carried a lantern, Firebras
crossed the garden ; but though he glanced around, he perceived
nothing, and marched direct to the summer-house.
On approaching it, Chiunock ran forward, and pretending to
try the door, drew out the key, crying, so as to be heard by
those inside " Dear me I it's locked wait a minute, sir, and
I'll fetch the key."
Without pausing for a reply, he darted off to the house. In
n couple of minutes he returned, apologising to Firebras whom
he found impatiently pacing the platform in front of the summer-
house, and gazing at the darkling tide flowing past him for his
delay ; and unlocked the door.
The summer-house was empty ; the grenadiers had taken the
hint, and descended to the lower chamber. A glance satisfied
Firebras that all was right, and he returned slowly to the house,
the landlord stamping upon the floor as he quitted the building,
as a signal to the grenadiers that they might now come forth
from their concealment.
On reaching the house, Firebras dismissed the landlord, and
going up to Randulph, clapped him on the shoulder, and said
" I have rare news for you."
"And I have news for you," replied the other.
" Hear mine first !" cried Firebras. " What if I tell you I am
come to offer you your estates and the hand of Hilda, it you join
the Jacobite party ?"
" There would be no use in joining you now P returned
llandulph.
" You think I'm trifling with you!" cried Firebras, producing
a packet ; " but this will speak to the contrary. Here is the
assignment of your estates to Isaac Isaacs. A receipt in full of
all claims is attached to it. The deed is yours, provided you
join us."
" You amaze me !" cried Randulph, gazing at the packet ;
" that is unquestionably the deed I executed."
" Most certainly it is," replied Firebras. " It is too long a
story to tell you how I became possessed of it," he added, re-
u 2
292 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER
placing it in his pocket, "but I have other intelligence fcr you.
Mr. Scarvc is dead ! '
Randulph uttered an exclamation of surprise.
" He died last night," pursued Fircbras, " and left his property
to Philip Frewiu, in case of Hilda's refusal to marry him."
" But Philip may not live to claim the fulfilment of the
condition," cried Randulph.
" Philip, also, is dead," replied Fircbras. And smiling at
Randulph's astonishment, he added, " Now you see that all is in
your grasp. Fate has given you the lady of your love. I offer
you your fortune. Can you refuse to join us?"
" Mr. Fircbras," said Randulph, composing himself, " this is
not the time to put such a question to me."
" Pardon me," cried Firebras, sternly, " I must have an answer
now at this moment or you lose your estates and Hilda for
ever. Do not suppose I threaten lightly. I can, and will, make
good my words."
" You mistake me altogether," rejoined Randulph. " I mean
to say, it would be useless for me to assent. You are betrayed."
" Betrayed ?" exclaimed Firebras, in a voice of thunder. " How!
by whom ? But this is a mere assertion made to turn me from
my purpose."
" You will find it too true," replied Randulph. " The house
is environed on all sides by grenadiers."
" I have just visited the summer-house," said Firebras.
" There was no one there."
" The men were concealed in the lower chamber," said Ran-
dulph.
"It may be so," cried Firebras, with terrible imprecation.
" But they shall not take me easily. My pistols ! ha I they have
been removed ! The landlord, then, is our betrayer."
" He is," replied Randulph. " Your only chance of escape is
apparent unconsciousness of the design. You might, perhaps,
make good your own retreat but the others "
" I will never desert them," said Firebras. " There is a boat
at hand, for I ordered Jacob Post to be in waiting for you off
the summer-house for another purpose, and I caught a glimpse
of him just now. Ha! here come our friends." And as he
spoke, Sir Norfolk Salusbury, Sir Bulkeley Price, Father
Verselyn, Mr. Travers, and four or five other gentlemen, entered
the room.
" Leave us, landlord," said Firebras ; " we will call you when
we want you."
And the order being obeyed, he bolted the door.
" We are betrayed, gentlemen," said Firebras, in a low tone ;
" the house is surrounded by guards, and our retreat is cut off
by the river."
As the words were uttered, the door was tried by some per-
T?E MISER'S DAUGHTER. 2.93
sons without, who, finding it fastened, proceeded to burst it
open.
" To the garden ! to the garden !" cried Firebras.
And the party made for the window. Before, however, the
whole of them could pass through it, the officer, and a party of
grenadiers burst open the door, and endeavoured to seize them.
Firebras, and the others, with the exception of Randulph, drew
their swords, and the next instant, an encounter took place.
But, as all was buried in darkness, little mischief was done.
In spite of the efforts of the soldiers to prevent them, five or
six of the Jacobites contrived to get across the ditch, and gain-
ing the mill, took shelter within it. They were followed by a
party of grenadiers, who fired a few shots at them. Whether
the circumstance was the result of accident or design is imma-
terial, but a few minutes afterwards the mill was found to be
on fire. Flames burst from the upper windows, throwing a
fierce glare on the groups below, and brightly illumining the
towers of Westminster Abbey.
Repeated loud explosions were next heard, threatening each
moment to shake the mill to pieces ; while some of the unfortu-
nate Jacobites were seen springing from a side window upon the
water-wheel, and trying to descend by it. Two others, at the
risk of breaking their necks, dropped from a window facing the
river, and endeavoured to gain the vessel moored beside it. The
fugitives on the water-wheel were held in check by a party
of grenadiers, who, having thrown a couple of planks over the
iittle stream, were enabled to reach them.
Meanwhile, favoured by the previous Darkness, for all was now
bright as day, Firebras, Salusbury, and the rest of the Jacobites,
made good their retreat as far as the summer-house. Some of
them even managed to force their way to the platform. Here a
desperate struggle took place, in which Sir Norfolk was severely
wounded in the side by a bayonet.
By this time the fire had broken out in the mill, and its glare
showed Jacob at a little distance in a skiff. Notwithstanding
the menaces of the soldiers, who pointed their guns at him, and
threatened to fire if he approached nearer, Jacob pushed reso-
lutely towards the summer-house. Pie was now close under the
platform, and made sisrns to Randulph to descend, but the latter
would not desert Sir Norfolk, who had been seized by a couple
of grenadiers. He threw himself upon the old baronet's captors,
and in the struggle that ensued, the railing gave way, precipi-
tating Sir Bulkeley Price, the Jesuist, and the grenadiers into
the tide. Before the other soldiers had recovered from their
surprise at this occurrence, Randulph had lowered Sir Norfolk
into the skiff, and sprung in after him.
Jacob's efforts to push off were impeded by Sir Bulkeley
Price, who clung to the stern of the skiff, earnestly imploring
294 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
them to take him in. Father Verselyn caught hold of the steps,
and apprehensive of some further disaster, crept along the side
of the summer-house, and took refuge in a small sewer, in tho
slime of which it is supposed he perished, for he was never
heard of more.
Meanwhile, Cordwell Firebras engaged hand to hand with
the officer, who, having vainly summoned him to surrender,
attacked him in person had reached the platform. Seeing
escape impossible, Firebras, while defending himself against the
officer, called to llandulph, whom he descried below, and held
but the packet lo him. The latter ordered Jacob to keep the
skiff steady, and to bring it as near the combatants as possible.
While Jacob obeyed the injunction, a successful thrust from
Firebras stretched his adversary upon the platform, but the next
moment he received his own death-wound from Long Tom, who
stepped forward, as his officer fell, and discharged his musket
into his breast.
With a dying effort Firebras stretched his hand over the rail,
and, consigning the packet to Randulph, fell backwards into the
water.
Possessed of the packet, Randulph turned to the aid of Sir
Bulkeley Price, and pulling him into the skiff', Jacob instantly
pushed off. Assisted by the stream, which ran very strong, they
soon got under the sides of the vessel near the mill, and were
sheltered from the fire of the soldiery.
Meanwhile, the conflagration raged fast and furiously, and
before the skiff containing the fugitives had got half way to-
Westminster Bridge, a tremendous explosion took place, scatter-
ing the blazing fragments of the old mill far and wide into the*
river.
CHAPTER XVII.
IN WHICH THE WEDDING-DAY IS FIXED.
ABOUT three months 'after the events detailed in the preceding
chapter, a family party were assembled in the dining-room of
the house at Lambeth, consisting of Abel, Trussell, Mrs. Crew,
and Hilda. The latter was dressed in deep mourning, and had
a shade of melancholy on her countenance, which rather added
to her beauty than detracted from it. She sat near Abel Beech-
croft, who regarded her with parental affection, and whose
features, having lost their somewhat cynical and saturnine cast,
now expressed only benevolence and kindliness. Always placid
and composed, Mrs. Crew looked more cheerful than before;
nnd Trussell, who, indeed, was rarely out of humour, appeared
ji tip-top spirits. In short, a happier party never met together.
Nor did their attendant, Mr. Jukes, appear a whit less contented.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 295
" Well, my dear niece," said Trussell, " for so I shall make
bold to call you, in anticipation of our intended relationship,
we shall certainly have Randulph back to-day."
" This morning, do you think ?" she rejoined.
" Why, no, possibly not till evening," said Trussell. " Ah,
sir !" he added, to Abel, ' how different our nephew's present
journey from Cheshire is from the last. Then he came with
very little money in his pocket, and very little prospect of
getting any deprived of his inheritance, and with no apparent
prospect of its restitution. Now he arrives a wealthy man,
with a prospect of such happiness before him as a king might
envy !"
" It's a story to write in a book," said Mr. Jukes, rubbing his
eyes.
" I fear the two months during which Randulph has been
absent must have passed very slowly over your head, Hilda?"
>bserved Abel. " I may ask you the question now that we
shall so soon have him with us again."
" To say that I have not felt his absence, and wished for his
return, would not be to speak the truth, sir," she replied; "but
it would be equally untrue to say that I have not been happier
during the period you mention than I ever was in my life. How,,
indeed, could it be otherwise, when I have experienced so much
attention from you, from your brother, and from Mrs. Crew?"
"I'm sure there is nothing we wouldn't do to make you:
happy," said Mrs. Crew.
"Nothing!" cried Mr. Jukes, emphatically "nothing we
wouldn't do."
"I beg pardon, Mr. Jukes," said Hilda; "I ought to have
included you in the list of my kind friends."
" You make me proud to hear you say so," replied Mr. Juke^
** I told my master, long before things came to this, that nothing
would make me so happy as to see you in this house, married to
Mr. Randulph. And I told him also that we would have one of
the upper rooms turned into a nursery, and that he should sit in
an easy chair, nursing a little Randulph, or a little Abel, as the
case may be, with a Miss Hilda, or a Miss Sophia, playing,
beside him. Didn't I tell you that, sir ?"
"You did you did," replied Abel, hastily.
Get me some usquebaugh, Mr. Jukes," said Trussell, who
almost choked himself with laughing at the butler's speech, while
Hilda was covered with blushes, and Mrs. Crew looked a little
confused. . .
The order was promptly obeyed, and Trussell, as he raised
the glass to his lips, said, " May I live to see the realization of
Mr. Jukes's wish !"
" I must drink that toast myself," said the butler, retiring to
the sideboard.
296 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
u By-the-bye, Hilda," said Trussell, laughing, " I haven't told
you what has become of your disconsolate suitor, Beau Viliiers,
who wouldn't be content till you had refused him half a dozen
times? Disappointed in his hope of obtaining you, or rather
your fortune, he laid siege to Lady Spinke, and has eloped with
her to Paris !"
" A proper consummation to his folly," observed Abel.
" But the best is to come," pursued Trussell. " Sir Singleton's
marriage, as you know, took place at the Fleet, and not having
the fear of courts of law before his eyes, nor thinking it neces-
sary to get a divorce, the old beau is actually going to marry
a<iain. And this time his choice has fallen upon whom do you
think ? Lady Brabazon !"
" I'm glad that odious woman's got rid of, in any way," said
Mrs. Crew. " I never could endure her."
" By-the-bye, Mr. Jukes," said Trussell, laughing to himself
at his sister's vivacitv, " I never heard what became of your
nephew, Mr. Cripps?"
" I'm happy to say he's a reformed character, sir," replied the
butler. " He was mixed up in some way or other, I don't know
how, with that Jacobite disturbance, where Mr. Cordwell Firebras
met his death, and received a very awkward wound, which put
him in danger of his life. Since then he has become quite an
altered person, and neither drinks, games, nor dresses, as he used
to do. He's at present living with a very quiet family in
Abingdon-street; and, as far as I can learn, is doing his duty."
" I'm glad to hear it," said Abel ; " and since that is the case,
I'll take care you sha'n't lose the twenty guineas you were foolish
enough to lend him."
Mr. Jukes made a suitable acknowledgment.
The breakfast things were taken away, but the party were still
chatting over the table, when the door suddenly opened, and
Randulph rushed into the room. He was in his travelling attire,
and though somewhat embrowned, looked handsomer, Hilda
thought, than she had ever seen him except on the occasion of
his first visit to her father's house. He was followed by Jacob
Post, who had attended him in his journey, and who shook hands
heartily with Mr. Jukes.
Hilda, who had risen at Randulph's approach, was instantly
locked in his embrace. The tears started to Abel's eyes as ho
regarded the meeting of the young couple; Mrs. Crew gazed at
them with fond delight ; but Trussell, who was not quite so much
interested in lovers' meetings, availed himself of the opportunity
of taking a pinch of snuff.
" Well, you're looking vastly well, Randulph, I must say,"
observed Trussell, after his nephew's affectionate greetings had
gone all round. " I don't think the country has disagreed with
you."
HI! MISER'S DAUGHTER. 297
" It is the quiet life he has led there, brother, and the early
hours he has kept, that have agreed with him," observed Abel.
' You are right, uncle," replied Randulph, " and I am now
quite convinced, from the experiment I have just made, that a
quiet life is more to my taste than a gay one."
" I am glad to hear you say so !" cried Abel.
Trussell made no remark,but he slightly shrugged his shoulders,
and took an inordinate pinch of snuff.
" You don't believe me, I see, uncle," said Randulph, laughing.
" But I assure you it is the case. And I have no doubt I shall
bring you to my opinion, when I get you down to Cheshire."
" When you do get me there, I've no doubt you will," replied
Trussell, somewhat drily. "Town agrees with me perfectly.
Every one to his taste."
"And your tenants were glad to see you, Randulph, I am
sure," said his mother, taking his hand.
" They were, indeed," replied Randulph ; " and I never
experienced greater gratification than when they were collected
in the old hall, and I told them I was once more their landlord.
Their shouts made the rafters ring again. They all wished to see
their mistress that is to be," he continued, gazing tenderly at
Hilda.
" And I see not why their satisfaction should be delayed,"
replied Abel. " The considerations of decorum that apply to
others do not apply to Hilda. So much of her life has been
passed in self-sacrifice and trouble, that the sooner she is recom-
pensed for it the better."
" The best thing we can do is to leave the young couple alone
together to fix the day," said Trussell. " Make it as early as
you can, Randulph; and notwithstanding the objections I raised
to the country just now, I shall be happy to spend a month or
two with you at Crew Hall, whenever you choose to invite me."
u The house will always be your home, my dear uncle," said
Randulph. "No one will be more welcome."
Acting upon TrusselFs hint, the others then withdrew. Though
Randulph had a thousand things to say to Hilda, he could
recollect none of them : but perhaps the expressions of rapturous
devotion he was able to utter were fully as agreeable to his
listener's ear as any other kind of discourse he might have
adopted.
Thus more than half an hour passed away so swiftly, so dc-
lightfullv, that the lovers did not know they had been alone
many minutes, when they were interrupted by a discreet tap at
the door.
" Come in," said Randulph.
" Beg pardon," said Mr. Jukes, cautiously obeying the sum-
mons, " but Miss Thomasine Deacle is without, and wishes to
speak to Miss Scarve."
298 THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
" With me I" exclaimed Hilda, in surprise.
" I told her you were engaged with Mr. Randulph particularly
engaged," replied the butler; "but she said she didn't mind that.
She wants to see you on a matter material to her happiness."
" She is a strange creature," said Hilda, smiling at the recol-
lection of her former interview with her. " I dare say she wants
to tell me something about Peter Pokerich."
" Very likely," said the butler, " for he is with her.'
" Well, let them come in," replied Hilda.
And the next moment, the fair Thomasinc and the little barber
were ushered into the room.
" I trust you will excuse this intrusion, Miss Scarve," said the
fair Thomasine, who was a little disposed to be in heroics; " but
I have a favour to beg of you. You are aware of the admiration
I have always entertained for you of the devotion I have felt
towards you "
"I am quite sensible of both," interrupted Hilda, smiling;
"but the favour?"
" After all, my heart fails me I cannot ask it," said the fair
Thomasine, turning away in confusion.
" I'll tell you what it is," interposed Peter ; " she declares
she'll never have me, unless we're married on the same day as
you and Mr. Randulph."
" On the same day, and at the same church," said the fair
Thomasine, exhibiting a face like a blush rose. " The favour I
wished to ask you, was your consent to this arrangement. Peter
met Mr. Randulph and Jacob crossing Westminster Bridge, on
their return from Cheshire this morning, and we thought we had
better lose no time in making the request."
" My consent was scarcely required," said Hilda ; (e but as soon
as the day is fixed, you shall know it."
" I hope it will be soon !" cried Peter ; "I'm tired of being put
off so often."
" It would ill become me to exhibit any impatience," said the
fair Thomasine, casting down her eyes.
" I sympathize with their situation, Hilda," said Randulph,
taking her hand. " Can we not give them an answer now.
To-day is Thursday. Let it be Monday next."
" Oh yes, Monday, by all means ?" cried Peter, jumping into
the air, and clapping his hands.
" I dare not urge Miss Scarve to greater expedition," said the
fair Thomasine, still looking down ; " but "
" Your answer !" cried Peter, throwing himself on his knees
before Hilda.
" Yes, your answer !" cried the fair Thomasine, kneeling down
beside Peter.
"You cannot resist these entreaties, Hilda," said Randulph,
smiling.
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 299
< I cannot, indeed," she replied. Be it as you propose."
Our marriage will take place on Monday/' said Randulph :
and we shall be united at the parish church at Lambeth "
"How charming!" cried Peter, rising, and assisting the fair
fhomasme to her feet. We can go there in a boat. Wont
that be delightful?'*
"I shall never forget this obligation, Miss Scarve," said the
fair Ihomasme, taking Hilda's hand, and pressing it to her lips;
< and may the day you have fixed be productive of happiness to
both of us. We deserve to be rewarded for the troubles we have
experienced."
And dropping a lowcurtesy to Randulph, she took her depar-
ture with Peter, who skipped out of the room, scarcely able to
contain himself for joy.
CHAPTER XVIIL
DETAILING AN EVENT WHICH MAY POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN ANTICIPATED FROM
THE PRECEDING CHAPTER.
WE shall hurry over the intervening period as rapidly as the
lovers themselves would have hurried it over, and proceed at once
to the wished-for day.
A little before nine o'clock, on this eventful morning, Ran-
dulph, who had taken up his quarters with Sir Bulkeley Price,
in Saint James's-square, entered the breakfast-room, arrayed in
his bridal attire, which had been prepared for him by the skilful
hands of Desmartins. He found Sir Bulkeley Price and Sir
Norfolk Salusbury at the table the latter having come up from
Wales, whither he had retired to recruit himself after his wound,
expressly to attend the ceremony. After receiving their con-
gratulations, Randulph sat down with them, but as he could only
swallow a cup of chocolate, he underwent much rallying on his
want of appetite.
Breakfast over, the party drove to Whitehall Stairs, where a
six-oared barge was in readiness to convey them across the river.
Jacob Post was appointed coxswain of this barge, and he wore a
waterman's coat of scarlet cloth, and velvet jockey-shaped cap of
the same colour. The six rowers were attired in the same livery,
dnd presented a very gay appearance.
The morning was bright and beautiful, and everything seemed
to Randulph to participate in his happiness. Each boat that
parsed them, seeing the purpose on which they were bent,
cheered them cordially, and Jacob, who was greatly elated,
returned their greetings lustily.
As they passed through Westminster Bridge, and shaped their
SOO THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.
rapid course to Lambeth, they passed a boat containing a couple
in bridal attire, and rowed by watermen with favours in their
caps. These were Mr. Rathbone and Mrs. Nettleship, who,
having made a composition with their creditors, had come to the
conclusion that the best thing they could do would be to fulfil
their original agreement, and having heard that Randulph and
Hilda were to be united at Lambeth, they determined, like Peter
Pokerich and the fair Thomasine, to be married at the same time,
and at the same church. The boats cheered each other as they
passed.
Shortly after this, they came up with a four-oared cutter, in
which was a still more gaily dressed bridal party, consisting of
Mr. and Mrs. Deacle, the fair Thomasine, and Peter Pokerich.
The sunny tresses, bright eyes, and dimpling cheeks of the bride
attracted Sir Bulkeley's admiration, and he called out to Peter
that he ought to consider himself a very happy man; to which
the little barber replied, " that he was the happiest man in the
world Mr. Crew excepted."
Another cheering passed between the rowers ; and Randulph 's
barge swept over the sparkling waters to the stairs near Lambeth
Palace, where he and his companions disembarked.
As Abel Beechcroft was extremely well known and highly
respected in the neighbourhood, great preparations were made
to lend eclat to his nephew's wedding. A band of music was
stationed on a lighter moored near the stairs; and the lighter
itself was hung all over with flags and streamers. The band was
playing, the bells ringing, and as Randulph leaped ashore, a loud
shout from the crowd collected to see him land, welcomed him,
while many flattering comments, in no very low key, were made
upon his handsome appearance by the female part of the assem-
blage. In passing towards his uncle's residence, Randulph noticed
with interest a troop of pretty little girls with wreaths round their
heads, and baskets of flowers in their hands, standing in the path
leading to the church.
The party were admitted by Mr. Jukes, whose portly figure
\vas well displayed in an expansive snowy waistcoat, a brown
coat, spick and span new for the occasion, and a well-powdered
bob-wig. The worthy butler gave Randulph a hearty welcome,
and wished him many years of happiness, and having ushered
him and the others into the parlour, returned to the hall to
Jacob, to give him wedding favours for himself and the water-
men, which the other hastened to distribute.
The meeting between the young bride and bridegroom was
full of agitated delight. Abel looked perfectly happy, but
thoughtful, as did Mrs. Crew, whose emotion found relief in an
occasional sigh not the sigh of misgiving, but the relief of a
joy-oppressed heart. Trussell was, as usual, in very high spirits.
He shook Randulph heartily by the hand, wished him all sort*
THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. 301
of happiness, and then cordially greeted the Welsh baronets.
Besides Mrs. Clinton, there was another young lady present, the
daughter of an old friend of Mrs. Crew's, a Miss Wilbraham, who
acted as bridesmaid to Hilda.
Soon afterwards, all being declared in readiness, the bride
prepared to set forth, under the care of Abel Beechcroft, who,,
before they quitted the house, in an earnest tone invoked a
blessing on her head and on that of his nephew. And both
felt that the blessing of so good a man would not be thrown,
away!
Cheered by the good wishes and smiling countenances of the
groups through which they passed, and enlivened by the sun-
shine, the party entered the church. Peter Pokerich and the
lair Thomasine, with Mr. Rathbone and Mrs. Nettleship, were
already standing beside the altar. The young couple advanced,,
and took the central place, and the church was instantly crowded
with spectators.
The service was admirably performed by a venerable clergy-
man an old and valued friend of Abel's, and at its close, the
concourse issued from the church, dividing into two lines, so as
to allow a passage for the wedding train. As soon as the happy
couple were seen issuing hand-in-hand from the Gothic portal of
the old church, a loud and joyous shout was raised by the
assemblage, a couple of guns were fired on board the lighter,
and the church bells rang forth a joyous peal.
It was a heart-cheering sight, and many a breast throbbed,
and many an eye grew moist at beholding it. And plenty of
spectators there were. The whole of the area before the church
was filled, and the windows and towers of the old archiepiscopat
palace were studded with faces. The little flower-girls now
stepped forward, and strewed their fragrant offerings in the path
of the happy pair, who walked on amid the continued cheers ot
the bystanders.
A little behind Randulph, on the right, walked Trusscll, who,.
excited by the general enthusiasm, had placed his hat on his
cane, and waved it to the crowd. Near him came Abel and
Miss Wilbraham, the former with a glowing smile on his coun-
tenance, such as Mr. Jukes himself never remembered to have
witnessed. After them walked Sir Norfolk Salusbury and Mrs.
Crew.
Next in order came Mr. and Mrs. Pokerich, the latter of whom
thought it decorous to turn aside her pretty face from the ardent
gaze of her enamoured little lord. Lastly came Mr. and Mrs*
Rathbone, whose appearance did not seem greatly to interest the
spectators. Sir Bulkeley Price had posted himself on the iett of
the church-door, to watch the wedding train pass by, and to wait
the coming forth of the clergyman.
As Randulph advanced through the crowd, Jacob Post stepped
302 THE MISER'S
forward, and holding out his rough, honest hand to him, said in
a voice, the sincerity of which could not be doubted,
" God bless you, sir, and your lovely bride, and may you kr^w
years of uninterrupted happiness!"
"And take my blessing, too," said Mr. Jukes, likewise ex-
tending his hand. "An old man's good wishes, though he oe
but a dependent, can do no harm."
" I thank you both I" cried Rundulph, in a voice of emotion ;
" and my wife thanks you too."
" I do I do," she replied ; nor do I doubt the fulfilment ot
your wishes."
And as she uttered these words, loud and deafening cheers
rent the air, and another discharge of guns took place.
In this way they proceeded to the house, where they were
followed by the rest of the party, and presently afterwards by
the clergyman and Sir Bulkeley. They then all sat down to an
excellent repast.
By desire of his hospitable master, Mr. Jukes invited the other
couples and their friends to take refreshments at his house, which,
as they delightedly availed themselves of the offer, were served
to them in the summer-house overlooking the river; where, while
enjoying themselves, they did not forget to drink long life and
happiness to Randulph and his bride.
The honeymoon all the rest of their life was a honeymoon
was passed by the happy couple, in good old-fashioned style, at
Lambeth. They then proceeded to Cheshire, accompanied by
Trussell and Mrs. Crew, and were soon afterwards followed by
Abel, who passed the winter with them.
In due time, the prognostications of Mr. Jukes were fulfilled,
and Abel displayed no objection to the endearments of two great-
nieces and a great-nephew.
Appointed Randulph's head-gamekeeper, Jacob Post passed
the remainder of his days in the service of his new master.
Of the two brothers Bcechcroft, Abel was the first to pay the
debt of nature, Trussell survived him two or three years, during
which he was a great martyr to gout. He never, however, lost
his temper, except when young Master Randulph accidentally
trod on his toe, and then he would swear a round oath, to
frighten him, and try to hit at him with his stick, as testy old
gentlemen are wont to do in plays.
Randulph and Hilda almost touched the verge of the present
century; and from the anecdotes of one of their descendants, in
the third generation, the materials of the present Tale have been
collected.
THE END
-A
RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT
* 202 Main Librar
LOAN PERIOD 1
HOME USE
fo
z
3
4
5
6
ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS
1 -month loans may be renewed by calling 642-3405
6-month loans may be recharged by bringing books to Circulation Desk
Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days prior to due date
DUE AS STAMPED BELOW
/
, t
* RaterneJ by
MAR 0'
11994
JUN 1 y /97c
/MRi
. jcPT.
&* n !v Cruz Jitney
npr 1 g 2009
v.'R. |[IM 9 107
UL 1 * w fcw*
1 .
~LRARY us
EONLY
'
JAN 2 &
1993
iCIRCULATlO
L
40EPT.
DISC CIRC JAN 26'
/
)3
hi? 2M*
4
i/ Ml
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY
FORM NO. DD6, 60m, 1 1 778 BERKELEY, CA 94720
^H
-X
U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES
V