Tales and Novels Volume VIII Part 6

Yes--that, Alfred said, he knew; but what did her ladyship do with it?

"You know how I got it! Bless me! you seem to know every thing I do and say. You know my affairs vastly well--you act the conjuror admirably--pray, can you tell me whom I am to marry?"

"That I will--when your ladyship has told me to whom you gave that seal."

"That I would, and welcome, if I could recollect--but I really can't. If you think I gave it to Mr. Temple, I a.s.sure you, you are mistaken--you may ask him."

"I know your ladyship did not give it to Mr. Temple--but to whom did you give it?"

"I remember now--not to any gentleman, after all--you are positively out. I gave it to Mrs. Falconer."

"You are certain of that, Lady Frances Arlington?"

"I am certain, Mr. Alfred Percy."

"And how can you prove it to me, Lady Frances?"

"The easiest way in the world--by asking Mrs. Falconer. Only I don't go there now much, since Georgiana and I have quarrelled--but what can make you so curious about it?"

"That's a secret."--At the word _secret_, her attention was fixed.--"May I ask if your ladyship would know the seal again if you saw it?--Is this any thing like the impression?" (showing her the seal on the forged cover.)

"The very same that I gave Mrs. Falconer, I'll swear to it--I'll tell you how I know it particularly. There's a little outer rim here, with points to it, which there is not to the other. I fastened my bread-seal into an old setting of my own, from which I had lost the stone. Mrs.

Falconer took a fancy to it, among a number of others, so I let her have it. Now I have answered all your questions--answer mine--Whom am I to marry?"

"Your ladyship will marry whomsoever--your ladyship _pleases_."

"That was an ambiguous answer," she observed; "for that she _pleased_ every body." Her ladyship was going to run on with some further questions, but Alfred pretending that the oracle was not permitted to answer more explicitly, left her completely in the dark as to what his meaning had been in this whole conversation.

He reported progress to Lord Oldborough--and his lordship slept as soundly this night as he did the night after he had been attacked by the mob.

The next morning the first person he desired to see was Mr.

Falconer--his lordship sent for him into his cabinet.

"Mr. Commissioner Falconer, I promised to give you notice, whenever I should see any probability of my going out of power."

"Good Heaven! my lord," exclaimed the commissioner, starting back. The surprise, the consternation were real--Lord Oldborough had his eye upon him to determine that point.

"Impossible, surely!--I hope--"

His hope flitted at the moment to the Duke of Greenwich--but returned instantly: he had made no terms--had missed his time. If Lord Oldborough should go out of office--his place, his pension, gone--utter ruin.

Lord Oldborough marked the vacillation and confusion of his countenance, and saw that he was quite unprepared.

"I hope--Merciful Powers! I trust--I thought your lordship had triumphed over all your enemies, and was firmer in favour and power than ever.

What can have occurred?"

Without making any answer, Lord Oldborough beckoned to the commissioner to approach nearer the window where his lordship was standing, and then suddenly put into his hand the cover with the forged handwriting and seal.

"What am I to understand by this, my lord?" said the bewildered commissioner, turning it backwards and forwards. "Captain Nuttall!--I never saw the man in my life. May I ask, my lord, what I am to comprehend from this?"

"I see, sir, that you know nothing of the business."

The whole was explained by Lord Oldborough succinctly. The astonishment and horror in the poor commissioner's countenance and gestures, and still more, the eagerness with which he begged to be permitted to try to discover the authors of this forgery, were sufficient proofs that he had not the slightest suspicion that the guilt could be traced to any of his own family.

Lord Oldborough's look, fixed on the commissioner, expressed what it had once before expressed--"Sir, from my soul, I pity you!"

The commissioner saw this look, and wondered why Lord Oldborough should pity _him_ at a time when all his lordship's feelings should naturally be for himself.

"My lord, I would engage we shall discover--we shall trace it."

"I believe that I have discovered--that I have traced it," said Lord Oldborough; and he sighed.

Now that sigh was more incomprehensible to the commissioner than all the rest, and he stood with his lips open for a moment before he could utter, "Why then resign, my lord?"

"That is my affair," said Lord Oldborough. "Let us, if you please, sir, think of yours; for, probably, this is the only time I shall ever more have it in my power to be of the least service to you."

"Oh! my lord--my lord, don't say so!" said the commissioner quite forgetting all his artificial manner, and speaking naturally: "the last time you shall have it in your power!--Oh! my dear lord, don't say so!"

"My dear sir, I must--it gives me pain--you see it does."

"At such a time as this to think of me instead of yourself! My lord, I never knew you till this moment--so well."

"Nor I you, sir," said Lord Oldborough. "It is the more unfortunate for us both, that our connexion and intercourse must now for ever cease."

"Never, never, my lord, if you were to go out of power to-morrow--which Heaven, in its mercy and justice, forbid! I could never forget the goodness--I would never desert--in spite of all interest--I should continue--I hope your lordship would permit me to pay my duty--all intercourse could never cease."

Lord Oldborough saw, and almost smiled at the struggle between the courtier and the man--the confusion in the commissioner's mind between his feelings and his interest. Partly his lordship relieved, and partly he pained Mr. Falconer, by saying, in his firm tone, "I thank you, Mr.

Falconer; but all intercourse must cease. After this hour, we meet no more. I beg you, sir, to collect your spirits, and to listen to me calmly. Before this day is at an end, you will understand why all farther intercourse between us would be useless to your interest, and incompatible with my honour. Before many hours are past, a blow will be struck which will go to your heart--for I see you have one--and deprive you of the power of thought. It is my wish to make that blow fall as lightly upon you as possible."

"Oh! my lord, your resignation would indeed be a blow I could never recover. The bare apprehension deprives me at this moment of all power of thought; but still I hope--"

"Hear me, sir, I beg, without interruption: it is my business to think for you. Go immediately to the Duke of Greenwich, make what terms with him you can--make what advantage you can of the secret of my approaching resignation--a secret I now put in your power to communicate to his grace, and which no one yet suspects--I having told it to no one living but to yourself. Go quickly to the duke--time presses--I wish you success--and a better patron than I have been, than my principles would permit me to be. Farewell, Mr. Falconer."

The commissioner moved towards the door when Lord Oldborough said "_Time presses_;" but the commissioner stopped--turned back--could not go: the tears--real tears--rolled down his cheeks--Lord Oldborough went forward, and held out his hand to him--the commissioner kissed it, with the reverence with which he would have kissed his sovereign's hand; and bowing, he involuntarily backed to the door, as if quitting the presence of majesty.

"It is a pity that man was bred a mere courtier, and that he is cursed with a family on none of whom there is any dependence," thought Lord Oldborough, as the door closed upon the commissioner for ever.

Lord Oldborough delayed an hour purposely, to give Mr. Falconer advantage of the day with the Duke of Greenwich: then ordered his carriage, and drove to--Mrs. Falconer's.

Great was her surprise at the minister's entrance.--"Concerned the commissioner was not at home."

"My business is with Mrs. Falconer."

"My lord--your lordship--the honour and the pleasure of a visit--Georgiana, my dear."

Mrs. Falconer nodded to her daughter, who most unwillingly, and as if dying with curiosity, retired.

The smile died away upon Mrs. Falconer's lips as she observed the stern gravity of Lord Oldborough's countenance. She moved a chair towards his lordship--he stood, and leaning on the back of the chair, paused, as he looked at her.