Alice, or the Mysteries — Complete

a young lady who is staying at the rectory,--Miss Cameron." Maltravers sighed heavily; and the old gentleman looked at him curiously. "Perhaps, sir, if you know that neighbourhood, you may have seen--" "Miss Cameron! Certainly; it is an honour not easily forgotten." The old gentleman looked pleased. "The dear child!" said he, with a burst of honest affection, and he passed his hand over his eyes. Maltravers drew near to him. "You know Miss Cameron; you are to be envied, sir," said he. "I have known her since she was a child; Lady Vargrave is my dearest friend." "Lady Vargrave must be worthy of such a daughter. Only under the light of a sweet disposition and pure heart could that beautiful nature have been trained and reared." Maltravers spoke with enthusiasm; and, as if fearful to trust himself more, left the room. "That gentleman speaks not more warmly than justly," said the old man, with some surprise. "He has a countenance which, if physiognomy be a true science, declares his praise to be no common compliment; may I inquire his name?" "Maltravers," replied Cleveland, a little vain of the effect his ex-pupil's name was to produce. The curate--for it was he--started and changed countenance. "Maltravers! but he is not about to leave the county?" "Yes, for a few months." Here the host entered. Four horses, that had been only fourteen miles, had just re-entered the yard. If Mr. Maltravers could spare two to that gentleman, who had, indeed, pre-engaged them? "Certainly," said Cleveland; "but be quick." "And is Lord Vargrave still at Mr. Merton's?" asked the curate, musingly. "Oh, yes, I believe so. Miss Cameron is to be married to him very shortly,--is it not so?" "I cannot say," returned Aubrey, rather bewildered. "You know Lord Vargrave, sir?" "Extremely well!" "And you think him worthy of Miss Cameron?" "That is a question for her to answer. But I see the horses are put to. Good-day, sir! Will you tell your fair young friend that you have met an old gentleman who wishes her all happiness; and if she ask you his name, say Cleveland?" So saying, Mr. Cleveland bowed, and re-entered the carriage. But Maltravers was yet missing. In fact, he returned to the house by the back way, and went once more into the little parlour. It was something to see again one who would so soon see Evelyn! "If I mistake not," said Maltravers, "you are that Mr. Aubrey on whose virtues I have often heard Miss Cameron delight to linger? Will you believe my regret that our acquaintance is now so brief?" As Maltravers spoke thus simply, there was in his countenance, his voice, a melancholy sweetness, which greatly conciliated the good curate; and as Aubrey gazed upon his noble features and lofty mien, he no longer wondered at the fascination he had appeared to exercise over the young Evelyn. "And may I not hope, Mr. Maltravers," said he, "that before long our acquaintance may be renewed? Could not Miss Cameron," he added, with a smile and a penetrating look, "tempt you into Devonshire?" Maltravers shook his head, and, muttering something not very audible, quitted the room. The curate heard the whirl of the wheels, and the host entered to inform him that his own carriage was now ready. "There is something in this," thought Aubrey, "which I do not comprehend. His manner, his trembling voice, bespoke emotions he struggled to conceal. Can Lord Vargrave have gained his point? Is Evelyn, indeed, no longer free?" CHAPTER V. CERTES, c'est un grand cas, Icas, Que toujours tracas ou fracas Vous faites d'une ou d'autre sort; C'est le diable qui vous emporte!*--VOITURE. * "Certes, it is the fact, Icas, that you are always engaged in tricks or scrapes of some sort or other; it must be the devil that bewitches you." LORD VARGRAVE had passed the night of the ball and the following morning at Knaresdean. It was necessary to bring the counsels of the scheming conclave to a full and definite conclusion; and this was at last effected. Their strength numbered, friends and foes alike canvassed and considered, and due account taken of the waverers to be won over, it really did seem, even to the least sanguine, that the Saxingham or Vargrave party was one that might well aspire either to dictate to, or to break up, a government. Nothing now was left to consider but the favourable hour for action. In high spirits, Lord Vargrave returned about the middle of the day to the rectory. "So," thought he, as he reclined in his carriage,--"so, in politics, the prospect clears as the sun breaks out. The party I have espoused is one that must be the most durable, for it possesses the greatest property and the most stubborn prejudice--what elements for Party! All that I now require is a sufficient fortune to back my ambition. Nothing can clog my way but these cursed debts, this disreputable want of gold. And yet Evelyn alarms me! Were I younger, or had I not made my position too soon, I would marry her by fraud or by force,--run off with her to Gretna, and make Vulcan minister to Plutus. But this would never do at my years, and with my reputation. A pretty story for the newspapers, d-----n them! Well, nothing venture, nothing have; I will brave the hazard! Meanwhile, Doltimore is mine; Caroline will rule him, and I rule her. His vote and his boroughs are something,--his money will be more immediately useful: I must do him the honour to borrow a few thousands,--Caroline must manage that for me. The fool is miserly, though a spendthrift; and looked black when I delicately hinted the other day that I wanted a friend--_id est_, a loan! money and friendship same thing,--distinction without a difference!" Thus cogitating, Vargrave whiled away the minutes till his carriage stopped at Mr. Merton's door. As he entered the hall he met Caroline, who had just quitted her own room. "How lucky I am that you have on your bonnet! I long for a walk with you round the lawn." "And I, too, am glad to see you, Lord Vargrave," said Caroline, putting her arm in his. "Accept my best congratulations, my own sweet friend," said Vargrave, when they were in the grounds. "You have no idea how happy Doltimore is. He came to Knaresdean yesterday to communicate the news, and his neckcloth was primmer than ever. C'est un bon enfant." "Ah, how can you talk thus? Do you feel no pain at the thought that--that I am another's?" "Your heart will be ever mine,--and that is the true fidelity. What else, too, could be done? As for Lord Doltimore, we will go shares in him. Come, cheer thee, _m'amie_; I rattle on thus to keep up your spirits. Do not fancy I am happy!" Caroline let fall a few tears; but beneath the influence of Vargrave's sophistries and flatteries, she gradually recovered her usual hard and worldly tone of mind. "And where is Evelyn?" asked Vargrave. "Do you know, the little witch seemed to be half mad the night of the ball. Her head was turned; and when she sat next me at supper, she not only answered every question I put to her _a tort et a travers_, but I fancied every moment she was going to burst out crying. Can you tell what was the matter with her?" "She was grieved to hear that I was to be married to the man I do not love. Ah, Vargrave, she has more heart than you have!" "But she never fancies that you love me?" asked Lumley, in alarm. "You women are so confoundedly confidential!" "No, she does not suspect our secret." "Then I scarcely think your approaching marriage was a sufficient cause for so much distraction." "Perhaps she may have overheard some of the impertinent whispers about her mother,--'Who was Lady Vargrave?' and 'What Cameron was Lady Vargrave's first husband?' _I_ overheard a hundred such vulgar questions; and provincial people whisper so loud." "Ah, that is a very probable solution of the mystery; and for my part, I am almost as much puzzled as any one else can be to know who Lady Vargrave was!" "Did not your uncle tell you?" "He told me that she was of no very elevated birth and station,--nothing more; and she herself, with her quiet, say-nothing manner, slips through all my careless questionings like an eel. She is still a beautiful creature, more regularly handsome than even Evelyn; and old Templeton had a very sweet tooth at the back of his head, though he never opened his mouth wide enough to show it." "She must ever at least have been blameless, to judge by an air which, even now, is more like that of a child than a matron." "Yes; she has not much of the widow about her, poor soul! But her education, except in music, has not been very carefully attended to; and she knows about as much of the world as the Bishop of Autun (better known as Prince Talleyrand) knows of the Bible. If she were not so simple, she would be silly; but silliness is never simple,--always cunning; however, there is some cunning in her keeping her past Cameronian Chronicles so close. Perhaps I may know more about her in a short time, for I intend going to C-----, where my uncle once lived, in order to see if I can revive under the rose--since peers are only contraband electioneerers--his old parliamentary influence in that city: and they may tell me more there than I now know." "Did the late lord marry at C-----?" "No; in Devonshire. I do not even know if Mrs. Cameron ever was at C-----." "You must be curious to know who the father of your intended wife was?" "Her father! No; I have no curiosity in that quarter. And, to tell you the truth, I am much too busy about the Present to be raking into that heap of rubbish we call the Past. I fancy that both your good grandmother and that comely old curate of Brook-Green know everything about Lady Vargrave; and, as they esteem her so much, I take it for granted she is _sans tache_." "How could I be so stupid! _A propos_ of the curate, I forgot to tell you that he is here. He arrived about two hours ago, and has been closeted with Evelyn ever since!" "The deuce! What brought the old man hither?" "That I know not. Papa received a letter from him yesterday morning, to say that he would be here to-day. Perhaps Lady Vargrave thinks it time for Evelyn to return home." "What am I to do?" said Vargrave, anxiously. "Dare I yet venture to propose?" "I am sure it will be in vain, Vargrave. You must prepare for disappointment." "And ruin," muttered Vargrave, gloomily. "Hark you, Caroline, she may refuse me if she pleases. But I am not a man to be baffled. Have her I will, by one means or another; revenge urges me to it almost as much as ambition. That girl's thread of life has been the dark line in my woof; she has robbed me of fortune, she now thwarts me in my career, she humbles me in my vanity. But, like a hound that has tasted blood, I will run her down, whatever winding she takes." "Vargrave, you terrify me! Reflect; we do not live in an age when violence--" "Tush!" interrupted Lumley, with one of those dark looks which at times, though very rarely, swept away all its customary character from that smooth, shrewd countenance. "Tush! We live in an age as favourable to intellect and to energy as ever was painted in romance. I have that faith in fortune and myself that I tell you, with a prophet's voice, that Evelyn shall fulfil the wish of my dying uncle. But the bell summons us back." On returning to the house, Lord Vargrave's valet gave him a letter which had arrived that morning. It was from Mr. Gustavus Douce, and ran thus:-- FLEET STREET, ----- 20, 18--. MY LORD,--It is with the greatest regret that I apprise you, for Self & Co., that we shall not be able in the present state of the Money Market