Chapter VIII

Lord Montreville and Sir Richard Crofts, after exhausting every mode of enquiry at the end of their journey, without having discovered any traces of the fugitives, returned to London. The uncertainty of what was become of his son, and concern for the fate of Emmeline, made his Lordship more unhappy than he had yet been: and the reception he met with on his return home did not contribute to relieve him; he found that no intelligence had been received of Delamere; and Lady Montreville beset him with complaints and reproaches. The violence of her passions had, for some months, subjected her to fits; and the evasion of her son, and her total ignorance of what was become of him, had kept her in perpetual agony during Lord Montreville's absence. His return after so successless a journey encreased her sufferings, and she was of a temper not to suffer alone, but to inflict on others some part of the pain she felt herself.

Lord Montreville attempted in vain to appease and console her. Nothing but some satisfactory account of Delamere had the least chance of succeeding; and his Lordship, who now supposed that Delamere and Emmeline were concealed in the neighbourhood of London, determined to persevere in every means of discovering them.

For this purpose he had again recourse to the Crofts'; and Sir Richard and both his sons readily undertook to assist him in his search, and particularly the elder undertook it with the warmest zeal.

This young man inherited all the cunning of his father, together with a coolness of temper which supplied the place of solid understanding and quick parts; since it always gave him time to see where his interest lay, and steadiness to pursue it. By incessant assiduity he had acquired the confidence of Lady Montreville, to whom his attention and attendance were become almost necessary.

Her Ladyship never dreamed that a man of his rank could lift his eyes to either of her daughters, and therefore encouraged his constant attendance on them both; while Crofts was too sensible of the value of such an alliance not to take advantage of the opportunities that were incessantly afforded him.

Lady Montreville had repeatedly declared, that if Delamere married Emmeline all that part of the fortune which she had a right to give away should be the property of her eldest daughter. This was upwards of six thousand pounds a year; and whether this ever happened or not, Crofts knew that what was settled on younger children, which must at all events be divided between the two young ladies, would make either of them a fortune worth all attempts, independent of the connection he would form by it with Lord Montreville, who now began to make a very considerable figure in the political world.

With these views, Crofts had for near two years incessantly applied himself to conciliate the good opinion of the whole family, with so much art that nobody suspected his designs. The slight and contemptuous treatment he had always received from Delamere, he had affected to pass by with the calm magnanimity of a veteran statesman; and emulating the decided conduct and steady indifference of age, rather than yielding to the warmth of temper natural to five and twenty, he was considered as a very rising and promising young man by the grave politicians with whom he associated, and by those of his own age a supercilious and solemn coxcomb.

He had studied the characters of the two Miss Delameres, and found that of the eldest the fittest for his purpose; tho' the person of the youngest, and the pride which encased the heart of the other, would have made a less able politician decide for Augusta. But he saw that the very pride which seemed an impediment to his hopes, might, under proper management, contribute to their success. He saw that she really loved nobody but herself; that her personal vanity was greater than the pride of her rank; and that her heart was certainly on that side assailable. He therefore, by distant hints and sighs, affected concealment; and artful speeches gave her to understand that all his prudence had not been able to defend him from the indiscretion of a hopeless passion.

While he was contented to call it hopeless, Miss Delamere, tho' long partial to Fitz-Edward, could not refuse herself the indulgence of hearing it; and at length grew so accustomed to allow him to talk to her of his unbounded and despairing love, that she found it very disagreeable to be without him.

He saw, that unless a title and great estate crossed his path, his success, tho' it might be slow, was almost certain. But he was obliged to proceed with caution; notwithstanding he would have been very glad to have secured his prize before the return of Delamere to his family threw an obstacle in his way which was the most formidable he had to contend with.

He affected, however, the utmost anxiety to discover him; and recited to Lord Montreville an exhortation he intended to pronounce to him, if he should be fortunate enough to do so.

Nothing could be a greater proof of his Lordship's opinion of Crofts than his entrusting him with a commission, which, if successful, could hardly fail of irritating the fiery and ungovernable temper of Delamere, and driving him into excesses which it would require all the philosophic steadiness of Crofts to support without resentment.

While Sir Richard and his two sons therefore set about the difficult task of finding Delamere, Lord Montreville went himself to Fitz-Edward; but heard that for many days he had not been at his apartments, that he had taken no servants with him, and that they knew not whither he was gone, or when he would return.

Lord Montreville, who had depended more on the information of Fitz-Edward than any other he hoped to obtain, left a note at his lodgings desiring to see him as soon as he came to town, and went back in encreased uneasiness to his own house. But among the numberless letters which lay on his library table, the directions of which he hastily read in a faint hope of news of Delamere, he saw one directed by the hand of Emmeline. He tore it eagerly open--it contained an account of all that had happened, written with such clearness and simplicity as immediately impressed it's truth; and it is difficult to say whether Lord Montreville's pleasure at finding his son still unmarried, or his admiration at the greatness of his niece's mind, were the predominant emotion.

When the former sentiment a little subsided, and he had time to reflect on all the heroism of her conduct, he was almost ashamed of the long opposition he had given to his son's passion; and would, if he had not known his wife's prejudices invincible, have acknowledged, that neither the possession of birth or fortune could make any amends to him, who saw and knew how to value the beauty of such a mind as that of Emmeline. The inveterate aversion and insurmountable pride of Lady Montreville, he had no hope of conquering; and she had too much in her power, to suffer his Lordship to think of Delamere's losing such a large portion of his inheritance by disobeying her. For these reasons he checked the inclination he felt rising in his own heart to reward and receive his niece, and thought only of taking advantage of her integrity to separate his son from her for ever.

He went with the letter in his hand to Lady Montreville's apartment, where he found Mr. Crofts and the two young ladies.

He read it to them; and when he had finished it, expressed in the warmest terms his approbation of Miss Mowbray's conduct. Lady Montreville testified nothing but satisfaction at what she called 'the foolish boy's escape from ruin,' without having the generosity to applaud _her_, whose integrity was so much the object of admiration.

Possessing neither candour nor generosity herself, she was incapable of loving those qualities in another; and in answer to Lord Montreville's praises of Emmeline, which she heard with reluctance, she was not ashamed to say, that perhaps were the whole truth known, his Lordship would find but little reason to set up his relation's character higher than that of his own children--to which her eldest daughter added--'Why, to be sure, Madam, there is, as my father says, something very extraordinary in Miss Mowbray's refusing _such a match_--that is, _if_ she has no other attachment.'

Augusta Delamere heard all that her father said in commendation of her beloved Emmeline, with eyes suffused with tears, which drew on her the anger of her mother and the malignant sneers of her sister.

The two young ladies however were sent away, while a council was held between Lord and Lady Montreville and Crofts, on what steps it was immediately necessary to take.

Several ideas were started, but none which his Lordship approved. He determined therefore to write to his son; with whose residence at Tylehurst, the house of Sir Philip Carnaby, Emmeline's letter acquainted him; and wait his answer before he proceeded farther.

With this resolution, Lady Montreville was extremely discontented; and proposed, as the only plan on which they could depend, that his Lordship, under pretence of placing her properly, should send Emmeline to France, and there confine her till Delamere, hopeless of regaining her, should consent to marry Miss Otley.

Her Ladyship urged--'That it could not possibly do the girl any harm; and that very worthy people had not scrupled to commit much more violent actions where their motive was right, tho' less strong, than that which would in this case actuate Lord Montreville, which was,' she said, 'to save the sole remaining heir of a noble house from a degrading and beggarly alliance.'

'Hold! Madam,' cried Lord Montreville, who was extremely displeased at the proposal, and with the speech with which it closed--'Remember, I beg of you, that when you speak of the Mowbray family, you speak of one very little if at all inferior to your own; nor should you, Lady Montreville, forget, in the heat of your resentment, that you are a woman--a woman too, whose birth should at least give you a liberal mind, and put you above thinking of an action as unfeminine as inhuman. Surely, as a mother who have daughters of your own, you should have some feeling for this young woman; not at all their inferior, but in being born under circumstances for which she is not to blame, and which mark with sufficient unhappiness a life that might otherwise have done as much honour to my family as I hope your daughters will do to your's.'

The slightest contradiction was what Lady Montreville had never been accustomed to bear patiently. The asperity therefore of this speech, and the total rejection of her project, threw her into an agony of passion which ended in an hysteric fit.

Lord Montreville, less moved than usual, committed her to the care of her daughters and women, and continued to talk coolly to Crofts on the subject they were before discussing.

After considering it in every point of view, he determined to leave Delamere at present to his own reflections; only writing to him a calm and expostulatory letter; such as, together with Emmeline's steadiness, on which he now relied with the utmost confidence, might, he thought, effect more than violent measures. His Lordship wrote also to Emmeline, strongly expressing his admiration and regard, and his confidence and esteem encreased her desire to deserve them.

Mrs. Stafford was now nearly recovered; and Delamere settled at his new house, where he always returned at night, tho' he passed almost every day at Woodfield.

His mornings were often occupied in those amusements of which he had been so fond before his passion for Emmeline became the only business of his life; and secure of seeing her continually, and of telling how he loved her, he became more reasonable than he had hitherto been.

The letters, however, which now arrived from Lord Montreville, a little disturbed his felicity. They gave Emmeline an opportunity to exhort him to return to London--to make his peace with his father, and quiet the uneasiness of Lady Montreville, which his Lordship represented as excessive, and as fatal to _her_ health as to the peace of the whole family.

Emmeline urged him by every tie of duty and affection to relieve the anxiety of his family, and particularly to attend to the effect his absence and disobedience had on the constitution of his mother, which had long been extremely shaken. But to all her remonstrances, he answered--'That he would not return, till Lady Montreville would promise never to renew those reflections and reproaches which had driven him from Audley-Hall; and to which he apprehended he should now be more than ever exposed.'

As Emmeline could not pretend to procure such an engagement from her Ladyship, all she could do was to inform Lord Montreville of his objection, and to leave it to him to make terms between Delamere and his mother.

Near a month had now elapsed since Emmeline's arrival at Woodfield; and the returning serenity of her mind had restored to her countenance all it's bloom and brilliancy. She had indeed no other uneasiness than what arose from her anxiety to procure quiet to her Uncle's family, and from her observations on the encreasing melancholy of Mrs. Stafford, for which she knew too well how to account.

Even this, however, often appeared alleviated by her presence, and forgotten in her conversation; and she rejoiced in the power of affording a temporary relief to the sorrows of one whom she so truly loved.

This calm was interrupted by Elkerton, by whom the affront he had received at Staines, from Delamere, had not been forgotten, tho' he by no means relished the thoughts of resenting it in the way his friend Jackman, and all who heard of it, proposed.

To risk his life and all his finery, seemed a most cruel condition; but Jackman protested there was no other by which he could retrieve his honour. And his friend at whose house he was, on the borders of Hampshire, who had been an officer in the military service of the East India Company, and had acquired a princely fortune, felt himself inspired with all the punctilios of a soldier, and declared to Elkerton that if he put up with this affront no man of honour could hereafter speak to him.

Poor Elkerton, who in the article of fighting, as well as many others, extremely resembled '_le Bourgeois Gentilhomme_,' made all the evasions in his power; while his _soi disant_ friends, who enjoyed his distress, persisted in pushing him on to demand satisfaction of Delamere; but after long debates, he determined first to ask him for an apology. There was, he thought, some hope of obtaining it; if not, he could only in the last extremity have recourse to the desperate expedient of a challenge. He wrote therefore a letter to Delamere, requesting, in the civilest and mildest terms, an apology for his behaviour at Staines; and sent it by a servant; as it was not more than twenty miles from the house where he was, to that Mr. Delamere had taken.

Delamere returned a contemptuous refusal; but neither mentioned the letter to Emmeline, nor thought again about it's writer.

The unfortunate Elkerton, who reproached incessantly his evil stars for having thrown this hot-headed boy in his way, could not conceal from his friends the unaccommodating answer he had received to his pacific overture; and it was agreed that Elkerton must either determine to fight him, or be excluded from good company for ever. The challenge, therefore, penned by the Asiatic hero, was copied with a trembling hand by Elkerton; and Jackman, who had offered to be his second, set out with him for the town near Tylehurst.

On their arrival, Jackman took a post-chaise to carry the billet to Delamere, leaving the terrified Elkerton to settle all his affairs, both temporal and spiritual, against the next morning, when Delamere was appointed to meet him on a heath near the town, at seven o'clock.

Jackman found Delamere with Fitz-Edward, who had arrived there that day. He delivered his letter, and Delamere immediately answered it by saying he would not fail to attend the appointment, with his friend Colonel Fitz-Edward.

During Jackman's absence, Elkerton tried to argue himself into a state of mind fit for the undertaking of the next day. But he found no arguments gave him any sort of satisfaction, save two; one was, that as most disputes ended with firing a brace of pistols in the air, the probability was, that he should be as fortunate as others--the second, that if the worst should happen, he should at least make a paragraph worth some hazard: and that whether he killed Delamere, or fell himself, an affair of honour with a young man of his rank would extremely contribute to his fame.

Neither of these reflections however had force enough to prevent his heartily wishing there was no necessity to employ them; and he contrived to make such a bustle with his servant about his pistols, and sent forth so many enquiries for an able surgeon, that it was known immediately at the inn where he was, that the gentleman was come to fight young Squire Delamere.

In a country town, such intelligence soon gained ground; and before Jackman's return, every shop in it had settled the place and manner of the combat.

One of Mr. Stafford's servants was at the inn, which was also the post house; where the landlady failed not to tell him what a bloody-minded man was in the next room. The servant, who like all people of his station delighted in the wonderful and the terrible, collected all the particulars; which he retailed on his arrival at home, with every exaggeration his invention would lend him.