"You need fear no such catastrophe! You are no such marvel among men that a kitchen-wench will break her heart for you. She will be sorry for herself, no doubt; but it will be nothing more than she expected, and will only confirm her opinion of you: she knows well enough the risk she runs!"
While he spoke, Donal, waiting his turn, stood as on hot iron. Such sayings were in his ears the foul talk of hell. The moment the earl ceased, he turned to Forgue, and said:--
"My lord, you have removed my harder thoughts of you! You have indeed broken your word, but in a way infinitely nobler than I believed you capable of!"
Lord Morven stared dumbfounded.
"Your comments are out of place, Mr. Grant!" said Forgue, with something like dignity. "The matter is between my father and myself.
If you wanted to beg my pardon, you should have waited a fitting opportunity!"
Donal held his peace. He had felt bound to show sympathy with his enemy where he was right.
The earl was perplexed: his one poor ally had gone over to the enemy! He took a glass from the table beside him, and drank: then, after a moment's silence, apparently of exhaustion and suffering, said, "Mr. Grant, I desire a word with you.--Leave the room, Forgue."
"My lord," returned Forgue, "you order me from the room to confer with one whose presence with you is an insult to me!"
"He seems to me," answered his father bitterly, "to be after your own mind in the affair!--How indeed should it be otherwise! But so far I have found Mr. Grant a man of honour, and I desire to have some private conversation with him. I therefore request you will leave us alone together."
This was said so politely, yet with such latent command, that the youth dared not refuse compliance.
The moment he closed the door behind him, "I am glad he yielded," said the earl, "for I should have had to ask you to put him out, and I hate rows. Would you have done it?"
"I would have tried."
"Thank you. Yet a moment ago you took his part against me!"
"On the girl's part--and for his honesty too, my lord!"
"Come now, Mr. Grant! I understand your prejudices, I cannot expect you to look on the affair as I do. I am glad to have a man of such sound general principles to form the character of my younger son; but it is plain as a mountain that what would be the duty of a young man in your rank of life toward a young woman in the same rank, would be ****** ruin to one in lord Forgue's position. A capable man like you can make a living a hundred different ways; to one born with the burden of a title, and without the means of supporting it, marriage with such a girl means poverty, gambling, hunger, squabbling, dirt--suicide!"
"My lord," answered Donal, "the moment a man speaks of love to a woman, be she as lowly and ignorant as mother Eve, that moment rank and privilege vanish, and distinction is annihilated."
The earl gave a small sharp smile.
"You would make a good pleader, Mr. Grant! But if you had seen the consequences of such marriage half as often as I, you would modify your ideas. Mark what I say: this marriage shall not take place--by God! What! should I for a moment talk of it with coolness were there the smallest actual danger of its occurrence--did I not know that it never could, never shall take place! The boy is a fool, and he shall know it! I have him in my power--neck and heels in my power! He does not know it, and never could guess how; but it is true: one word from me, and the rascal is paralysed! Oblige me by telling him what I have just said. The absurd marriage shall not take place, I repeat. Invalid as I am, I am not yet reduced to the condition of an obedient father."
He took up a small bottle, poured a little from it, added water, and drank--then resumed.
"Now for the girl: who knows about it?"
"So far as I am aware, no one but her grandfather. He had come to the castle to inquire after her, and was with me when we came upon them in the fruit garden."
"Then let no further notice be taken of it. Tell no one--not even Mrs. Brookes. Let the young fools do as they please."
"I cannot consent to that, my lord."
"Why, what the devil have you to do with it?"
"I am the friend of her people."
"Pooh! pooh! don't talk rubbish. What is it to them! I'll see to them. It will all come right. The affair will settle itself. By Jove, I'm sorry you interfered! The thing would have been much better left alone."
"My lord," said Donal, "I can listen to nothing in this strain."
"All I ask is--promise not to interfere."
"I will not."
"Thank you."
"My lord, you mistake. I will not promise. Nay, I will interfere.
What to do, I do not now know; but I will save the girl if I can."
"And ruin an ancient family! You think nothing of that!"
"Its honour, my lord, will be best preserved in that of the girl."
"Damn you? will you preach to me?"
Notwithstanding his fierce words, Donal could not help seeing or imagining an almost suppliant look in his eye.
"You must do as I tell you in my house," he went on, "or you will soon see the outside of it. Come: marry the girl yourself--she is deuced pretty--and I will give you five hundred pounds for your wedding journey.--Poor Davie!"
"Your lordship insults me."
"Then, damn you! be off to your lessons, and take your insolent face out of my sight."
"If I remain in your house, my lord, it is for Davie's sake."
"Go away," said the earl; and Donal went.
He had hardly closed the door behind him, when he heard a bell ring violently; and ere he reached the bottom of the stair, he met the butler panting up as fast as his short legs and red nose would permit. He would have stopped to question Donal, who hastened past him, and in the refuge of his own room, sat down to think. Had his conventional dignity been with him a matter of importance, he would have left the castle the moment he got his things together; but he thought much more of Davie, and much more of Eppy.
He had hardly seated himself when he jumped up again: he must see Andrew Comin!
