Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
apart, disclosed thy teeth white
as the orient pearl; - thy young bosom heaved beneath the gauze which veiled it
- purity sat upon thy lofty brow, like a diadem which innocence confers upon
its elect! Very beautiful wait thou, Isabella - charming exotic flower from the
sweet Italian clime!
"Yes, my beloved wife - my darling daughter," said
the Count; "we are ruined by my mad confidence in that villain Greenwood.
You know that there is one means by which I could obtain wealth and release us
from this cruel embarrassment. But never would either of you wish to see ins sell
my claims and resign my patriotism for gold! No - dearest partakers of my sad
destinies, that may not be! I shall ever reject the offers of my persecutors
with scorn; and until fortune may choose to smile upon us, we must learn to
support her frowns with resignation."
"That same Almighty power which afflict, and chastises,
can also restore gladness, and multiply blessings," said Isabella.
solemnly.
A servant now entered the room to announce that dinner was
served in another apartment.
Assuming a cheerful air, the count led his wife and daughter
to the dining-room, and partook of the repast with a forced appetite, in order
to avoid giving pain to those who watched all his movements and hung upon all
his words with such tender solicitude.
After dinner, the count, still pondering upon the scene in
which a tender wife and affectionate daughter had administered to him such
sweet consolation, and experiencing a delicious balm in the domestic felicity
which he enjoyed, said to Isabella, "Read me from your Album, my dear
girl, those lines which a poet is supposed to address to his wife, and which,
always possess new charms for me."
Isabella hastened to obey her father's wishes, and read, in
a soft and silver tone, the following stanzas:-
THE POET TO HIS WIFE.
WHEN far away, my memory keeps in view,
Unweariedly, the image of my wife;
This tribute of my gratitude is due
To her who seems the angel of my life-
The guiding star that lead, me safely through
The eddies of this world's unceasing strife;-
Hope's beacon, cheering ever from afar,
How beautiful art thou, my guiding star!
Our children have thy countenance, that beams
With love for him who tells thy virtues now;-
Their eyes have caught the heavenly ray which gleams
From thine athwart the clouds that shade my brow,
Like sunshine on a night of hideous dreams!-
The first to wean me from despair art thou;
For all the endearing sentiments of life
Are summed up in the words
Children
and
Wife
The mind, when in a desert stale, renews
Its strength, if by Hope's purest manna fed; -
As drooping flowers revive beneath the dews
Which April mornings bountifully shed.
Mohammed taught (let none the faith abuse)
That echoes were the voices of the dead
Repeating, in a far-off realm of bliss.
The words of those they loved and left in this.
My well beloved, should'st thou pass hence away,
Into another and a happier sphere,
Ere death has also closed my little day,
And morn may wake no more on my career,-
"I love thee," are the words that I shall say
From hour to hour, during my sojourn here,
That thou in other realms may'st still be found
Prepared to echo back the welcome sound.
Scarcely had Isabella finished these lines,
when a servant entered the room, and announced a Mr. Johnson, " who had
some pressing business to communicate, and who was very sure that he shouldn't
be considered an intruder."
Mr. Johnson - a queer-looking, shabby-genteel, off-hand kind
of man - made his appearance close behind the servant, over whose shoulder he
leered ominously.
"I b'lieve You're Count Alteroni, air you?" was
Mr. Johnson's first question.
"I am. What is your business with me?"
"I'm come from Rolfe, the attorney, in Clement's
Inn," was the reply : "he —"
"Oh! I suppose he has sent you to say that he will
accord me the delay I require?" interrupted the count.
"Not quite that there neither," said the man;
then, sinking his voice to a mysterious whisper, and glancing towards the
ladies with an air of embarrassment, he added, "The fact is, I've got a
execution agin your person - a
ca-sa
, you know, for eighteen hundred
and costs."
"A writ - a warrant!" ejaculated the count aloud.
"You do not mean to say that you are come to take me to prison?"
"Not exactly that either," replied Mr. Johnson.
"You needn't go to quod, you know. You can come to our lock-up in the
New-cut, Lambeth, where you'll be as snug as if you was in your own house,
barring liberty."
"I understand you," said the Count ; then, turning
to his wife and daughter, he added, "My dears, the evil moment is arrived.
This person is a bailiff come to arrest me; and I must go with him. I implore
you not to take this misfortune to heart:- it was sure to happen; and it might
just as well occur to-day as a week or a month hence."
"And whither will they take you?" asked the
countess, bursting into tears. "Cannot we be allowed to accompany
you?"
"You can come, ma'am, and see his lordship
to-morrow," said the bailiff; "and you can stay with him from ten in
the morning till nine in the evening - or may-be till half-arter ten as a wery
partick'lar faviour - for which you'll only have to pay half a sufferin extray.
But there's my man."
A sneaking kind of knock - something more than a single one,
not so much as a double one, and by no means as bold as a postman's - had been
heard the moment before the bailiff uttered these last words ; and while he
went in person to inform his acolyte that the caption was made, and that he
might wait in the hall, the count endeavoured to soothe and console the two
afflicted ladies, who now clung to him in the most impassioned and distracted
manner.
"To-morrow, my dear father-to-morrow, the moment the
clock strikes ten, we will be with you," said Isabella. "Oh! how
miserably will pass the hours until that period!"
"Will you not
now
permit me, my dearest husband, to
see the Envoy of Castelcicala, and —"
"No," answered the Count firmly. "Did we not
agree ere now to support with resignation all that fortune might have in store
for us"
"Ah! pardon me - I forgot," said the countess,
"I am overwhelmed with grief. Oh! what a blow - and for
you!
"
"Show yourselves worthy of your high rank and proud
name," cried the nobleman; "and all will yet be well."
At this moment the bailiff returned to the room.
"I am now ready to accompany you," said the count.
"So much the better," cried Mr. Johnson. "Me
and my man Tim Bunkins come down in a omnibus; I don't know which way you'd
like to go,
but I've heerd say you keeps a wery tidy cabrioily."
"It would be a monstrous mockery for any one to proceed
to a prison in his own luxurious vehicle," said the count sternly.
"As you came, so may you return, I will accompany you in an omnibus."
The count embraced his wife and daughter tenderly and with
much difficulty tore himself away, in order to leave a comfortable home for a
miserable sponging-house.
A FRIEND IN NEED
TEN days after the arrest of Count Alteroni, a young lady was
proceeding, at about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, down the Blackfriars Road.
She was dressed plainly, but with that exquisite taste which
denotes a polished mind, and is in itself an aristocracy of sentiment. She
looked neither to the right nor to the left: her pace was somewhat rapid, as if
she were anxious to arrive at her destination:-and though there was something
timid in her manner as she threaded her way along the crowded thoroughfare, few
who passed her could help turning round to obtain another glimpse of the
sylph-like form of that unassuming girl.
From the opposite direction advanced a young man of tall and
handsome appearance, neatly dressed, and with a shade of melancholy upon his
countenance.
In a few moments he met the young lady, and was about to
pass her, when his eyes happened to catch a glimpse of her lovely features.
He started with surprise, exclaiming, " Signora! is it
possible? Do we indeed meet again? Ah! it seems to me that it is an age since I
saw you, dearest Isabella!"
"And since we last met, Richard, many unfortunate
events have happened. My poor father —"
"Your father! what can have happened to him?"
cried Markham, struck by the mournful tone of the beauteous Italian.
"He is in the Queen's Bench Prison," replied Isabella,
her eyes filling with tears.
"In the Queen's Bench! And you are going to him now?
Oh! Isabella, you must tell me how all this happened: I will escort you a
little way;" - and with these words, Richard offered his arm to the
signora, who accepted it with a ready confidence in him whom she loved, and
whose presence was by no means displeasing to her at that moment when she stood
so much in need of consolation.
"You are aware," resumed Isabella, "that my
father entrusted a considerable sum of money to Mr. Greenwood."
"The villain!" ejaculated Markham warmly.
"I cannot explain to you exactly how it was that my
father accepted the security of Mr. Tomlinson, the banker, for that amount, as
I am not acquainted with matters of business ;- but he did so, and released Mr.
Greenwood."
"And Tomlinson failed - and your father lost all!"
"Alas! he did ;- and he is now imprisoned for a sum for
which he had become answerable to serve a friend,'' said Isabella.
"How long has the count been in - in —"
"In prison," added the signora mournfully.
"He was arrested ten days ago; and, by the advice of a solicitor, he
removed on the following day from the bailiff's private house to the
Bench."
"And the countess?"
"My mother is very unwell to-day, and could not leave
her room; and I am now on my way to visit my poor father. We have left Richmond
altogether; and my mother and myself occupy lodgings in the Blackfriars Road,
near the bridge."
"Ten days ago this happened, Isabella," said
Richard reproachfully; "and you did not acquaint me with what had occurred
?"
"Ah! Richard - you know well that circumstances forbade
me;-or else —"
"Or else? Speak-dearest Isabella."
"Or else I believe you would have given my father the
best advice how to proceed. He is too proud to apply to his friends; and he
cannot - he must not remain in prison. His health would sink under the idea of
degradation that has taken possession of him."
"That villain Greenwood!" said Markham, musing.
"When will the day of retribution arrive for him?"
"We must now part, Richard," observed Isabella, as
they came in view of the dingy wall of the Queen's Bench Prison, crowned by
chevaux-de-frise.
"Yes - we must part
again," said Markham mournfully. "But how happy should I have been
had we met this morning under other circumstances! How I should have blessed
the accident that brought me thus early this morning on some business of my
own, to this neighbourhood! Oh! Isabella, you know not how constantly I think
of you - how unceasingly I dwell upon your dear image!"
"And can you suppose, Richard, that I never devote a
thought to you?" said Isabella, in a low and plaintive tone. "But we
must not talk upon such a subject at present. Let us hope for happier times."
With these words the young lady returned the pressure of her
lover's hand, and hurried towards the Queen's Bench.
Markham loitered about the spot for five minutes, and then
proceeded to the lobby of the prison. There he inquired into the particulars of
Count Alteroni's detention ; and ascertained that he had been arrested for
eighteen hundred pounds, with costs.
He then left the gloomy precincts of the debtors' gaol, and
retraced his steps towards the City.
"Eighteen hundred pounds would procure the count's
liberation," he said to himself: "eighteen hundred pounds, which he
does not possess, and which he is too proud to borrow, - eighteen hundred
pounds, which would restore him to his family, and make Isabella happy! My property
is worth four thousand pounds :- if I raise two thousand pound, upon it, I
shall curtail my income by exactly one half. I shall have one hundred pounds
a-year remaining. But my education was good - my acquirements are not
contemptible: surely I can turn them to some account ?"
Then it suddenly struck him that he had already raised five
hundred pounds upon his estate at the period when the Resurrection Man
endeavoured to extort that sum from him; and half of this sum had already
disappeared in consequence of the amount given to Talbot (
alias
Pocock) in the
Dark-House -
the assistance rendered to Monroe and Ellen - his journey to
Boulogne - and other claims. Then there would be the expenses of deeds to
reckon. If he raised two thousand pounds more, his property would only remain
worth to him about fifteen hundred pounds. His income would therefore be
reduced to seventy-five pounds
per annum
.
But not for one moment did this
noble-hearted young man hesitate relative to the course he should pursue; and
without delay he proceeded to the office of Mr. Dyson, his solicitor, in the
City.
There the business was speedily explained and put in train.
It would, however, require, said the solicitor, four days to terminate the
affair; but Markham did not leave him until he had fixed the precise moment
when the deeds were to be signed and the money paid over.
Richard returned home in a state of mind more truly happy
than he had known for some time past. He had resolved upon an immense
sacrifice, to benefit those whom he esteemed or loved; and he was prepared to
meet any consequences which it might produce. This is human nature. We may
inure ourselves to the contemplation of any idea, however appalling or alarming
it may appear at first sight, without a shudder and almost without a regret.
The convict, under sentence of death in the condemned cell, and his ears
ringing with the din of the hammers erecting the scaffold, does not experience
such acute mental agony as the world are apt to suppose. We all have the
certainty of death, at some date more or less near, before our eyes; and yet
this conviction does not trouble our mental equanimity. The convict who is
doomed to die, is only worse off than ourselves inasmuch as the precise day,
hour, and moment of his fate are revealed to him; but his death, which is to be
sudden and only of a moment's pain, must be a thousand times preferable to the
long, lingering, agonising throes of sickness which many of those who pity him
are eventually doomed to endure before their thread of existence shall be
severed for ever!
Yes - we can bring our minds to meet every species of mortal
affliction with resignation, and even with cheerfulness ;- and there is no
sorrow, no malady, no pang, which issued from Pandora's box that did not bear the
imprint of hope along with it!
True to the appointed time, Richard proceeded to the office
of Mr. Dyson, on the fourth day from the commencement of the business.
He signed the papers and received two thousand pounds.
The lawyer shook his head, implying his fears that his
client was improvident and wasteful.
He was, however, speedily undeceived.
"Will you have the kindness to accompany me in a
cab?" said Markham. "You can render me s service in the way in which
I am about to dispose of this money."
"Certainly," returned Mr. Dyson. "Are you
going far?"
"Not very," answered Richard; and when they were
both seated in the vehicle, he told the driver to proceed towards the Queen's
Bench Prison, but to stop at some distance from the gates.
These directions were obeyed.
"Now, Mr. Dyson," said Richard, "will you
have the kindness to repair to the office of the prison, and inquire the amount
of debts for which a certain Count Alteroni is detained in custody?"
Mr. Dyson obeyed the instructions thus given to him,
and in ten minutes returned from the prison with a
copy of courses
in his hand.
"Count Alteroni is a prisoner for eighteen hundred and
twenty-one pounds," said the lawyer.
"Are there any fees or extra expenses beyond the sum
specified in that paper ?" asked Richard.
"Yes - merely a few shillings," replied the
solicitor.
"I wish, then, that every liability of Count Alteroni
be settled in such a way that he may quit the prison without being asked for a
single shilling. Here is the necessary amount: pay all that is due - and pay
liberally."
"My dear sir," said the lawyer, hesitating,
"I hope you have well reflected upon what you are about to do."
"Yes - yes," answered Richard impatiently: "
I have well reflected, I can assure you."
"Two thousand pounds - or nearly so - is a large sum,
Mr. Markham."
"I have weighed all the consequences."
"At least, then, you have received ample security
—"
"Not a scrap of paper."
"Had I not better call and see this nobleman, and
obtain from him a warrant of attorney or cognovit —"
"So far from doing any such thing," interrupted
Markham, "you must take especial care not to mention to a soul the name of
the person who has employed you to effect the count's release - not a syllable
must escape your lips on this head; nor need you acquaint the clerks whom you
may see, with your own name. In a word, the affair must be buried in profound
mystery."
Since you are determined," said Mr. Dyson, "I will
obey your instructions to the very letter. But, once again, excuse me if I
request you to reflect whether —"
"My dear sir, I have nothing more to reflect upon; and
you will oblige me by terminating this business as speedily as possible."
The solicitor returned to the prison; and Markham, whom he
now considered to be foolish or mad, instead of improvident and extravagant,
threw himself back in the vehicle, and gave way to his reflections. His eyes
were, however, turned towards the road leading to the Bench; for he was anxious
to watch for the re-appearance of his agent.
Ten minutes had elapsed, when his attention was directed to
two ladies who passed by the cab, and advanced towards the prison-gate.
He leant forward - he could not be mistaken:- no - it was
indeed she - the idol of his adoration - the being whom he loved with a species
of worship! She was walking with the countess. They were on their way to visit
the count in his confinement; but Richard could not catch a glimpse of their
countenances - though he divined full well that they wore not an expression of
joy. It was not, however, necessary for him to behold Isabella's face, in order
to recognise her - he knew her by her symmetrical form, the elegant contours of
which even the ample shawl she wore could not hide: he knew her by her step -
by her graceful and dignified gesture - by her lady-like and yet unassuming
gait.
Oh! how speedily, thought he within himself, were she and
her parents to be restored to happiness again!
In about a quarter of an hour after the ladies had entered
the prison, Dyson returned to his client.
"Is it all settled?" demanded Markham.
"Every thing," answered the lawyer.
"And when can the count leave the prison?"
"Almost immediately," replied Dyson, as he entered
the vehicle once more.
Markham then ordered the driver to return to the City.
In the mean time the countess and Isabella repaired to the
room which the noble exile occupied in the prison. As they ascended the steep
stone stab- case which led to it, they wondered within themselves when he whom
they loved so tenderly would be restored in freedom to them.
The count was seated at a table covered with books and
papers, and was busily occupied in arranging the latter when the countess and
signora entered the room. They were instantly welcomed with the most
affectionate warmth by the noble prisoner; and he endeavoured to assume a
cheerful air in their presence.
"Any letters?" said the count, after the usual
inquiries concerning health and comfort.
"None this morning," answered the countess,
"And now, my dear husband, tell me - have you settled any plan to effect
your release?"
"No," said the count. "I must trust to
events. Were Armstrong alive, I should not hesitate to accept a loan from him
;- but to none other would I apply."
At this moment a knock at the door of the prison chamber was
heard; and the two inseparables, Captain Smilax Dapper and Sir Cherry Bounce,
made their appearance.
"My dear count, you don't mean to say that it is really
true, and that you are here on your own account - strike me!" ejaculated
the gallant hussar.
"The newth wath twue - too twue, you thee,
Thmilackth," said Sir Cherry, shuddering visibly, and without any
affectation too as he glanced around him.
"True indeed!" cried the count bitterly.
"I wonder whether they will let uth out again?"
said Sir Cherry, gazing from the window. "But, I declare, they have got
wacket-gwoundth here, and no leth than thwee pumpth. What can the pwithonerth
want with tho muth water?"
"What, indeed - confound me!" exclaimed the
captain. "For my part, I always heard that they lived upon beer. But tell
me - how much is there against you?"
"Yeth - how muth"' echoed Sir Cherry Bounce.
"A mere trifle," answered the count evasively.
"I have been cruelly robbed, and my present position is this result."
"Well," continued the captain, with remarkable
embarrassment of manner, "we are all here together - and so there is no
harm in speaking openly, you know - and Cherry isn't anybody, strike him! - I
was thinking that a very satisfactory arrangement might be made. Always strike
when the iron's hot! I have long entertained a high respect for your family,
count: my late uncle the general, who introduced me and Cherry to you, always
spoke in the best possible terms of you, although he never said much about your
past life, and even hinted that there was some mystery —"
"To what is all this to lead, Captain Dapper?"
exclaimed the count, somewhat impatiently.
"Simply that - why do you stand there, laughing like a
fool, Cherry?"
"Me, Thmilackth?"
"Yes- you. Well, as I was saying when Cherry
interrupted me- I have always entertained the highest possible opinion of
your family, count, and especially of the signora; and if she would accept my
hand and heart - why, strike me! an arrangement could be made in
four-and-twenty hours —"
"Captain Dapper," interrupted the count, "no
more of this. I believe that you would not wantonly insult either my daughter
or myself; but I cannot listen to the terms to which you allude."
"My dear count —"
"Silence, sir! No more of this!" exclaimed the
noble Italian.
There was a pause, which was broken by the entrance of one
of the turnkeys.
"Sir, I have the pleasure to inform you that you are
discharged," said that functionary.
"Discharged!" ejaculated the count:
"impossible! How could I be discharged?"
The countess and Isabella surveyed the turnkey with looks of
the most intense and painful anxiety.
"A stranger has sent his solicitor to pay every thing
against you at the gate; and all the fees and the little donations to us and
the criers are paid also."
"You are bantering me, sirrah!" cried the count.
"You are mistaken. The Envoy from my native land, who alone of all my
acquaintances is capable of doing an action of this generous nature, and in so
delicate a manner, has been absent from London for the last ten days, and is
even unaware of my situation. Who then could have paid my debts ?"
A name trembled upon Isabella's tongue; but the word died
upon her lips. She dared not pronounce that name - although her heart told her
that her surmise was correct, and that Richard Markham was the secret friend to
whom her father was indebted for his liberty. Richard! the reward of thy good
deed had already commenced by the feelings which now changed the love that the
beauteous girl had hitherto experienced for thee, into an adoration and a
worship!
"Well, sir," said the turnkey, "we don't know
who has done this, and it wasn't our business to inquire. All I can say is,
that the debt is paid, the fees settled, and you may leave the place as soon so
you like."
"Dapper, this is your doing," cried the count,
after a moment's pause. "And yet —"
"No - strike me! - I had nothing to do with it - I wish
I had now."
We shall not attempt to describe the delight of the Italian
family, when they found that the joyful tidings were indeed true ; but all the
count's conjectures, to fix this generous and noble deed upon any particular
member of his acquaintance, were alike unsatisfactory and unavailing :-
Isabella alone divined the truth.