Ten Thousand a-Year Volume I Part 42

The reader has had, already, pretty distinct indications of the manner in which t.i.tmouse and Snap conducted themselves during their stay in Yorks.h.i.+re; and which, I fear, have not tended to raise either of these gentlemen in the reader's estimation. t.i.tmouse manifested a very natural anxiety to see the present occupants of Yatton; and it was with infinite difficulty that Snap could prevent him from sneaking about in the immediate neighborhood of the Hall, with the hope of seeing them. His first encounter with Mr. and Miss Aubrey was entirely accidental, as the reader may remember; and when he found that the lady on horseback near Yatton, and the lady whom he had striven to attract the notice of in Hyde Park, were one and the same beautiful woman, and that that beautiful woman was neither more nor less than the sister of the present owner of Yatton--the marvellous discovery created a mighty pother in his little feelings. The blaze of Kate Aubrey's beauty in an instant consumed the images both of Tabitha Tag-rag and Dora Quirk. It even for a while outshone the splendors of ten thousand a-year: such is the inexpressible and incalculable power of woman's beauty over everything in the shape of man--over even so despicable a sample of him, as t.i.ttlebat t.i.tmouse.

While putting in practice some of those abominable tricks to which, under Snap's tutelage, t.i.tmouse had become accustomed in walking the streets of London, and from which even the rough handling they had got from farmer Hazel could not turn him, t.i.tmouse at length, as has been seen, most unwittingly fell foul of that fair creature, Catherine Aubrey herself; who seemed truly like an angelic messenger, returning from her errand of sympathy and mercy, and suddenly beset by a little imp of darkness. When t.i.tmouse discovered who was the object of his audacious and revolting advances, his soul (such as it was) seemed petrified within him; and it was fortunate that the shriek of Miss Aubrey's attendant at length startled him into a recollection of a pair of heels, to which he was that evening indebted for an escape from a most murderous cudgelling, which might have been attended with one effect not contemplated by him who inflicted it, (so profoundly in the dark are we as to the causes and consequences of human actions;) viz. the retention of the Aubreys in the possession of Yatton! t.i.tmouse ran for nearly half a mile on the high-road towards Grilston, without stopping. He dared not venture to return to Yatton, with the sound of the l.u.s.ty farmer's voice in his ears, to get back from the Aubrey Arms the horse which had brought him that afternoon from Grilston, to which place, therefore, he walked on, through the snow and darkness; reaching his inn in a perfect panic, from which, at length, a tumbler of stiff brandy and water, with two or three cigars, somewhat relieved him. Forgetful of the solemn pledge which he had given to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, not to disclose his name or errand, and it never once occurring to him that if he would but keep his own counsel, Miss Aubrey could never identify _him_ with the ruffian who had a.s.sailed her; t.i.tmouse spent the interval between eight and twelve o'clock, at which latter hour the coach by which he had resolved to return to London would pa.s.s through Grilston, in inditing the following letter to Miss Aubrey:--

"_Grilston, January 6th, 18--._ "HONORED MISS,

"Hoping No Offence Will Be Taken where None is meant, (_which am Sure of_,) This I send To say Who I Am which, Is the Right And True Owner of Yatton which You Enjoy Amongst You All At This present (Till The Law Give it to _Me_) Which It quickly Will, and No Mistake, And which It Ought to Have done When I were First born And Before Y^r Respect^e. Family ever Came into it, And All which Y^r hon^d. Brother Have so unlawfully Got Possession Of must Come Back to Them Whose Due It is w^h Is myself as will be Soon prov^d. And w^h am most truely Sorry Of _on your own Acc^t_. (Meaning (hon^d.

Miss) you Alone) as Sure As Yatton is Intirely Mine So My Heart Is _yours_ and No Longer my Own Ever since I Saw You first as Can Easily prove but w^h doubtless You Have forgot Seeing You Never New, because (as Mr. Gammon, My Solliciter And a Very Great Lawyer, says) _Cases Alter Circ.u.mstances_, what Can I say More Than that I Love you _Most Amazing_ Such As Never Thought Myself Capable of Doing Before and w^h cannot help Ever Since I First saw your most _Lovely_ and _Divine_ and _striking_ Face w^h have Stuck In my Mind Ever Since Day and Night Sleeping and Waking I will Take my Oath Never Of Having Lov'd Any one Else, Though (must Say) have Had a Wonderful Many _Offers_ From Females of _The Highest Rank_ Since my Truely Wonderful Good fortune got Talked About every Where but have _Refused Them All_ for _y^r sake_, And Would All the World But you.

When I Saw You on Horseback It was All my Sudden confusion In Seeing you (the Other Gent. was One of my Resp^e Solicitors) w^h Threw Me off in that Ridiculous Way w^h was a Great Mortification And made My brute Of A horse _go on so_, For I Remembered You and was Wonderful struck _with Your Improv'd Appearance_ (As that Same Gent. can Testify) And you was (Hon^d. Miss) Quite Wrong _To Night_ when You Spoke so Uncommon Angry To Me, seeing If I Had Only Known What Female It Was (meaning _yourself which I respect So_) out so Late Alone I should Have spoke quite Different So hope You Will think Nothing More Of that Truely _Unpleasant Event_ Now (Hon^d. Madam) What I have to say Is if You will Please to Condescend To Yield To My Desire We Can Live Most uncommon Comfortable at Yatton Together w^h Place shall Have Great Pleasure (if _you_ please) in _Marrying You From_ and I may (_perhaps_) Do Something handsome for y^r. respectable Brother and Family, w^h can Often Come to see us And Live in the Neighborhood, if You Refuse me, Will not say What shall Happen to _Those_ which (am Told) _Owe me a Precious Long Figure_ w^h May (_perhaps_) Make a Handsome Abatement in, if You And I _Hit it_.

"Hoping You Will Forget What Have So Much Griev^d. me, And Write p^t. return of Post,

"Am, "hon^d. Miss "Y^r. most Loving & Devoted Servant "(Till Death) t.i.tTLEBAT t.i.tMOUSE.

"PARTICULAR Private."

This exquisitely constructed doc.u.ment its accomplished writer sealed twice, and then left, together with sixpence, in the hands of the landlady of the Hare and Hounds, to be delivered at Yatton Hall the first thing in the morning. The good woman, however--having no particular wish to oblige such a strange puppy, whom she was only too glad to get rid of, and having moreover a good deal to attend to--laid the letter aside on the chimney-piece, and entirely lost sight of it for nearly a fortnight. Shortly after the lamentable tidings concerning the impending misfortunes of the Aubrey family had been communicated to the inhabitants of Grilston, she forwarded the letter, (little dreaming of the character in which its writer was likely, erelong, to reappear at Grilston,) together with one or two others, a day or two after Miss Aubrey had had the interview with her brother which I have described to the reader; but it lay unnoticed by any one--above all, by the sweet sufferer whose name was indicated on it--among a great number of miscellaneous letters and papers which had been suffered to acc.u.mulate on the library table.

Mr. Aubrey entered the library one morning, alone, for the purpose of attending to many matters which had been long neglected. He was evidently thinner: his face was pale, and his manner dejected: still there was about him an air of calmness and resolution. Through the richly-pictured old stained-gla.s.s window, the mottled sunbeams were streaming in a kind of tender radiance upon the dear familiar objects around him. All was silent. Having drawn his chair to the table, on which was lying a confused heap of letters and papers, he felt a momentary repugnance to enter upon the task which he had a.s.signed to himself; and rose and walked slowly for some time up and down the room, with folded arms, uttering occasionally profound sighs. At length he resumed his seat, and commenced the disheartening task of opening the many letters before him. One of the earliest that came to his hand was from Peter Johnson--the old tenant to whom he had lent the sum of two hundred pounds, and it was full of fervent expressions of grat.i.tude and respect; Mr. Aubrey's heart ached as he read them. Then came a letter, a fortnight old, bearing the frank of Lord C----, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. He opened it and read:--

"_Whitehall, 16th January, 18--._

"My DEAR AUBREY,

"You will remember that Lord ----'s motion stands for the 28th. We all venture to calculate upon receiving your powerful support in the debate. We expect to be much pressed with the Duke of ----'s affair, which you handled shortly before the recess with such signal ability and success. When you return to town, you must expect a renewal of certain offers, which I most sincerely trust, for the benefit of the public service, will not be _again_ declined.

"Ever yours faithfully, "C----.

"(Private and confidential.) "CHARLES AUBREY, Esq. M. P."

Mr. Aubrey laid down the letter calmly, as soon as he had read it; and leaning back in his chair, seemed lost in thought for several minutes.

Presently he reapplied himself to his task, and opened and glanced over a great many letters; the contents of several of which occasioned him deep emotion. Some were from persons in distress whom he had a.s.sisted, and who implored a continuance of his aid; others were from ardent political friends--some sanguine, others desponding--concerning the prospects of the session. Two or three hinted that it was everywhere reported that he had been offered one of the under secretarys.h.i.+ps, and had declined; but that it was, at the king's desire, to be pressed upon him. Many letters were on private, and still more on county, business; and with one of them he was engaged when a servant entered with one of that morning's county newspapers. Tired with his task, Mr. Aubrey rose from his chair as the servant gave him the paper; and, standing before the fire, unfolded the _Yorks.h.i.+re Stingo_, and glanced listlessly over its miscellaneous contents. At length his eye lit upon the following paragraph:--

"The rumors so deeply affecting a member for a certain borough in this county, and to which we alluded in our last paper but one, turn out to be well founded. A claimant has started up to the very large estates at present held by the gentleman in question; and we are much misinformed if the ensuing spring a.s.sizes will not effect a considerable change in the representation of the borough alluded to, by relieving it from the Tory thraldom under which it has been so long oppressed. We have no wish to bear hard upon a falling man; and, therefore, shall make no comment upon the state of mind in which that person may be presumed to be, who must be conscious of having been so long enjoying the just rights of others. Some extraordinary disclosures may be looked for when the trial comes on. We have heard from a quarter on which we are disposed to place reliance, that the claimant is a gentleman of decided Whig principles, and who will prove a valuable accession to the Liberal cause."[21]

Mr. Aubrey was certainly somewhat shocked by brutality such as this; but on Miss Aubrey's entering the room, he quietly folded up the paper and laid it aside, fearful lest his sister's feelings should be pierced by the coa.r.s.e and cruel paragraph which it contained. It had, in fact, been concocted in London, in the office of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; who were, as before stated, interested in the _Sunday Flash_, which was in some sort connected, through the relations.h.i.+p of the editors, with the _Yorks.h.i.+re Stingo_. The idea had been suggested by Gammon, by way of attempting to enlist the _political_ feeling of a portion of the county, in favor of their client.

"Here are several letters for _you_, Kate," said her brother, picking out several of them. The very first she took up, it having attracted her attention by the double seal, and the vulgar style of the handwriting, was that from t.i.tmouse, which has just been laid before the reader. With much surprise she opened the letter, her brother being similarly engaged with his own; and her face getting gradually paler and paler as she went on, at length she flung it on the floor with a pa.s.sionate air, and burst into tears. Her brother, with astonishment, exclaimed--"Dear Kate, what is it?" and he rose and stooped to pick up the letter.

"Don't--don't, Charles!" she cried, putting her foot upon it, and flinging her arms round his neck. "It is an audacious letter--a vulgar, a cruel letter, dear Charles!" Her emotion increased as her thoughts recurred to the heartless paragraph concerning her brother with which the letter concluded. "I could have overlooked everything but _that_,"

said she, unwittingly. With gentle force he succeeded in getting hold of the painfully ridiculous and contemptible effusion. He attempted faintly to smile several times as he went on.

"Don't--don't, dearest Charles!" said she, pa.s.sionately. "I can't bear it!--Don't smile!--It's very far from your heart; you do it only to a.s.sure _me_!"

Here Mr. Aubrey read the paragraph concerning himself. His face turned a little paler than before, and his lips quivered with suppressed emotion.

"He is evidently a _very_ foolish fellow!" he exclaimed, walking towards the window, with his back to his sister, whom he did not wish to see how much he was affected by so petty an incident.

"What does he allude to, Kate, when he talks of your having spoken angrily to him, and that he did not know you?" he inquired, after a few moments' pause, returning to her.

"Oh, dear!--I am so _grieved_ that you should have noticed it--but since you ask I will not deceive you!" and she told him the disgusting occurrence alluded to in the letter. Mr. Aubrey drew himself up unconsciously as Kate went on, and she perceived him becoming still paler than before, and _felt_ the kindling anger of his eye.

"Forget it--forget it, dearest Charles!--So despicable a being is really not worth a thought," said Kate, with increasing anxiety; for she had never in her life before witnessed her brother the subject of such powerful emotions as then made rigid his slender frame. At length drawing a long breath--

"It is fortunate for him, Kate," said he, calmly, "that _he_ is not a gentleman, and that I _endeavor to be_--a Christian." She flung her arms round him, exclaiming, "There spoke my own n.o.ble brother!"

"I shall preserve this letter as a curiosity, Kate," said he, presently, and with a faint smile, and a pointed significance of manner, which arrested his sister's attention, he added,--"It is rather singular, but some time before you came in, I opened a letter in which your name is mentioned--I cannot say in a _similar_ manner, and yet--in short, it is from Lord De la Zouch, enclosing one"----

Miss Aubrey suddenly blushed scarlet, and trembled violently.

"Don't be agitated, my dear Kate, the enclosure is from Lady De la Zouch; and if it be in the same strain of kindness that pervades Lord De la Zouch's letter to _me_"----

"I would rather that _you_ opened and read it, Charles"--she faltered, sinking into a chair.

"Come, come, dear Kate--play the woman!" said her brother, with an affectionate air--"To say that there is nothing in these letters that I believe will interest you--very deeply gratify and interest your feelings--would be"----

"I know--I--I--suspect--I"---- faltered Miss Aubrey, with much agitation--"I shall return."

"Then you shall take these letters with you, and read, or not read them, as you like," said her brother, putting them into her hand with a fond and sorrowful smile, which soon, however, flitted away--and, leading her to the door, he was once more alone; and, after a brief interval of revery, he wrote answers to such of the many letters before him as he considered earliest to require them.

Notwithstanding the judgment and tenderness with which Dr. Tatham discharged the very serious duty which, at the entreaty of his afflicted friends, he had undertaken, of breaking to Mrs. Aubrey the calamity with which she and her family were menaced, the effects of the disclosure had been most disastrous. They occasioned an attack of paralysis; and Mr.

Aubrey, who had long been awaiting the issue, in sickening suspense, in an adjoining room, was hastily summoned in to behold a mournful and heart-rending spectacle. His venerable mother--she who had given him life, at the mortal peril of her own; she whom he cherished with unutterable tenderness and reverence; she who doted upon him as upon the light of her eyes; from whose dear lips he had never heard a word of unkindness or severity; whose heart had never known an impulse but of gentle, n.o.ble, unbounded generosity towards all around her--this idolized being now lay suddenly prostrated and blighted before him----

Poor Aubrey yielded to his long and violent agony, in the presence of her who could apparently no longer hear or see, or be sensible of what was pa.s.sing in the chamber.

"My son," said Dr. Tatham, after the first burst of his friend's grief was over, and he knelt down beside his mother with her hand grasped in his, "despise not the chastening of the Lord; neither be weary of his correction:

"For whom the Lord loveth, he correcteth, even as a father the son in whom he delighteth.

"The Lord will not cast off forever;

"But though he cause grief, yet will he have compa.s.sion according to the mult.i.tude of his mercies.

"For he doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men."

It was with great difficulty that Dr. Tatham could render himself audible while uttering these soothing and solemn pa.s.sages of Scripture in the ear of his distracted friend, beside whom he knelt.

Mrs. Aubrey had suffered a paralytic seizure, and lay motionless and insensible; her features slightly disfigured, but partially concealed beneath her long silvery gray hair, which had, in the suddenness of the fit, strayed from beneath her cap.

"But what am I about?" at length exclaimed Mr. Aubrey, with a languid and alarmed air--"has medical a.s.sistance"----

"Dr. G.o.ddart and Mr. Whately are both sent for by several servants, and will doubtless be very quickly here," replied Dr. Tatham; and while he yet spoke, Mr. Whately--who, when hastened on by the servant who had been sent for him, was entering the park on a visit to young Mrs.

Aubrey, who was also seriously ill and in peculiarly critical circ.u.mstances--entered the room, and immediately resorted to the necessary measures. Soon afterwards, also, Dr. G.o.ddart arrived; but alas, how little could they do for the venerable sufferer!

During the next, and for many ensuing days, the lodge was a.s.sailed by very many anxious and sympathizing inquirers, who were answered by Waters, whom Mr. Aubrey--oppressed by the number of friends who hurried up to the Hall, and insisted upon seeing him to ascertain the extent to which the dreadful rumors were correct--had stationed there during the day to afford the requisite information. The Hall was pervaded by a gloom which could be _felt_. Every servant had a woe-begone look, and moved about as if a funeral were stirring. Little Charles and Agnes, almost imprisoned in their nursery, seemed quite puzzled and confused at the strange unusual seriousness, and quietness, and melancholy faces everywhere about them. Kate romped not with them as had been her wont; but would constantly burst into tears as she held them on her knee or in her arms, trying to evade the continual questioning of Charles. "I think it will be time for _me_ to cry too, by-and-by!" said he to her one day, with an air half in jest and half in earnest, that made poor Kate's tears flow afresh. Sleepless nights and days of sorrow soon told upon her appearance. Her glorious buoyancy of spirits, which erewhile, as it were, had filled the whole Hall with gladness--where were they now? Ah, me! the rich bloom had disappeared from her beautiful cheek; but her high spirit, though oppressed, was not broken, and she stood firmly and calmly amid the scowling skies and lowering tempests. You fancied you saw her auburn tresses stirred upon her pale but calm brow by the breath of the approaching storm; and that she also felt it, but trembled not, gazing on it with a bright and steadfast eye. Her _heart_ might be, indeed, bruised and shaken; but her _spirit_ was, ay, unconquerable. My glorious Kate, how my heart goes forth towards you!

And thou, her brother, who art of kindred spirit; who art supported by philosophy, and exalted by religion, so that thy constancy cannot be shaken or overthrown by the black and ominous swell of trouble which is increasing and closing around thee, I know that thou wilt outlive the storm--and yet it rocks thee!

A month or two may see thee and thine expelled from Old Yatton, and not merely having lost everything, but with a liability to thy successor which will hang round thy neck like a millstone. What, indeed, is to become of you all? Whither will you go? And your suffering mother, should she indeed survive so long, is her precious form to be borne away from Yatton?

Around thee stand those who, if thou fallest, will perish--and that thou knowest; around thy calm, sorrowful, but erect figure, are a melancholy group--thy afflicted mother--the wife of thy bosom--thy two little children--thy brave and beautiful sister--Yet think not, Misfortune!

that over this man thou art about to achieve thy accustomed triumphs.