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Do you not see that it is through you, and you alone, that Guy Darrell has for seventeen years been lost to the country he was intended to serve and to adorn? Do you not feel that if he now reject this last opportunity to redeem years so wasted, and achieve a fame that may indeed link his Ancestral Name to the honours of Posterity, you, and you alone, are the cause?"
We have been speaking of nothing else the whole evening. Has not Caroline told you? Arundel Dacre introduced me to them. 'Who are they? 'I forget their names. Dacre, how do you call the heroes of the night? Dacre never answers. Did you ever observe that? But, see! there they come. The Duke turned, and observed Lord Darrell advancing with two gentlemen with whom his Grace was well acquainted.
People do call their unlawful children strange names. Are you quite shure you haven't another alyas, Masther Thames Ditton?" "Darrell, I tell you. Will you go? You'll be paid handsomely for your trouble."
Darrell, while careful not to show too great familiarity with the subject, or too thorough a knowledge of ores in general, yet was so keenly appreciative of their remarkable richness and beauty that he soon won the boy's heart. "Say!" he exclaimed, "you had better stop off at Ophir with us; we would make a mining man of you in less than no time! By the way, how far west are you travelling?"
The young lady would be all right, on his word and honor, my dear Sir Victor, in a week or two. Sir Victor listened very gloomily. He had heard from the hall porter of Mr. Stuart's flying visit, and of his brief interview with Miss Darrell. It was very strange his hasty coming, his hasty going, without seeing any of them, his interview with Edith, and her fainting-fit immediately after.
"How do you mean?" asked the other. "Segui il tuo corso e lascia dir le gente!" quoted Thyrsis; and then he added, "You don't seem to realize that these are newspapers, and nobody really credits them." "Ah, but they do!" cried Darrell. "You don't know what I have been through with! My oldest friends have cut me! Clergymen have refused to sit at table with me!
For by now I had moved about in the world a little, and had learnt that many counted Carford no better than a secret Papist, that he was held in private favour, but not honoured in public, by the Duke of York, and that communications passed freely between him and Arlington by the hand of the secretary's good servant and my good friend Mr Darrell.
And thus, when, after telling him of his final interview with the Minister, Darrell said, "I trust that, in bringing to William Losely this intelligence, I shall at least soften his disappointment, when I make it thoroughly clear to him how impossible it is that his Sophy can ever be more to me to us than a stranger whose virtues create an interest in her welfare" Lionel was stunned as by a blow.
Darrell rarely forgot a face, and never a service. At any time he would have been glad to see the worthy man once more, but at that time he was grateful indeed. "Excuse me," he said bluntly to Mr. Poole, "but I see an old friend." He moved on, and thick as the crowd had become, it made way, with respect as to royalty for the distinguished orator.
Just as Darrell, scarcely heeding the exclamation, and with his musing eyes on the ground, approached the gate, a respectful hand opened it wide, a submissive head bowed low, a voice artificially soft faltered forth words, broken and, indistinct, but of which those most audible were "Pardon, me; something to communicate, important; hear me."
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