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Updated: September 1, 2025
He had cooled, and cool it was idle for him to tell himself that Lord Ostermore, by his heartless allusion to the crime of his early years, had proved himself worthy of nothing but the pit Mr. Caryll had been sent to dig for him. There were moments when he sought to compel himself so to think, to steel himself against all other considerations. But it was idle.
"What's here?" cried the earl, without glancing at his son. "Is he dead? Is he dead?" Gascoigne, who was busily endeavoring to stanch the bleeding, answered without looking up: "It is in God's hands. I think he is very like to die." Ostermore swung round upon Rotherby. He had paled suddenly, and his mouth trembled.
He took his head in his hands, and, elbows on the table, he sat very still a moment, reviewing as in a flash the events of thirty and more years ago, when he and Viscount Rotherby as Ostermore was then had been young men at the St. Germain's Court of James II.
"Do you know, sir, in what year this lady went through a ceremony of marriage with my father the late Lord Ostermore? It was in 1690, I think, as the lady will no doubt confirm." "To what purpose, this?" quoth Mr. Templeton. "The purpose will be presently apparent. Observe that date," said Mr. Caryll, and he pointed to the document in Mr. Templeton's hand. Mr.
In that half-hour he gave himself again very seriously to the contemplation of his position. He had no illusions on the score of Lord Ostermore, and he rated his father no higher than he deserved. But he was just and shrewd in his judgment, and he was forced to confess that he had found this father of his vastly different from the man he had been led to expect.
Caryll had been a fool to have supposed that any other springs were pushing here. Egotism, egotism, egotism! Its name, he thought, was surely Ostermore. And again, as once before, under the like circumstances, he found more pity than scorn awaking in his heart.
Even in that other thirty-year-old matter that so closely touched Mr. Caryll, the latter was sure that the same pitiful shortcomings might be urged in the man's excuse. Meanwhile, behind him at Stretton House, Mr. Caryll had left a scene of strife between Lady Ostermore and her son on one side and Lord Ostermore on the other.
It is not that my heart stirs much where my Lord Ostermore is concerned. And yet, for the sake of the name that is mine now, I shall leave England as I came Mr. Justin Caryll, neither more nor less. "In the eyes of the world there is no slur upon my mother's name, because her history her supposed history was unknown. See that none ever falls on it, else shall you find me pitiless indeed.
"There is no reason why I should detain your lordship," said he, "and these operations The lady " He waved an expressive hand, bent an expressive eye upon the earl. Lord Ostermore seemed to waver. He was not he had never been a man to think for others. But Hortensia cut in before he could reply. "We will wait," she said.
"And you are right, egad!" cried Lord Ostermore, advancing. "Harkee, you dirty spy, this is no way to deal with gentlemen. Be off, now, and take your carrion-crows with you, or I'll have my grooms in with their whips to you." "To me?" roared Green. "I represent the Secretary of State." "Ye'll represent a side of raw venison if you tarry here," the earl promised him. "D'ye dare look me in the eye?
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