Arthur Mervyn; Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793 Read online

  CHAPTER XXII.

  This narrative threw new light on the character of Welbeck. If accidenthad given him possession of this treasure, it was easy to predict onwhat schemes of luxury and selfishness it would have been expended. Thesame dependence on the world's erroneous estimation, the same devotionto imposture, and thoughtlessness of futurity, would have constitutedthe picture of his future life, as had distinguished the past.

  This money was another's. To retain it for his own use was criminal. Ofthis crime he appeared to be as insensible as ever. His owngratification was the supreme law of his actions. To be subjected to thenecessity of honest labour was the heaviest of all evils, and one fromwhich he was willing to escape by the commission of suicide.

  The volume which he sought was mine. It was my duty to restore it to therightful owner, or, if the legal claimant could not be found, to employit in the promotion of virtue and happiness. To give it to Welbeck wasto consecrate it to the purpose of selfishness and misery. My right,legally considered, was as valid as his.

  But, if I intended not to resign it to him, was it proper to disclosethe truth and explain by whom the volume was purloined from the shelf?The first impulse was to hide this truth; but my understanding had beentaught, by recent occurrences, to question the justice and deny theusefulness of secrecy in any case. My principles were true; my motiveswere pure: why should I scruple to avow my principles and vindicate myactions?

  Welbeck had ceased to be dreaded or revered. That awe which was oncecreated by his superiority of age, refinement of manners, and dignityof garb, had vanished. I was a boy in years, an indigent and uneducatedrustic; but I was able to discern the illusions of power and riches, andabjured every claim to esteem that was not founded on integrity. Therewas no tribunal before which I should falter in asserting the truth, andno species of martyrdom which I would not cheerfully embrace in itscause.

  After some pause, I said, "Cannot you conjecture in what way this volumehas disappeared?"

  "No," he answered, with a sigh. "Why, of all his volumes, this onlyshould have vanished, was an inexplicable enigma."

  "Perhaps," said I, "it is less important to know how it was removed,than by whom it is now possessed."

  "Unquestionably; and yet, unless that knowledge enables me to regain thepossession, it will be useless."

  "Useless then it will be, for the present possessor will never return itto you."

  "Indeed," replied he, in a tone of dejection, "your conjecture is mostprobable. Such a prize is of too much value to be given up."

  "What I have said flows not from conjecture, but from knowledge. I knowthat it will never be restored to you."

  At these words, Welbeck looked at me with anxiety and doubt:--"You_know_ that it will not! Have you any knowledge of the book? Can youtell me what has become of it?"

  "Yes. After our separation on the river, I returned to this house. Ifound this volume and secured it. You rightly suspected its contents.The money was there."

  Welbeck started as if he had trodden on a mine of gold. His firstemotion was rapturous, but was immediately chastened by some degree ofdoubt:--"What has become of it? Have you got it? Is it entire? Have youit with you?"

  "It is unimpaired. I have got it, and shall hold it as a sacred trustfor the rightful proprietor."

  The tone with which this declaration was accompanied shook the new-bornconfidence of Welbeck. "The rightful proprietor! true, but I am he. Tome only it belongs, and to me you are, doubtless, willing to restoreit."

  "Mr. Welbeck! It is not my desire to give you perplexity or anguish; tosport with your passions. On the supposition of your death, I deemed itno infraction of justice to take this manuscript. Accident unfolded itscontents. I could not hesitate to choose my path. The natural and legalsuccessor of Vincentio Lodi is his sister. To her, therefore, thisproperty belongs, and to her only will I give it."

  "Presumptuous boy! And this is your sage decision. I tell you that I amthe owner, and to me you shall render it. Who is this girl? Childish andignorant! Unable to consult and to act for herself on the most trivialoccasion. Am I not, by the appointment of her dying brother, herprotector and guardian? Her age produces a legal incapacity of property.Do you imagine that so obvious an expedient as that of procuring mylegal appointment as her guardian was overlooked by me? If it wereneglected, still my title to provide her subsistence and enjoyment isunquestionable.

  "Did I not rescue her from poverty, and prostitution, and infamy? Have Inot supplied all her wants with incessant solicitude? Whatever hercondition required has been plenteously supplied. The dwelling and itsfurniture was hers, as far a rigid jurisprudence would permit. Toprescribe her expenses and govern her family was the province of herguardian.

  "You have heard the tale of my anguish and despair. Whence did they flowbut from the frustration of schemes projected for her benefit, as theywere executed with her money and by means which the authority of herguardian fully justified? Why have I encountered this contagiousatmosphere, and explored my way, like a thief, to this recess, but witha view to rescue her from poverty and restore to her her own?

  "Your scruples are ridiculous and criminal. I treat them with lessseverity, because your youth is raw and your conceptions crude. But if,after this proof of the justice of my claim, you hesitate to restore themoney, I shall treat you as a robber, who has plundered my cabinet andrefused to refund his spoil."

  These reasonings were powerful and new. I was acquainted with the rightsof guardianship. Welbeck had, in some respects, acted as the friend ofthis lady. To vest himself with this office was the conduct which heryouth and helplessness prescribed to her friend. His title to thismoney, as her guardian, could not be denied.

  But how was this statement compatible with former representations? Nomention had then been made of guardianship. By thus acting, he wouldhave thwarted all his schemes for winning the esteem of mankind andfostering the belief which the world entertained of his opulence andindependence.

  I was thrown, by these thoughts, into considerable perplexity. If hisstatement were true, his claim to this money was established; but Iquestioned its truth. To intimate my doubts of his veracity would be toprovoke abhorrence and outrage.

  His last insinuation was peculiarly momentous. Suppose him thefraudulent possessor of this money: shall I be justified in taking itaway by violence under pretence of restoring it to the genuineproprietor, who, for aught I know, may be dead, or with whom, at least,I may never procure a meeting? But will not my behaviour on thisoccasion be deemed illicit? I entered Welbeck's habitation at midnight,proceeded to his closet, possessed myself of portable property, andretired unobserved. Is not guilt imputable to an action like this?

  Welbeck waited with impatience for a conclusion to my pause. Myperplexity and indecision did not abate, and my silence continued. Atlength, he repeated his demands, with new vehemence. I was compelled toanswer. I told him, in few words, that his reasonings had not convincedme of the equity of his claim, and that my determination was unaltered.

  He had not expected this inflexibility from one in my situation. Thefolly of opposition, when my feebleness and loneliness were contrastedwith his activity and resources, appeared to him monstrous and glaring;but his contempt was converted into rage and fear when he reflectedthat this folly might finally defeat his hopes. He had probablydetermined to obtain the money, let the purchase cost what it would, butwas willing to exhaust pacific expedients before he should resort toforce. He might likewise question whether the money was within hisreach. I had told him that I had it, but whether it was now about me wassomewhat dubious; yet, though he used no direct inquiries, he chose toproceed on the supposition of its being at hand. His angry tones werenow changed into those of remonstrance and persuasion:--

  "Your present behaviour, Mervyn, does not justify the expectation I hadformed of you. You have been guilty of a base theft. To this you haveadded the deeper crime of ingratitude, but your infatuation and follyare, at least, as glaring as your guilt. Do yo
u think I can credit yourassertions that you keep this money for another, when I recollect thatsix weeks have passed since you carried it off? Why have you not soughtthe owner and restored it to her? If your intentions had been honest,would you have suffered so long a time to elapse without doing this? Itis plain that you designed to keep it for your own use.

  "But, whether this were your purpose or not, you have no longer power torestore it or retain it. You say that you came hither to die. If so,what is to be the fate of the money? In your present situation youcannot gain access to the lady. Some other must inherit this wealth.Next to _Signora Lodi_, whose right can be put in competition with mine?But, if you will not give it to me on my own account, let it be given intrust for her. Let me be the bearer of it to her own hands. I havealready shown you that my claim to it, as her guardian, is legal andincontrovertible, but this claim I waive. I will merely be the executorof your will. I will bind myself to comply with your directions by anyoath, however solemn and tremendous, which you shall prescribe."

  As long as my own heart acquitted me, these imputations of dishonestyaffected me but little. They excited no anger, because they originatedin ignorance, and were rendered plausible to Welbeck by such facts aswere known to him. It was needless to confute the charge by elaborateand circumstantial details.

  It was true that my recovery was, in the highest degree, improbable, andthat my death would put an end to my power over this money; but had Inot determined to secure its useful application in case of my death?This project was obstructed by the presence of Welbeck; but I hoped thathis love of life would induce him to fly. He might wrest this volumefrom me by violence, or he might wait till my death should give himpeaceable possession. But these, though probable events, were notcertain, and would, by no means, justify the voluntary surrender. Hisstrength, if employed for this end, could not be resisted; but then itwould be a sacrifice, not a choice, but necessity.

  Promises were easily given, but were surely not to be confided in.Welbeck's own tale, in which it could not be imagined that he hadaggravated his defects, attested the frailty of his virtue. To put intohis hands a sum like this, in expectation of his delivering it toanother, when my death would cover the transaction with impenetrablesecrecy, would be, indeed, a proof of that infatuation which he thoughtproper to impute to me.

  These thoughts influenced my resolutions, but they were revolved insilence. To state them verbally was useless. They would not justify myconduct in his eyes. They would only exasperate dispute, and impel himto those acts of violence which I was desirous of preventing. The soonerthis controversy should end, and I in any measure be freed from theobstruction of his company, the better.

  "Mr. Welbeck," said I, "my regard to your safety compels me to wish thatthis interview should terminate. At a different time, I should not beunwilling to discuss this matter. Now it will be fruitless. Myconscience points out to me too clearly the path I should pursue for meto mistake it. As long as I have power over this money, I shall keep itfor the use of the unfortunate lady whom I have seen in this house. Ishall exert myself to find her; but, if that be impossible, I shallappropriate it in a way in which you shall have no participation."

  I will not repeat the contest that succeeded between my forbearance andhis passions. I listened to the dictates of his rage and his avarice insilence. Astonishment at my inflexibility was blended with his anger. Byturns he commented on the guilt and on the folly of my resolutions.Sometimes his emotions would mount into fury, and he would approach mein a menacing attitude, and lift his hand as if he would exterminate meat a blow. My languid eyes, my cheeks glowing and my temples throbbingwith fever, and my total passiveness, attracted his attention andarrested his stroke. Compassion would take the place of rage, and thebelief be revived that remonstrances and arguments would answer hispurpose.