Kitabı oku: «Self-control: A Novel», sayfa 30

For a while Lady Pelham's words seemed prophetic, and Laura could not raise her eyes without meeting the gaze of admiration or of scrutiny; but the rooms began to be crowded by the great and the gay, and Laura was relieved from her vexatious distinction. Lady Pelham did not long suffer her to enjoy her release, but rising, proposed that they should walk. Though Laura felt in her own majestic stature a very unenviable claim to notice, a claim rendered more conspicuous by the contrast offered in the figure of her companion, she could not with politeness refuse to accompany her aunt, and giving Lady Pelham her arm, they began their round.

Laura, little acquainted with the ease which prevails in town parties, could not help wondering at the nonchalance of Mrs Clermont, who, leaving her guests to entertain themselves as they chose, was lounging on a sofa playing piquet with Colonel Hargrave. 'Mrs Clermont at piquet,' said Lady Pelham. 'Come Laura, piquet is the only civilized kind of game you play. You shall take a lesson;' and she led her niece forwards through a circle of misses, who, in hopes of catching the attention of the handsome Colonel Hargrave, were tittering and talking nonsense most laboriously. This action naturally drew the eyes of all upon Laura, and Lady Pelham, who expected to find useful engines in her timidity and embarrassment, did not fail to make her remark the notice which she excited. From this notice Laura would have escaped, by seating herself near Mrs Clermont; but Lady Pelham perceiving her intention, placed herself there without ceremony, so as to occupy the only remaining seats, leaving Laura standing alone, shrinking at the consciousness of her conspicuous situation. No one was near her to whom she could address herself, and her only resource was bending down to overlook Mrs Clermont's game.

She had kept her station long enough to be fully sensible of its awkwardness, when Mrs Clermont, suddenly starting up, exclaimed, 'Bless me! I had quite forgotten that I promised to make a loo-table for the Dutchess. Do, my dear Miss Montreville, take my hand for half an hour.' 'Excuse me, Madam,' said Laura, drawing back, 'I play so ill.' 'Nay, Laura,' interrupted Lady Pelham, 'your teacher is concerned to maintain your skill, and I insist on it that you play admirably.' 'Had not your Ladyship better play?' 'Oh no, my dear; I join the loo-table.' 'Come,' said Mrs Clermont, offering Laura the seat she had just quitted, 'I will take no excuse; so sit down, and success attend you!' The seat presented Laura with an inviting opportunity of turning her back upon her inspectors, she was averse from refusing such a trifling request, and rather willing to give Hargrave a proof that she was not insensible to the late improvement in his behaviour. She therefore quietly took the place assigned her, while the trio exchanged smiles of congratulation on the facility with which she had fallen into the snare.

Something, however, yet remained to be arranged, and Lady Pelham and her hostess still kept their stations by her side. While dividing the cards, Laura recollected having observed that, in town, every game seemed played for money; and she asked her antagonist what was to be the stake. He of course referred that point to her own decision; but Laura, in profound ignorance of the arcana of card-tables, blushed, hesitated, and looked at Lady Pelham and Mrs Clermont for instructions. 'We don't play high in this house, my dear,' said Mrs Clermont, 'Colonel Hargrave and I were only playing guineas.' 'Laura is only a beginner,' said Lady Pelham, 'and perhaps half a guinea' – Laura interrupted her aunt by rising and deliberately collecting the cards, 'Colonel Hargrave will excuse me,' said she. 'That is far too great a stake for me.' 'Don't be absurd, my dear,' said Lady Pelham, touching Laura's sleeve, and affecting to whisper; 'why should not you play as other people do?' Laura not thinking this a proper time to explain her conscientious scruples, merely answered, that she could not afford it; and, more embarrassed than before, would have glided away, but neither of her guards would permit her to pass. 'You need not mind what you stake with Hargrave,' said Lady Pelham apart; 'you play so much better than he that you will infallibly win.' 'That does not at all alter the case,' returned Laura. 'It would be as unpleasant to me to win Colonel Hargrave's money as to lose my own.' 'Whatever stake Miss Montreville chooses must be equally agreeable to me,' said Colonel Hargrave; but Laura observed that the smile which accompanied these words had in it more of sarcasm than of complacency. 'I should be sorry, Sir,' said she, 'that you lowered your play on my account. Perhaps some of these young ladies,' continued she, looking round to the talkative circle behind – 'Be quiet, Laura,' interrupted Lady Pelham, again in an under tone; 'you will make yourself the town-talk with your fooleries.' 'I hope not,' returned Laura, calmly; 'but if I do, there is no help; little inconveniencies must be submitted to for the sake of doing right.' 'Lord, Miss Montreville,' cried Mrs Clermont aloud, 'what odd notions you have! Who would mind playing for half a guinea. It is nothing; absolutely nothing. It would not buy a pocket handkerchief.' It would buy a week's food for a poor family, thought Laura; and she was confirmed in her resolution; but not willing to expose this reason to ridicule, and a little displeased that Mrs Clermont should take the liberty of urging her, she coolly, yet modestly replied, 'That such matters must greatly depend on the opinions and circumstances of the parties concerned, of which they were themselves the best judges.' 'I insist on your playing,' said Lady Pelham, in an angry half-whisper. 'If you will make yourself ridiculous, let it be when I am not by to share in the ridicule.' 'Excuse me, Madam, for to-night,' returned Laura, pleadingly. 'Before another evening I will give you reasons which I am sure will satisfy you.' 'I am sure,' said Hargrave, darting a very significant look towards Laura, 'if Miss Montreville, instead of cards, prefers allowing me to attend her in your absence, I shall gain infinitely by the exchange.' Laura, to whom his glance made this hint very intelligible, reddened; and, saying she would by no means interrupt his amusement, was again turning to seek a substitute among her tittering neighbours, when Mrs Clermont prevented her, by calling out to a lady at a considerable distance. 'My dear Dutchess, do have the goodness to come hither, and talk to this whimsical beauty of ours. She is seized with an economical fit, and has taken it into her pretty little head that I am quite a gambler because I fix her stake at half-a-guinea.' 'What may not youth and beauty do!' said her Grace, looking at Laura with a smile half-sly half-insinuating. 'When I was the Miss Montreville of my day, I too might have led the fashion of playing for pence, though now I dare not venture even to countenance it.' The mere circumstance of rank could never discompose Laura; and, rather taking encouragement from the charming though faded countenance of the speaker, she replied, 'But, in consideration of having no pretensions to lead the fashion, may I not claim exemption from following it?' 'Oh, by no means,' said her Grace. 'When once you have entered the world of fashion, you must either be the daring leader or the humble follower. If you choose the first, you must defy the opinions of all other people; and, if the last, you must have a suitable indifference for your own.' 'A gentle intimation,' returned Laura, 'that in the world of fashion I am quite out of place, since nothing but my own opinion is more awful to me than that of others.' 'Miss Montreville,' said Lady Pelham, with an aspect of vinegar, 'we all await your pleasure.' 'Pray, Madam,' answered Laura, 'do not let me detain you a moment; I shall easily dispose of myself.' 'Take up your cards this instant, and let us have no more of these airs,' said Lady Pelham, now without affectation whispering, in order to conceal from her elegant companions the wrath which was, however, distinctly written in her countenance.

It now occurred to Laura as strange, that so much trouble should be taken to prevail upon her to play for more than she inclined. Hargrave, though he had pretended to release her, still kept his seat, and his language had tended rather to embarrass than relieve her. Mrs Clermont had interfered further than Laura thought either necessary or proper; and Lady Pelham was eager to carry her point. Laura saw that there was something in all this which she did not comprehend; and, looking up to seek an explanation in the faces of her companions, she perceived that the whole trio seemed waiting her decision with looks of various interest. The piercing black eyes of Mrs Clermont were fixed upon her with an expression of sly curiosity. Hargrave hastily withdrew a sidelong glance of anxious expectation; while Lady Pelham's face was flushed with angry impatience of delay. 'Has your Ladyship any particular reason for wishing that I should play for a higher stake than I think right?' said Laura, fixing on her aunt a look of calm scrutiny. Too much out of humour to be completely on her guard, Lady Pelham's colour deepened several shades, while she answered, 'I child! what should make you think so?' 'I don't know,' said Laura. 'People sometimes try to convince from mere love of victory; but they seldom take the trouble to persuade without some other motive.' 'Any friend,' said Lady Pelham, recollecting herself, 'would find motive enough for what I have done, in the absurd appearance of these littlenesses to the world, and the odium that deservedly falls on a young miser.' 'Nay, Lady Pelham,' said the Dutchess, 'this is far too severe. Come,' added she, beckoning to Laura, with a gracious smile, 'you shall sit by me, that I may endeavour to enlarge your conceptions on the subject of card-playing.'

Laura, thus encouraged, instantly begged her aunt's permission to pass. Lady Pelham could not decently refuse; and, venting her rage, by pinching Laura's arm till the blood came, and muttering through her clenched teeth, 'obstinate wretch,' she suffered her niece to escape. Laura did not condescend to bestow any notice upon this assault, but, pulling her glove over her wounded arm, took refuge beside the Dutchess. The fascinating manners of a high-bred woman of fashion, and the respectful attentions offered to her whom the Dutchess distinguished by her particular countenance, made the rest of the evening pass agreeably, in spite of the evident ill-humour of Lady Pelham. Her ladyship restrained the further expression of her rage till Laura and she were on their way home; when it burst out in reproaches of the parsimony, obstinacy, and perverseness which had appeared in her niece's refusal to play. Laura listened to her in silence; sensible, that while Lady Pelham's passion overpowered the voice of her own reason, it was vain to expect that she should hear reason from another. But, next day, when she judged that her aunt had had time to grow cool, she took occasion to resume the subject; and explained, with such firmness and precision, her principles in regard to the uses of money and the accountableness of its possessors, that Lady Pelham laid aside thoughts of entangling her by means of play; since it was vain to expect that she would commit to the power of chance that which she habitually considered as the sacred deposit of a father, and specially destined for the support and comfort of his children.

CHAPTER XXIX

Hargrave no sooner perceived the futility of his design to involve Laura in a debt of honour, than he laid aside the disguise which had been assumed to lull her vigilance, and which he had never worn without difficulty. He condescended, however, to save appearance, by taking advantage of the idea which Laura had herself suggested to Lady Pelham, and averred that he had made a powerful effort to recover his self-possession; but he declared that, having totally failed in his endeavours to obtain his liberty, he was determined never to renew them, and would trust to time and accident for removing Laura's prejudice. In vain did she assure him that no time could produce such a revolution in her sentiments as would at all avail him; that though his eminent improvement in worth might secure her esteem, her affections were alienated beyond recall. The old system was resumed, and with greater vigour than before, because with less fear of observation and more frequent opportunities of attack. Every meal, every visit, every public place, furnished occasions for his indefatigable assiduities, from which Laura found no refuge beyond the precincts of her own chamber.

Regardless of the vexation which such a report might give her, he chose to make his suit a subject of the tittle-tattle of the day. By this manœuvre, in which he had before found his advantage, he hoped that several purposes might be served. The publicity of his claim would keep other pretenders at a distance; it would oblige those who mentioned him to Laura to speak, if not favourably, at least with decent caution; and it might possibly at last induce her to listen with less reluctance to what every one spoke of as natural and probable. Lady Pelham seconded his intentions, by hints of her niece's engagement, and confidential complaints to her friends of the mauvaise honte which made Laura treat with such reserve the man to whom she had long been affianced. The consequence of their manœuvring was, that Hargrave's right to persecute Laura seemed universally acknowledged. The men, at his approach, left her free to his attendance; the women entertained her with praises of his person, manners, and equipage; with hints of her situation, too gentle to warrant direct contradiction; or charges made with conviction too strong to yield any form of denial.

Lady Pelham, too, resumed her unwearied remonstrances, and teased, chided, argued, upbraided, entreated, and scolded, through every tedious hour in which the absence of visitors left Laura at her mercy. Laura had at one time determined against submitting to such treatment, and had resolved, that, if it were renewed, she would seek a refuge far from her persecutors, and from England. But that resolution had been formed when there appeared no immediate necessity for putting it in practice; and England contained somewhat to which Laura clung almost unconsciously. Amidst all her vexations, Mrs De Courcy's letters soothed her ruffled spirits; and more than once, when she renewed her determination to quit Lady Pelham, a few lines from Norwood made her pause in its fulfilment, reminding her that a few months, however unpleasing, would soon steal away, and that her return to the country would at least bring some mitigation of her persecutions.

Though Mrs De Courcy wrote often, and confidentially, she never mentioned Montague further than was necessary to avoid particularity. She said little of his health, nothing of his spirits or occupations, and never hinted any knowledge of his rejected love. Laura's inquiries concerning him were answered with vague politeness; and thus her interest in the state of his mind was constantly kept awake. Often did she repeat to herself, that she hoped he would soon learn to consider her merely as a friend; and that which we have often repeated as truth, we in time believe to be true.

Laura had been in town about a month, when one of her letters to Norwood was followed by a longer silence than usual. She wrote again, and still the answer was delayed. Fearing that illness prevented Mrs De Courcy from writing, Laura had endured some days of serious anxiety, when a letter was brought her, addressed in Montague's hand. She hastily tore it open, and her heart fluttered between pleasure and apprehension, when she perceived that the whole letter was written by him. It was short and cautious. He apologized for the liberty he took, by saying, that a rheumatic affection having prevented his mother from using her pen, she had employed him as her secretary, fearing to alarm Laura by longer silence. The letter throughout was that of a kind yet respectful friend. Not a word betrayed the lover. The expressions of tender interest and remembrance with which it abounded, were ascribed to Mrs De Courcy, or at least shared with her, in a manner which prevented any embarrassment in the reply. Laura hesitated for a moment, whether her answer should be addressed to Mrs De Courcy, or to Montague; but Montague was her benefactor, their intimacy was sanctioned by her best friend, and it is not difficult to imagine how the question was decided. Her answer produced a reply, which again was replied to in its turn; and thus a correspondence was established, which, though at first constrained and formal, was taught by Montague's prudent forbearance, to assume a character of friendly ease.

This correspondence, which soon formed one of Laura's chief pleasures, she never affected to conceal from Lady Pelham. On the contrary, she spoke of it with perfect openness and candour. Unfortunately, however, it did not meet with her Ladyship's approbation. She judged it highly unfavourable to her designs in regard to Hargrave. She imagined that, if not already an affair of love, it was likely soon to become so; and she believed that, at all events, Laura's intercourse with the De Courcys would foster those antiquated notions of morality to which Hargrave owed his ill success. Accordingly, she at first objected to Laura's new correspondence; then lectured on its impropriety and imprudence; and, lastly took upon her peremptorily to prohibit its continuance. Those who are already irritated by oppression, a trifle will at last rouse to resistance. This was an exercise of authority so far beyond Laura's expectations, that it awakened her resolution to submit no longer to the importunity and persecution which she had so long endured, but to depart immediately for Scotland. Willing, however, to execute her purpose with as little expence of peace as possible, she did not open her intentions at the moment of irritation. She waited a day of serenity to propose her departure.

In order to procure the means of defraying the expence of her journey, it was become necessary to remind Lady Pelham of her loan, which appeared to have escaped her Ladyship's recollection. Laura, accordingly, one day gently hinted a wish to be repaid. Lady Pelham at first looked surprised, and affected to have forgotten the whole transaction; but, upon being very distinctly reminded of the particulars, she owned that she recollected something of it, and carelessly promised to settle it soon; adding that she knew Laura had no use for the money. Laura then frankly announced the purpose to which she meant to apply it; saying, that, as her aunt was now surrounded by more agreeable society, she hoped she might, without inconvenience, be spared, and would therefore relieve Lady Pelham of her charge, by paying a visit to Mrs Douglas. Rage flamed in Lady Pelham's countenance, while she burst into a torrent of invective against her niece's ingratitude, and coldness of heart; and it mingled with triumph as she concluded by saying, – 'Do, Miss; by all means go to your precious Scotland, but find the means as you best can; for not one penny will I give you for such a purpose. I have long expected some such fine freak as this, but I thought I should disappoint it.' Not daunted by this inauspicious beginning, Laura, taking encouragement from her aunt's known instability, again and again renewed the subject; but Lady Pelham's purposes, however easily shaken by accident or caprice, were ever inflexible to entreaty. 'She possessed,' she said, 'the means of preventing her niece's folly, and she was determined to employ them.' Laura burnt with resentment at the injustice of this determination. She acknowledged no right which Lady Pelham possessed to detain her against her own consent, and she considered the detention of her lawful property as little else than fraud. But perceiving that remonstrance was useless, she judged it most prudent not to embitter, by vain recriminations, an intercourse from which she could not immediately escape. Without further complaint or upbraiding, she submitted to her fate; content with resolving to employ more discreetly the next payment of her annuity, and with making a just but unavailing appeal to her aunt's generosity, by asserting the right of defencelessness to protection. Lady Pelham had not the slightest idea of conceding any thing to this claim. On the contrary, the certainty that Laura could not withdraw from her power, encouraged her to use it with less restraint. She invited Hargrave to a degree of familiarity which he had not before assumed; admitted him at all hours; sanctioned any freedom which he dared to use with Laura; and forced or inveigled her into frequent tête-à-têtes with him.

Fretted beyond her patience, Laura's temper more than once failed under this treatment, and she bitterly reproached Hargrave as the source of all her vexation. As it was, however, her habitual study to convert every event of her life to the purposes of virtue, it soon occurred to her, that, during these compulsory interviews, she might become the instrument of awakening her unworthy lover to more noble pursuits. Like a ray of light, the hope of usefulness darted into her soul, shedding a cheering beam on objects which before were dark and comfortless; and, with all the enthusiastic warmth of her character, she entered on her voluntary task; forgetting, in her eagerness to recal a sinner from the error of his ways, the weariness, disgust, and dread with which she listened to the ravings of selfish passion. She no longer endeavoured to avoid him, no longer listened to him with frozen silence or avowed disdain. During their interviews, she scarcely noticed his protestations, but employed every interval in urging him, with all the eloquence of dread, to retreat from the gulf which was yawning to receive him; in assuring him, with all the solemnity of truth, that the waters of life would repay him a thousand-fold for the poisoned cup of pleasure. Truth, spoken by the loveliest lips in the world, confirmed by the lightnings of a witching eye, kindled at times in Hargrave a something which he mistook for the love of virtue. He declared his abhorrence of his former self, asserted the innocence of his present manner of life, and vowed that, for the future, he should be blameless. But when Laura rather incautiously urged him to give proof of his reformation, by renouncing a passion whose least gratifications were purchased at the expence of justice and humanity, he insisted that she required more than nature could endure, and vehemently protested that he would never, but with life, relinquish the hope of possessing her. Her remonstrances had however one effect, of which she was altogether unconscious. Hargrave could not estimate the force of those motives which led her to labour so earnestly for the conversion of a person wholly indifferent to her; and though she often assured him that her zeal was disinterested, he cherished a hope that she meant to reward his improvement. In this hope he relinquished, for a while, the schemes which he had devised against the unsuspecting Laura, till accident again decided him against trusting to her free consent for the accomplishment of his wishes.

Among other exercises of authority to which Lady Pelham was emboldened by her niece's temporary dependence on her will, she adhered to her former prohibition of Laura's correspondence with De Courcy. Laura, unwilling to make it appear a matter of importance, promised that she would desist; but said that she must first write to Mr De Courcy to account for her seeming caprice. Lady Pelham consented, and the letter was written. It spoke of Laura's situation, of her sentiments, of her regret for Hargrave's strange perseverance, of the dread and vexation to which he occasionally subjected her. To atone for its being the last, it was more friendly, more communicative than any she had formerly written. Laura meant to disguise under a sportive style the effects which oppression had produced upon her spirits; and the playful melancholy which ran throughout, gave her expressions an air of artless tenderness. Lady Pelham passed through the hall as this letter was lying upon the table, waiting for the servant who was to carry it to the post; she looked at it. The sheet was completely filled. She wondered what it could contain. She took it up and examined it, as far as the seal would permit her. What she saw did but increase her curiosity. It was only wafered, and therefore easily opened; but then it was so dishonourable to open a letter. Yet what could the letter be the worse? A girl should have no secrets from her near relations. Still, to break a seal! – It was felony by the law. Lady Pelham laid down the letter and walked away, already proud of having disdained to do a base action; but she heard the servant coming for his charge; she thought it best to have time to consider the matter. She could give him the letter at any time – and she slipped it into her pocket.

Sad sentence is produced against 'the woman who deliberates:' Lady Pelham read the letter; and then, in the heat of her resentment at the manner in which her favourite was mentioned, shewed it to Hargrave. As he marked the innocent confiding frankness, the unconstrained respect, the chastened yet avowed regard, with which Laura addressed his rival, and contrasted them with the timid caution which, even during the reign of passion, had characterized her intercourse with himself, – contrasted them too with the mixture of pity, dislike, and dread, which had succeeded her infatuation, all the pangs of rage and jealousy took hold on the soul of Hargrave. He would have vented his frenzy by tearing the letter to atoms, but Lady Pelham snatched it from his quivering grasp, and dreading detection, sealed and restored it to its first destination.

The first use which he made of his returning powers of self-command, was to urge Lady Pelham's concurrence in a scheme which he had before devised, but which had been laid aside in consequence of his ill-founded hopes. He entreated that her Ladyship would, by an opportune absence, assist his intention; which was, he said, to alarm Laura with the horrors of a pretended arrest for an imaginary debt, and to work upon the gratefulness of her disposition, by himself appearing as her deliverer from her supposed difficulty. Lady Pelham in vain urged the futility of this strategem, representing the obstacles to its accomplishment, and the certainty of early detection. Hargrave continued to importune, and she yielded.

Yet Hargrave himself was as far as Lady Pelham from expecting any fruits from the feeble artifice which he had detailed to her. He had little expectation that Laura could ever be induced to receive any pecuniary obligation at his hands, and still less that she would consider a loan which she might almost immediately repay, as a favour important enough to be rewarded with herself. He even determined that his aid should be offered in terms which would ensure its rejection. Though he durst not venture to unfold his whole plan to Lady Pelham, his real intention was merely to employ the disguise of the law in removing Laura from even the imperfect protection of her aunt, to a place where she would be utterly without defence from his power. To the baseness of his purpose he blinded himself by considering the reparation which he should make in bestowing wealth and title on his victim; its more than savage brutality he forgot in anticipation of the gratitude with which Laura, humbled in her own eyes, and in those of the world, would accept the assiduities which now she spurned. He little knew the being whom he thus devoted to destruction! Incited by jealousy and resentment, he now resolved on the immediate execution of his design; and he did not quit Lady Pelham till he had obtained her acquiescence in it so far as it was divulged to her. He then hastened to prepare the instruments of his villainy; and ere he gave himself time to cool, all was in readiness for the scheme which was to break the innocent heart that had loved and trusted him in seeming virtue, and pitied and prayed for him and warned him in guilt. How had the shades of evil deepened since the time when Hargrave first faltered between his infant passion and a virtuous purpose! He had turned from the path which 'shineth more and more unto the perfect day.' On that in which he trode the night was stealing, slow but sure, which closes at last in outer darkness.

One morning at breakfast, Lady Pelham, with more than usual civility, apologized for leaving Laura alone during the rest of the day, saying that business called her but a few miles out of the town, but that she would return in the evening. She did not say whither she was going; and Laura, never imagining that it could at all concern her to know, did not think of inquiring. Pleasing herself with the prospect of one day of peace and solitude, she saw her aunt depart, and then sat down to detail to the friend of her youth her situation, her wishes, and her intentions. She was interrupted by a servant who came to inform her that two men below desired to speak with her. Wondering who in that land of strangers could have business with her, Laura desired that they should be shewn up stairs. Two coarse robust-looking men, apparently of the lower rank, entered the room. Laura was unable to divine what could have procured her a visit from persons of their appearance; yet, with her native courtesy, she was motioning them to a seat, when one of them stepped forward; and, laying on her shoulder a stick which he held, said, in a rough ferocious voice, 'Laura Montreville, I arrest you at the suit of John Dykes.' Laura was surprised but not alarmed. 'This must be some mistake,' said she, 'I know no such person as John Dykes.' 'He knows you though, and that is enough,' answered the man. 'Friend,' returned Laura, mildly, 'you mistake me for some other person.' 'What, Miss,' said the other man, advancing, 'do you pretend that you are not Laura Montreville, daughter of the late Captain William Montreville, of Glenalbert in Scotland?' Laura, now changing colour, owned that she was the person so described. 'But,' said she, recovering herself, 'I cannot be arrested. I do not owe five shillings in the world.' 'Mayhap not, Miss,' said the man, 'but your father did; and you can be proved to have intermeddled with his effects as his heiress, which makes you liable for all his debts. So you'll please pay me the two hundred pounds which he owed to Mr John Dykes.' 'Two hundred pounds!' exclaimed Laura. 'The thing is impossible. My father left a list of his debts in his own hand-writing, and they have all been faithfully discharged by the sale of his property in Scotland.' The men looked at each other for a moment, and seemed to hesitate; but the roughest of the two presently answered, 'What nonsense do you tell me of lists? who's to believe all that? I have a just warrant; so either pay the money or come along.' 'Surely, friend,' said Laura, who now suspected the people to be mere swindlers, 'you cannot expect that I should pay such a sum without inquiring into your right to demand it. If your claim be a just one, present it in a regular account, properly attested, and it shall be paid to-morrow.' 'I have nothing to do with to-morrow, Miss,' said the man. 'I must do my business. It's all one to me whether you pay or not. It does not put a penny in my pocket: only if you do not choose to pay, come along; for we can't be standing here all day.' 'I cannot procure the money just now, even though I were willing,' answered Laura, with spirit, 'and I do not believe you have any right to remove me.' 'Oh, as for the right, Miss, we'll let you see that. There is our warrant, properly signed and sealed. You may look at it in my hand, for I don't much like to trust you with it.'