Part 23 (2/2)

'As for that young lady, sir, of whom you spoke, I can a.s.sure you, once for all, as her clergyman, and therefore more or less her confidant, that your nephew has not the slightest chance or hope in that quarter.'

'How, sir? You will not throw obstacles in the way?'

'Heaven, sir, I think, has interposed far more insuperable obstacles--in the young lady's own heart--than I could ever have done. Your nephew's character and opinions, I am sorry to say, are not such as are likely to command the respect and affection of a pure and pious Churchwoman.'

'Opinions, sir? What, is he turning Papist, too?'

'I am afraid, sir, and more than afraid, for he makes no secret of it himself, that his views tend rather in the opposite direction; to an infidelity so subversive of the commonest principles of morality, that I expect, weekly, to hear of some unblus.h.i.+ng and disgraceful outrage against decency, committed by him under its fancied sanction. And you know, as well as myself, the double danger of some profligate outbreak, which always attends the miseries of a disappointed earthly pa.s.sion.'

'True, very true. We must get the boy out of the way, sir. I must have him under my eye.'

'Exactly so, sir,' said the subtle vicar, who had been driving at this very point. 'How much better for him to be here, using his great talents to the advantage of his family in an honourable profession, than to remain where he is, debauching body and mind by hopeless dreams, G.o.dless studies, and frivolous excesses.'

'When do you return, sir?'

'An hour hence, if I can be of service to you.'

The banker paused a moment.

'You are a gentleman' (with emphasis on the word), 'and as such I can trust you.'

'Say, rather, as a clergyman.'

'Pardon me, but I have found your cloth give little additional cause for confidence. I have been as much bitten by clergymen--I have seen as sharp practice among them, in money matters as well as in religious squabbles, as I have in any cla.s.s. Whether it is that their book education leaves them very often ignorant of the plain rules of honour which bind men of the world, or whether their zeal makes them think that the end justifies the means, I cannot tell; but--'

'But,' said the vicar, half smiling, half severely, 'you must not disparage the priesthood before a priest.'

'I know it, I know it; and I beg your pardon: but if you knew the cause I have to complain. The slipperiness, sir, of one staggering parson, has set rolling this very avalanche, which gathers size every moment, and threatens to overwhelm me now, unless that idle dog Lancelot will condescend to bestir himself, and help me.'

The vicar heard, but said nothing.

'Me, at least, you can trust,' he answered proudly; and honestly, too--for he was a gentleman by birth and breeding, unselfish and chivalrous to a fault--and yet, when he heard the banker's words, it was as if the inner voice had whispered to him, 'Thou art the man!'

'When do you go down?' again asked Mr. Smith. 'To tell you the truth, I was writing to Lancelot when you were announced! but the post will not reach him till to-morrow at noon, and we are all so busy here, that I have no one whom I can trust to carry down an express.'

The vicar saw what was coming. Was it his good angel which prompted him to interpose?

'Why not send a parcel by rail?'

'I can trust the rail as far as D--; but I cannot trust those coaches. If you could do me so great a kindness--'

'I will. I can start by the one o'clock train, and by ten o'clock to-night I shall be in Whitford.'

'Are you certain?'

'If G.o.d shall please, I am certain.'

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