University of Virginia Library

22. CHAPTER XXII.
FORTUNE FROWNS.

The next morning at breakfast, Mr. Persever concurring,
Ned decided to decline the generous proposition of the
principal of the college at Summerton. He owned that in
the existing state of his feelings, he must be utterly incompetent
to discharge the duties of the responsible position to
which his benevolent friend was anxious to promote him.
And the consciousness of this fact was a source of pain and
mortification, for he was aware of his great indebtedness to
his reverend friend and protector. But Persever encouraged
him in the hope that another means of payment would be
soon afforded, and the young man, nursing the high anticipations
incident to one of his years and genius, was content
to rely upon the events of the future.

There was one experiment he would try, the nature of
which he did not, from sheer diffidence, communicate to his
legal adviser. He had, during the last year, written a romance
embodying many incidents similar to those that had
occurred during his own youthful career. In truth his
hero very much resembled himself, and his heroine Alice.
This work, he thought, when published, might mend his
fortune. What author ever thought otherwise when his
first work was completed?

Rising from the table, Ned retired to his room and
wrote a formal note to Mr. Lonsdale. He demanded an

explanation “such as one gentleman had a right to demand
of another.” This he sealed, and afterwards begged Mr.
Persever to do him the favor of delivering it in person.
His friend readily agreed to oblige him, not doubting it
was a demand of Alice in marriage, which project he was
quite ready to promote. He had learned many particulars
of the mutual attachment between the young lovers from
Tim Trudge, who, when in the city, never failed to visit the
generous young lawyer who had befriended him in his extremity.

Ned then determined to return to Summerton that day,
and await the response of Mr. Lonsdale. In his half-insanity,
produced by his love, his ill-treatment, his poetical
temperament, and his literary aspirations, any one of
which being sufficient to produce madness, he anticipated
nothing less than a hostile meeting with Lonsdale. He was
quite ready to appear in the field, and sometimes felt that
he was perfectly willing to expire in such a cause.

But just when he was taking leave of Persever, a note
was received from Eugene Bainton. The first sentence
clearly indicated what had been the effect of the evil
influence which Mallex still wielded over his unstable mind.
He said that however much he wished to believe Ned was
his nephew, upon a deliberate reconsideration of all the
testimony pro and con, he was under the necessity of
awaiting further developments before he could take any
decided step in the business. In a postscript, however, he
desired Mr. Persever to call at his office that day at noon,
and to bring Ned with him. He said he felt an affection
for the young man, and whether they were relatives or not,
he had a disposition to serve him.

“I will not go!” said Ned, “I will write him a note,
rejecting with scorn his offensive overture!”

“No, Ned!” said Mr. Persever, somewhat sternly;
“that would be precipitate; it would be wrong. I say
this as a friend, as well as your legal adviser.”

“Pardon it, then, Mr. Persever. You are doubtless in
the right. At least it would be altogether improper for
me to decide in such a matter without your concurrence.
I was and am somewhat under the influence of—”

“An excitement, eh? Very well. I will see him.

Rely upon it, I shall do nothing which I would not subscribe
to were I in your place.”

“I know it. You must forget my silly ebullition. One
thing, however, I cannot submit to; I mean the acceptance
of anything in charity, nor as a bribe not to prosecute.”

“Nor would I, either.”

“Then the whole business is in your hands. I will
sanction whatever you may agree to. Farewell. I will
await Mr. Lonsdale's communication at Summerton. After
two days' delay for the purpose of hearing from him, I
design making a brief visit to New York.”

“One thing more,” said Mr. Persever, still clasping his
client's hand. “You may probably be applied to by
other attorneys, in person or by letter, intimating their
ability to serve you. Mr. Bainton is indiscreet, and,
wherever he may be, is apt to throw out hints of his intentions.
The lawyers are not unlike expert hounds in
scenting a fox. You understand?”

“Oh yes; the whole business is in your hands, and
such applications must be referred to you. If you should
require their assistance, of course you will employ them.”

Ned departed for the boat, with his carpet bag in his
hand, and Persever proceeded to deliver the letter to Mr.
Lonsdale.

At the warf Ned encountered Mr. Radley. He had not
forgotten his face or burly person, although he had not
seen him since the memorable morning that Tim and himself
were arraigned as prisoners before the mayor. Ned
could not, in common civility, refuse the proffered hand
extended towards him in full view of so many people then
passing into the boat.

“You recollect me?” asked the impudent lawyer, as they
stood in the companion way.

“I remember your face—it has not changed, since it
made an impression on my mind. But I have changed,
and I marvel that you recollect me.”

“I happened to see you yesterday in company with my
friends Bainton and Persever, and meeting subsequently
with the former, he told me your name. What do you
suppose he said it was?”

“I care not what he said it was.”

“But you do! By Jupiter, he said, unconsciously, it
was Edward Lorn Parke!”

“And that was true. It is a pity he has not always
spoken unconsciously—it might have been better for his
own name, and for his own happiness.”

“Just so! Since then the whole matter in controversy
between you has occupied my thoughts. You are going up?”

“To Summerton, certainly.”

“I'm glad of it. I have a rich client there I am to see
to-day. But in regard to this business of yours. Perhaps
you are not aware that I have been familiar with most of
the transactions of Bainton and Mallex for a number of
years?”

“I am aware of it.”

“Very well; then you must suppose that I have a
knowledge of their vulnerable points.”

“I cannot say that I understand your meaning. I am
not sure that I know what you allude to by `vulnerable
points.”'

“The weak places where demonstrations may be successfully
made. In short, I have long known that Bainton
was your uncle, and that you were justly entitled to your
father's estate. The difficulty was how it could be proved,
or how to obtain an acknowledgment and restitution from
your uncle.”

“True, that is the difficulty.”

“Was, you mean. It would be so no longer with me.”

“I am glad to hear it. I believe you are his counsel;
and I hope you make this communication at his instance.”

“By no means! You are entirely mistaken. Everything
depends upon skilful management.

“And I have relied solely on the justness of my cause,
and its advocacy by my friend Mr. Persever.'

“Precisely so. And you see the result. Nothing has
been done. Now I will undertake to put you in possession
of your fortune in less than a month, or I will charge
nothing for my services, provided—”

“Provided?”

“Ay, provided my agency in the business be kept a
profound and inviolable secret.”

“I have no secrets in matters of business.”

“Hence you have no fortune.”

“If the fortune be mine, it is justly so, and must
be recovered in an open and honourable manner.”

“I propose nothing that is dishonourable.”

“It would be dishonourable in me to employ a new
agent without the concurrence of my attorney.”

“Granted. But his consent can be obtained. Indeed
as I am not to be known in the transaction, he will be
required to act upon my advice and information.

“Enough!”

“You accede! Give me a line to—”

“No, sir; you are mistaken. I cannot accede to any
such arrangement. I doubt its propriety—I doubt the
motive, sir! Mr. Persever has the entire control of the
business. He may, and no doubt will, employ additional
counsel, if it be necessary, and I shall sanction it. I am
pledged to take no step whatever without his advice, and I
have no disposition to do so.”

“Pledged, eh? That was Persever's suggestion. Farseeing
dog! But, as that settles the question, of course
I may rely upon your honour not to betray me. You will
keep my proposition a secret?”

“I have said I disliked secrets; and I do not perceive
how my honour can be involved. Perhaps I may not
have occasion to refer to this conference.”

“I shall rely upon you,” said Radley, in a loud voice,
taking leave suddenly, and going ashore at —, about
midway between the city and Summerton.