CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
AFTER STAYING A YEAR WITH HIM, MR. TREVANNION PROPOSES TO TAKE ME INTOPARTNERSHIP, BUT I DECLINE THE OFFER FROM CONSCIENTIOUS MOTIVES--MISSTREVANNION TREATS ME WITH UNMERITED COLDNESS--THIS AND HER FATHER'SANGER MAKE ME RESOLVE TO QUIT THE HOUSE--WHAT I OVERHEAR AND SEE BEFOREMY DEPARTURE--THE RING.
You may now behold me in a very different position, my dear Madam;instead of the laced hat and hanger at my side, imagine me in a plainsuit of grey with black buttons, and a pen behind my ear; instead ofwalking the deck and balancing to the motion of the vessel, I am nowperched immoveably upon a high stool; instead of sweeping the horizonwith my telescope, or watching the straining and bending of the sparsaloft, I am now with my eyes incessantly fixed upon the ledger orday-book, absorbed in calculation. You may inquire how I liked thechange. At first, I must confess, not over-much, and, notwithstandingmy dislike to the life of a privateersman, I often sighed heavily, andwished that I were an officer in the king's service. The change from alife of activity to one of sedentary habits was too sudden, and I oftenfound myself, with my eyes still fixed upon the figures before me,absorbed in a sort of castle-building reverie, in which I was boardingor chasing the enemy, handling my cutlass, and sometimes so moved by myimagination as to brandish my arm over my head, when an exclamation ofsurprise from one of the clerks would remind me of my folly, and, angrywith myself; I would once more resume my pen. But after a time I hadmore command over myself; and could sit steadily at my work. MrTrevannion had often observed how absent I was, and it was a source ofamusement to him; when we met at dinner, his daughter would say, "So Ihear you had another sea-fight this morning, Mr Elrington;" and herfather would laugh heartily as he gave a description of my ridiculousconduct.
I very soon, with the kind assistance of Mr Trevannion, became masterof my work, and gave him satisfaction. My chief employment consisted inwriting the letters to correspondents. At first I only copied MrTrevannion's letters in his private letter-book; but as I became awareof the nature of the correspondence, and what was necessary to bedetailed, I then made a rough copy of the letters, and submitted them toMr Trevannion for his approval. At first there were a few alterationsmade, afterwards I wrote them fairly out, and almost invariably theygave satisfaction, or, if anything was added, it was in a postscript.Mr Trevannion's affairs, I found, were much more extensive than I hadimagined. He had the two privateers, two vessels on the coast of Africatrading for ivory and gold-dust and other articles, two or three vesselsemployed in trading to Virginia for tobacco and other produce, and somesmaller vessels engaged in the Newfoundland fisheries, which, when theyhad taken in their cargo, ran to the Mediterranean to dispose of it, andreturned with Mediterranean produce to Liverpool. That he was a verywealthy man, independent of his large stakes upon the seas, was certain.He had lent much money to the guild of Liverpool, and had some tenantedproperties in the county; but of them I knew nothing, except from thepayment of the rents. What surprised me much was, that a man of MrTrevannion's wealth, having but one child to provide for, should notretire from business--and I once made the remark to his daughter. Herreply was: "I thought as you do once, but now I think differently. WhenI have been on a visit with my father, and he has stayed away forseveral weeks, you have no idea how restless and uneasy he has becomefrom want of occupation. It has become his habit, and habit is secondnature. It is not from a wish to accumulate that he continues at thecounting-house, but because he cannot be happy without employment. I,therefore, do not any longer persuade him to leave off, as I amconvinced that it would be persuading him to be unhappy. Until youcame, I think the fatigue was too great for him; but you have, as heapprises me, relieved him of the heaviest portion of the labour, and Ihardly need say that I am rejoiced that you have so done."
"It certainly is not that he requires to make money, Miss Trevannion;and, as he is so liberal in everything, I must credit what you assert,that it is the dislike to having no employment which induces him tocontinue in business. It has not yet become such a habit in me,"continued I, smiling; "I think I could leave it off with greatpleasure."
"But is not that because you have not yet recovered from your formerhabits, which were so at variance with a quiet and a sedentary life?"replied she.
"I fear it is so," said I, "and I believe, of all habits, those of avagrant are the most difficult to overcome. You used to laugh at me thefirst few months that I was here. I presume that I am a littleimproved, as I have not been attacked lately?"
"My father says so, and is much pleased with you, Mr Elrington, if mytelling you so gives you any satisfaction."
"Certainly it does, because I wish to please him."
"And me, too, I hope?"
"Yes, most truly, Miss Trevannion; I only wish I had it in my power toshow how much I study your good opinion."
"Will you risk my father's displeasure for it?" replied she, looking atme fixedly.
"Yes, I will, provided--"
"Oh! There is a proviso already."
"I grant that there should not have been any, as I am sure that youwould not ask me to do anything which is wrong. And my proviso was,that I did not undertake what my conscience did not approve."
"Your proviso was good, Mr Elrington, for when a woman would persuade,a man should be particularly guarded that he is not led into error by arash promise. I think, however, that we are both agreed upon the point.I will therefore come at once to what I wish you to do. It is theintention of my father, in the course of a few days, when you shall haveaccomplished your year of service, to offer to take you intopartnership; and I am certain it will be on liberal terms. Now I wishyou to refuse his offer unless he gives up privateering."
"I will do so at all risks, and I am truly glad that I have yourencouragement for taking such a bold step."
"I tell you frankly that he will be very indignant. There is anexcitement about the privateering which has become almost necessary tohim, and he cares little about the remainder of his speculations. He isso blind to the immorality to which it leads, that he does not think itis an unlawful pursuit; if he did, I am sure that he would abandon it.All my persuasion has been useless."
"And if a favourite and only daughter cannot prevail, what chance haveI, Miss Trevannion?"
"A better chance, Mr Elrington; he is partial to me, but I am a woman,and he looks upon my observations as a woman's weakness. The objectionsraised by a man, a young man, and one who has so long been activelyengaged in the service, will, therefore, carry more weight; besides, hehas now become so accustomed to you, and has had so much trouble takenoff his hands, and, at the same time, has such implicit confidence inyou, that I do not think, if he finds that he has to choose between yourleaving him and his leaving off privateering, he will hesitate inrelinquishing the latter. You have, moreover, great weight with him,Mr Elrington; my father is fully aware of the deep obligation he isunder to your courage and self-devotion in the affair of the Jacobiterefugees. You will, therefore, succeed, if you are firm; and, if you dosucceed, you will have my gratitude, if that is of any importance toyou; my friendship you know you have already."
The entrance of Mr Trevannion prevented my reply. We had been waitingfor his return from a walk, and dinner had been ready some time. "Ihave just seen some of the men of the Arrow," said Mr Trevannion,taking off his hat and spencer, "and that detained me."
"Has Captain Levee arrived, then, Sir?" said I.
"No; but he has sent in a prize--of no great value--laden with lightwares. The men in charge tell me he has had a rough affair with avessel armed _en flute_, and that he has lost some men. Your brotherPhilip, as usual, is wounded."
I should here observe, that during the year which had passed away thetwo privateers had been several times in port--they had met withmoderate success, barely sufficient to pay their expenses; my brotherPhilip had always conducted himself very gallantly, and had been twicewounded in different engagements.
"Well, Sir," replied I, "I do not think
that the loss of a little bloodwill do any harm to such a hot-headed youth as Master Philip; but I hopein a short time to give him an opportunity of shedding it in the serviceof the king, instead of in the pursuit of money. Indeed," continued I,as I sat down to table, "the enemy are now so cautious, or have so fewvessels on the high seas, that I fear your privateering account currentwill not be very favourable, when balanced, as it will be in a few days,notwithstanding this cargo of wares just arrived."
"Then we must hope better for next year," replied Mr Trevannion. "Amy,my dear, have you been out to-day?"
"Yes, Sir; I was riding for two hours."
"Have they altered your pillion yet?"
"Yes, Sir; it came home last night, and it is now very comfortable."
"I called at Mrs Carleton's, who is much better. What a fop that MrCarleton is--I don't know what scented powder he uses, but it perfumedthe whole room. Had not Mrs Carleton been such an invalid, I shouldhave opened the window."
Mr Trevannion then turned the conversation to some politicalintelligence which he had just received, and this engaged us till thedinner was over, and I returned to the counting-house, where I found themen who had brought in the prize, and who gave me a letter from Philip,stating that his wound was of no consequence.
The communication of Mr Trevannion took place, as his daughter hadassured me it would, on the anniversary of my entering into MrTrevannion's counting-house. After dinner, as we, as usual, weresmoking our pipes, Mr Trevannion said: "Elrington, you have been withme now one year, and during that time you have made yourself fullymaster of your business;--much to my surprise, I acknowledge, but stillmore to my satisfaction. That I have every reason to be satisfied withyou, you may imagine, when I tell you that it is now my intention totake you into partnership, and I trust by my so doing that you will soonbe an independent man. You know the capital in the business as well asI do. I did say an eighth, but I now propose to make ever to youone-fourth, and to allow your profits of every year (deducting yournecessary expenses) to be invested in the business, until you haveacquired a right to one half. Of future arrangements we will speakhereafter."
"Mr Trevannion," replied it, "that I am truly grateful for suchunexpected liberality I hardly need say, and you have my best thanks foryour noble offer; but I have scruples which, I must confess, I cannotget over."
"Scruples!" exclaimed Mr Trevannion, laying down his pipe on the table."Oh! I see now," continued he, after a pause; "you think I am robbingmy daughter. No, no, the labourer is worthy of his hire, and she willhave more than sufficient. You carry your conscientiousness too far, mydear fellow; I have more than enough for Amy, out of the businessaltogether."
"I am aware of that, Sir," added I, "and I did not, therefore, refer toyour daughter when I said that I had scruples. I must be candid withyou, Sir. How is it that I am now in your employ?"
"Why, because you had a dislike to privateering, and I had a debt ofgratitude to pay."
"Exactly, Sir; but whether you had been pleased to employ me or not, Ihad made up my mind, as you well know, from conscientious motives, notto continue on board of a privateer."
"Well, I grant that."
"The same motives, Sir, will not allow me to be a sharer in the profitsarising from such sources. I should consider myself equally wrong if Idid so, as if I remained on board. Do not be angry with me, Sir,"continued I; "if I, with many thanks, decline your offer of being yourpartner, I will faithfully serve you upon any salary which you mayconsider I may merit, and trust to your liberality in everything."
Mr Trevannion made no reply; he had resumed his pipe, and continued tosmoke it, with his eyes fixed upon the mantel-piece. As soon as hispipe was out, he rose, put on his hat, and walked out of the room,without making any further observation. I waited a few minutes, andthen went back to the counting-house.
That Mr Trevannion was seriously offended I was convinced; but I valuedthe good opinion of his daughter more than I did that of Mr Trevannion;indeed, my feelings towards her had, during the year that I had been inthe house, gradually become of that nature that they threatened much mypeace of mind. I cannot say that I loved her in the usual acceptationof the term,--adoration would better express what I felt. She was sopure, so perfect, such a model of female perfection, that I looked up toher with a reverence which almost quelled any feeling of love. I feltthat she was above me, and that, with her wealth, it would be madnessfor one in my present position to aspire to her. Yet with this feelingI would have sacrificed all my hopes and present advantages to haveobtained her approving smiles. It is not, therefore, to be wondered atthat I risked Mr Trevannion's displeasure to gain her approbation; andwhen I resumed my seat at my desk, and thought of what had passed, Imade up my mind to be once more an outcast in the world rather thanswerve from the promise which I had made to her. I knew Mr Trevannionto be a very decided man, and hasty when offended. That he wasseriously offended with me there was no doubt. I found that he hadquitted the house immediately after he had left the room. I had hopedthat he had gone to his daughter's apartments, and that a conversationwith her might have produced a good effect; but such was not the case.
In about half an hour Mr Trevannion returned, and as he walked into theback room adjoining the counting-house, he desired me to follow him. Idid so. "Mr Elrington," said he, sitting down, and leaving me standingat the table, "I fear, after what has passed, that we shall not continueon good terms. You have reproached me, an old man, with carrying on anunlawful business; in short, in raising your own scruples and talking ofyour own conscience, you have implied that I am acting contrary to whatconscience should dictate. In short, you have told me, by implication,that I am not an honest man. You have thrown back in my face my liberaloffer. My wish to oblige you has been treated not only withindifference, but I may add with contumely;--and that merely because youhave formed some absurd notions of right and wrong in which you willfind no one to agree with you, except, perhaps, priests and women. Iwish you well, Mr Elrington, nevertheless. I am truly sorry for yourinfatuation, and wished to have served you, but you will not be assistedby me."
Here Mr Trevannion paused, but I made no reply. After a time, wipingthe perspiration from his forehead with his handkerchief, for heevidently was in a state of great excitement, he continued:
"As you do not choose to join me from conscientious scruples, I cannotbut imagine that you do not like to serve me from similar motives, for Isee little difference between the two (and here, Madam, there was someforce in his observation, but it never occurred to me before); at allevents, without weighing your scruples so exactly as to know how farthey may or may not extend, I feel that we are not likely to get onpleasantly together. I shall always think that I am reproached by youwhen anything is said connected with the privateers, and you may havetwinges of conscience which may be disagreeable to you. Let us,therefore, part quietly. For your services up to the present, and toassist you in any other engagements you may enter on, take this--"
Mr Trevannion opened a lower drawer of the table, and put before me abag containing, as I afterwards discovered, 250 gold jacobuses.
"I wish you well, Mr Elrington, but I sincerely wish that we had nevermet."
Mr Trevannion then rose abruptly, and, before I could make my reply,brushed past me, went out at the door, and again walked away at a rapidpace down the street. I remained where I stood; my eyes had followedhim as he went away. I was completely surprised. I anticipated muchanger, much altercation; but I never had an idea that he would be sounjust as to throw off in this way one who for his sake had gone througha heavy trial and come out with honour. My heart was full ofbitterness. I felt that Mr Trevannion had treated me with harshnessand ingratitude.
"Alas!" thought I, "such is the world, and such will ever be the casewith such imperfect beings as we are. How vain to expect anything likeconsistency, much less perfection, in our erring natures! Hurt but theself-love of a man, wound his vanity, and all obligations areforgo
tten."
I turned away from the bag of money, which I was resolved not to accept,although I had not at the time twenty guineas at my own disposal. Itwas now within half an hour of dark; I collected all my books, put somein the iron safe, others as usual in my desk, and having arrangedeverything as completely as I could, I locked the safe, and enclosed thekeys in a parcel, which I sealed. Putting Mr Trevannion's name on theoutside, I laid the parcel on the table in the room where we had had ourconference, by the side of the bag of money.
It was now dark, or nearly so, and leaving the confidential porter, asusual, to shut up the house, I went up to the sitting-room with theexpectation of seeing Miss Trevannion, and bidding her farewell. I wasnot disappointed; I found her at her netting, having just lighted thelamp which hung over the table.
"Miss Trevannion," said I, advancing respectfully towards her, "I havefulfilled my promise, and I have received my reward,"--she looked up atme--"which is, I am dismissed from this house and your presence forever."
"I trust," said she, after a pause, "that you have not exceeded mywishes. It appears to me so strange, that I must think that such is thecase. My father never could have dismissed you in this way for merelyexpressing an opinion, Mr Elrington. You must have gone too far."
"Miss Trevannion, when you meet your father, you can then ascertainwhether I have been guilty of intemperance or rudeness, or a proper wantof respect in making the communication,--which I did in exactly themanner you yourself proposed, and my reward has been such as I state."
"You have a better reward, Mr Elrington, if what you assert is reallycorrect; you have the reward of having done your duty; but I cannotimagine that your dismissal has arisen from the mere expression of anopinion. You'll excuse me, Mr Elrington, that, as a daughter, Icannot, in justice to a much-respected father, believe that such is thecase."
This was said in so cold a manner, that I was nettled to the highestdegree. Miss Trevannion had promised me her gratitude, instead of whichI felt that she was doubting my word, and, as it were, taking the sideof her father against me. And this was the return from her. I couldhave upbraided her, and told her what I felt; namely, that she had takenadvantage of my feelings towards her to make me a cat's-paw to obtainher end with her father; and that now, having failed, I was left to myfate, without even commiseration; but she looked so calm, so grave, andso beautiful, that I could not do it. I commanded my wounded feelings,and replied:
"Since I have the misfortune to meet the displeasure of the daughter aswell as of the father, Miss Trevannion, I have not another word to say,but farewell, and may you prosper."
My voice faltered as I said the last words, and, bowing to her, Iquitted the room. Miss Trevannion did not even say farewell to me, butI thought that her lips appeared to move, as quitting the room I took mylast look upon her beautiful face. I shut the door after me, and,overpowered by my feelings, I sank upon a settee in the ante-room, in astate of giddy stupor. I know not how long I remained there, for myhead turned and my senses reeled; but I was aroused from it by the heavytread of Mr Trevannion, who came along the corridor without a light,and not perceiving me opened the door of the sitting-room where hisdaughter still remained. He threw the door to after he had entered, butit did not quite close, leaving a narrow stream of light through theante-room.
"Father," said Miss Trevannion in my hearing, "you look warm andexcited."
"I have reason so to be," replied Mr Trevannion, abruptly.
"I have heard from Mr Elrington the cause of it," replied MissTrevannion; "that is, I have heard his version of it. I am glad thatyou have come back, as I am most anxious to hear yours. What has MrElrington said or done to cause such irritation and his dismissal?"
"He has behaved with insolence and ingratitude," replied Mr Trevannion;"I offered him partnership, and he refused, unless I would give upprivateering."
"So he stated; but in what manner was he insolent to you?"
"Insolent!--told me that he acted from conscientious motives, which wasas much as to say that I did not."
"Was his language very offensive?"
"No, not his language--that was respectful enough; but it was the veryrespect which made it insolent. So I told him that as he could not,from scruples of conscience, join me in privateering, of course hisscruples of conscience could not allow him to keep the books, and Idismissed him."
"Do you mean to say, my dear father, that he, in a respectful manner,declined entering into partnership from these scruples which youmention; that he gave you no other offence than expressing his opinion,and declining your offer?"
"And what would you have more?" replied Mr Trevannion.
"I wish to know where was the insult, the ingratitude, on his part whichyou complain of?"
"Simply in refusing the offer. He ought to have felt grateful, and hewas not; and he had no right to give such reasons as he did; for thereasons were condemning my actions. But you women cannot understandthese things."
"I rather think, my dear father, that we cannot; for I cannot perceiveeither the insult or the ingratitude which you complain of, and such Ithink will be your own opinion when you have had time to reflect, andare more cool. Mr Elrington expressed nothing more to-day, when hestated his dislike to privateering from conscientious motives, than hedid after his return from his confinement in the Tower, when he gave upthe command of the privateer on those very grounds; and then, when stillwarm with gratitude to him for his self-devotion, you did not considerit an insult, but, on the contrary, took him still nearer to you intoyour own house. Why, then, should you consider it an insult now?Neither can I see any ingratitude. You made him an offer, the value ofwhich, in a worldly point of view, he could not but appreciate, and hedeclined it from conscientious motives; declined it, as you acknowledge,respectfully; proving that he was ready to sacrifice his worldlyinterests to what he considered his duty as a Christian. When MrElrington told me that you had dismissed him, I felt so certain that hemust have been guilty of some unpardonable conduct towards you to haveinduced you to have resorted to such a step, that I did not credit himwhen he asserted the contrary. I could not believe, as a daughter,anything so much to the prejudice of my own father, and so much atvariance with his general conduct. I now feel that I have been mostunjust to Mr Elrington, and conducted myself towards him in a way whichI bitterly regret, and hope by some means to be able to express mycontrition for--"
"Amy--Amy," said Mr Trevannion, severely, "are you blinded by regardfor this young man, that you side against your own father? Am I tounderstand that you have given your affections without my sanction orapproval?"
"No, Sir," replied Miss Trevannion; "that I do respect and regard MrElrington is true, and I cannot do otherwise for his many good qualitiesand his devotion towards you; but if you would ask me if I love him, Ireply that such a thought has not yet entered my head. Without aknowledge of who he is, or his family, and without your approval, Ishould never think of yielding up my affections in so hasty a manner;but I may say more: these affections have never been solicited by MrElrington. He has always behaved towards me with that respect, which,as the daughter of his patron, I have had a right to expect; but in noinstance has he ever signified to me that he had any preference in myfavour. Having assured you of this, my dear father, I cannot but saythat I consider that he has, in this instance, not only been treatedwith injustice by you, but also by me."
"Say no more," replied Mr Trevannion. As he said this, I heardfootsteps in the passage, and was about to retreat to my own room; but,as the party came without a light, I remained. It was the porter, whoknocked at the sitting-room door, and was requested to come in by MrTrevannion.
"If you please, Sir, Mr Elrington is gone out, I believe, and I foundthis packet directed to you on the table of the inner room, and alsothis bag of money, which I suppose you forgot to put away before youleft."
"Very well, Humphrey, leave them on the table."
The man did so, and quitted the room, not per
ceiving me in the dark ashe passed through the ante-room.
"He has not taken the money," observed Mr Trevannion. "He might havedone so, as he ought to be paid for his services."
"I presume, my dear father, that his feelings were too much hurt by whatpassed," said Miss Trevannion. "There are obligations which cannot berepaid with gold."
"These, I perceive, are the keys of the safe; I did not think that hewould have gone away this night."
I now considered it high time to quit the ante-room, where I had beenirresistibly detained by the conversation which took place. I hastenedto my own chamber, determined that I would leave the house the nextmorning before any one was stirring. I gained it in the dark, but,having the means of striking a light, I did so, and packed up all myclothes ready for my departure. I had just fastened down my valise,when I perceived a light on the further end of the long corridor whichled to my apartment. Thinking it might be Mr Trevannion, and notwishing to see him, I blew out my own light and retreated to a smalldressing-room, within my chamber, communicating by a glass door. Thelight evidently approached, and at last I perceived the party wasentering my room, the door of which was wide open. It was MissTrevannion who entered, and, turning round with her chamber-light in herhand, appeared to survey the apartment with a mournful air. Sheperceived my valise, and her eyes were fixed upon it for some time; atlast she walked up to the dressing-table, and, sitting on the stoolbefore it, leant down her head upon her hands and wept.
"Alas!" thought I, "if those tears were but for me; but it is not so--she has been excited, and her tears have come to her relief."
After a time she raised her head from the table, and said, "How unjusthave I been--and I shall see him no more!--if I could but beg hispardon, I should be more happy. Poor fellow!--what must he have felt atmy harsh bearing. Oh! My father, I could not have believed it. Andwhat did I say?--that I had no feeling for--well, I thought so at thetime, but now--I am not quite sure that I was correct, though he--well,it's better that he's gone--but I cannot bear that he should have goneas he has done. How his opinion of me must have changed! That is whatvexes me--" and again she bent her head down on the table and wept.
In a moment she again rose, and took her candle in her hand. Perceivingon the dressing-table a small gold ring which I had taken off my fingerthe day before, and had forgotten, she took it up and examined it.After a little while she laid her light down on the table, and put thering upon her finger.
"I will keep it till I see him again," murmured she; and then taking herlight she walked slowly out of the room.
The knowledge I had gained by this unintentional eaves-dropping on mypart, was the source of much reflection; and as I lay on the bed withouttaking off my clothes, it occupied my thoughts till the day began tobreak. That I still retained the good opinion of Miss Trevannion wascertain, and the mortification I had endured at our final interview wasnow wholly removed. It was her duty to suppose her parent not in faulttill the contrary was proved. She had known her father for years--meshe had only known for a short time--and never before had she known himguilty of injustice. But her expressions and her behaviour in my room--was it possible that she was partial to me, more partial than she hadasserted to her father when she was questioned?--and her taking away thering!