CHAPTER I.
_Partly Retrospective, yet Very Necessary to be Perused_.
EARLY five years had elapsed between the event which formed the subjectof our last chapter and the recall to England of the regiment in whichCaptain Armine now commanded a company. This period of time had passedaway not unfruitful of events in the experience of that family, inwhose fate and feelings I have attempted to interest the reader. In thisinterval Ferdinand Armine had paid one short visit to his native land;a visit which had certainly been accelerated, if not absolutelyoccasioned, by the untimely death of his cousin Augustus, thepresumptive heir of Grandison. This unforeseen event produced a greatrevolution in the prospects of the family of Armine; for although thetitle and an entailed estate devolved to a distant branch, the absoluteproperty of the old lord was of great amount; and, as he had no maleheir now living, conjectures as to its probable disposition werenow rife among all those who could possibly become interested in it.Whatever arrangement the old lord might decide upon, it seemed nearlycertain that the Armine family must be greatly benefited. Some personseven went so far as to express their conviction that everything would beleft to Mr. Armine, who everybody now discovered to have always been aparticular favourite with his grandfather. At all events, Sir Ratcliffe,who ever maintained upon the subject a becoming silence, thought itas well that his son should remind his grandfather personally of hisexistence; and it was at his father's suggestion that Ferdinand hadobtained a short leave of absence, at the first opportunity, to pay ahurried visit to Grandison and his grandfather.
The old lord yielded him a reception which might have flattered themost daring hopes. He embraced Ferdinand, and pressed him to his heart athousand times; he gave him his blessing in the most formal manner everymorning and evening; and assured everybody that he now was not only hisfavourite but his only grandson. He did not even hesitate to affect agrowing dislike for his own seat, because it was not in his power toleave it to Ferdinand; and he endeavoured to console that fortunateyouth for his indispensable deprivation by mysterious intimations thathe would, perhaps, find quite enough to do with his money in completingArmine Castle, and maintaining its becoming splendour. The sanguineFerdinand returned to Malta with the conviction that he was hisgrandfather's heir; and even Sir Ratcliffe was almost disposed tobelieve that his son's expectations were not without some show ofprobability, when he found that Lord Grandison had absolutely furnishedhim with the funds for the purchase of his company.
Ferdinand was fond of his profession. He had entered it under favourablecircumstances. He had joined a crack regiment in a crack garrison. Maltais certainly a delightful station. Its city, Valetta, equals in itsnoble architecture, if it even do not excel, any capital in Europe;and although it must be confessed that the surrounding region is littlebetter than a rock, the vicinity, nevertheless, of Barbary, of Italy,and of Sicily, presents exhaustless resources to the lovers of thehighest order of natural beauty. If that fair Valetta, with its streetsof palaces, its picturesque forts and magnificent church, only crownedsome green and azure island of the Ionian Sea, Corfu for instance, Ireally think that the ideal of landscape would be realised.
To Ferdinand, who was inexperienced in the world, the dissipationof Malta, too, was delightful. It must be confessed that, under allcircumstances, the first burst of emancipation from domestic routinehath in it something fascinating. However you may be indulged at home,it is impossible to break the chain of childish associations; it isimpossible to escape from the feeling of dependence and the habit ofsubmission. Charming hour when you first order your own servants, andride your own horses, instead of your father's! It is delightful evento kick about your own furniture; and there is something manly andmagnanimous in paying our own taxes. Young, lively, kind, accomplished,good-looking, and well-bred, Ferdinand Armine had in him all theelements of popularity; and the novelty of popularity quite intoxicateda youth who had passed his life in a rural seclusion, where he had beenappreciated, but not huzzaed. Ferdinand was not only popular, but proudof being popular. He was popular with the Governor, he was popular withhis Colonel, he was popular with his mess, he was popular throughout thegarrison. Never was a person so popular as Ferdinand Armine. He was thebest rider among them, and the deadliest shot; and he soon became anoracle at the billiard-table, and a hero in the racquet-court. Hisrefined education, however, fortunately preserved him from the fateof many other lively youths: he did not degenerate into a mere hero ofsports and brawls, the genius of male revels, the arbiter of roisteringsuppers, and the Comus of a club. His boyish feelings had their play; hesoon exuded the wanton heat of which a public school would have servedas a safety-valve. He returned to his books, his music, and his pencil.He became more quiet, but he was not less liked. If he lost somecompanions, he gained many friends; and, on the whole, the mostboisterous wassailers were proud of the accomplishments of theircomrade; and often an invitation to a mess dinner was accompanied by ahint that Armine dined there, and that there was a chance of hearing himsing. Ferdinand now became as popular with the Governor's lady as withthe Governor himself, was idolised by his Colonel's wife, while not aparty throughout the island was considered perfect without the presenceof Mr. Armine.
Excited by his situation, Ferdinand was soon tempted to incur expenseswhich his income did not justify. The facility of credit afforded himnot a moment to pause; everything he wanted was furnished him; and untilthe regiment quitted the garrison he was well aware that a settlementof accounts was never even desired. Amid this imprudence he was firm,however, in his resolution never to trespass on the resources of hisfather. It was with difficulty that he even brought himself to draw forthe allowance which Sir Ratcliffe insisted on making him; and he wouldgladly have saved his father from making even this advance, by vagueintimations of the bounty of Lord Grandison, had he not feared thisconduct might have led to suspicious and disagreeable enquiries. Itcannot be denied that his debts occasionally caused him anxiety, butthey were not considerable; he quieted his conscience by the beliefthat, if he were pressed, his grandfather could scarcely refuse todischarge a few hundred pounds for his favourite grandson; and, at allevents, he felt that the ultimate resource of selling his commissionwas still reserved for him. If these vague prospects did not drive awaycompunction, the qualms of conscience were generally allayed in theevening assembly, in which his vanity was gratified. At length he paidhis first visit to England. That was a happy meeting. His kind father,his dear, dear mother, and the faithful Glastonbury, experienced some ofthe most transporting moments of their existence, when they beheld,with admiring gaze, the hero who returned to them. Their eyes were neversatiated with beholding him; they hung upon his accents. Then came thetriumphant visit to Grandison; and then Ferdinand returned to Malta, inthe full conviction that he was the heir to fifteen thousand a year.
Among many other, there is one characteristic of capitals in whichValetta is not deficient: the facility with which young heirs apparent,presumptive, or expectant, can obtain any accommodation they desire. Theterms; never mind the terms, who ever thinks of them? As for FerdinandArmine, who, as the only son of an old baronet, and the supposed futureinheritor of Armine Park, had always been looked upon by tradesmen witha gracious eye, he found that his popularity in this respect was not atall diminished by his visit to England, and its supposed consequences;slight expressions, uttered on his return in the confidence ofconvivial companionship, were repeated, misrepresented, exaggerated, andcirculated in all quarters. We like those whom we love to be fortunate.Everybody rejoices in the good luck of a popular character; and soon itwas generally understood that Ferdinand Armine had become next in theentail to thirty thousand a year and a peerage. Moreover, he was notlong to wait for his inheritance. The usurers pricked up their ears, andsuch numerous proffers of accommodation and assistance were made to thefortunate Mr. Armine, that he really found it quite impossible to refusethem, or to reject the loans that were almost forced on his acceptance.
Ferdinand Armine had pa
ssed the Rubicon. He was in debt. If youth butknew the fatal misery that they are entailing on themselves the momentthey accept a pecuniary credit to which they are not entitled, how theywould start in their career! how pale they would turn! how they wouldtremble, and clasp their hands in agony at the precipice on which theyare disporting! Debt is the prolific mother of folly and of crime;it taints the course of life in all its dreams. Hence so many unhappymarriages, so many prostituted pens, and venal politicians! It hath asmall beginning, but a giant's growth and strength. When we make themonster we make our master, who haunts us at all hours, and shakes hiswhip of scorpions for ever in our sight. The slave hath no overseer sosevere. Faustus, when he signed the bond with blood, did not secure adoom more terrific. But when we are young we must enjoy ourselves. True;and there are few things more gloomy than the recollection of a youththat has not been enjoyed. What prosperity of manhood, what splendourof old age, can compensate for it? Wealth is power; and in youth, of allseasons of life, we require power, because we can enjoy everything thatwe can command. What, then, is to be done? I leave the question tothe schoolmen, because I am convinced that to moralise with theinexperienced availeth nothing.
The conduct of men depends upon their temperament, not upon a bunch ofmusty maxims. No one had been educated with more care than FerdinandArmine; in no heart had stricter precepts of moral conduct ever beeninstilled. But he was lively and impetuous, with a fiery imagination,violent passions, and a daring soul. Sanguine he was as the day; hecould not believe in the night of sorrow, and the impenetrable gloomthat attends a career that has failed. The world was all before him; andhe dashed at it like a young charger in his first strife, confident thathe must rush to victory, and never dreaming of death.
Thus would I attempt to account for the extreme imprudence of hisconduct on his return from England. He was confident in his futurefortunes; he was excited by the applause of the men, and the admirationof the women; he determined to gratify, even to satiety, his restlessvanity; he broke into profuse expenditure; he purchased a yacht; heengaged a villa; his racing-horses and his servants exceeded all otherestablishments, except the Governor's, in breeding, in splendour, and innumber. Occasionally wearied with the monotony of Malta, he obtained ashort leave of absence, and passed a few weeks at Naples, Palermo, andRome, where he glittered in brilliant circles, and whence he returnedladen with choice specimens of art and luxury, and followed by thereport of strange and flattering adventures. Finally, he was the primepatron of the Maltese opera, and brought over a celebrated Prima Donnafrom San Carlo in his own vessel.
In the midst of his career, Ferdinand received intelligence of the deathof Lord Grandison. Fortunately, when he received it he was alone; therewas no one, therefore, to witness his blank dismay when he discoveredthat, after all, he was not his grandfather's heir! After a vast numberof trifling legacies to his daughters, and their husbands, and theirchildren, and all his favourite friends, Lord Grandison left the wholeof his property to his grand-daughter Katherine, the only remainingchild of his son, who had died early in life, and the sister of thelately deceased Augustus.
What was to be done now? His mother's sanguine mind, for Lady Arminebroke to him the fatal intelligence, already seemed to anticipatethe only remedy for this 'unjust will.' It was a remedy delicatelyintimated, but the intention fell upon a fine and ready ear. Yes! hemust marry; he must marry his cousin; he must marry Katherine Grandison.Ferdinand looked around him at his magnificent rooms; the damaskhangings of Tunis, the tall mirrors from Marseilles, the inlaid tables,the marble statues, and the alabaster vases that he had purchased atFlorence and at Rome, and the delicate mats that he had himself importedfrom Algiers. He looked around and he shrugged his shoulders: 'All thismust be paid for,' thought he; 'and, alas! how much more!' And then cameacross his mind a recollection of his father and his cares, and innocentArmine, and dear Glastonbury, and his sacrifice. Ferdinand shook hishead and sighed.
'How have I repaid them,' thought he. 'Thank God, they know nothing.Thank God, they have only to bear their own disappointments and theirown privations; but it is in vain to moralise. The future, not thepast, must be my motto. To retreat is impossible; I may yet advance andconquer. Katherine Grandison: only think of my little cousin Kate fora wife! They say that it is not the easiest task in the world to fana lively flame in the bosom of a cousin. The love of cousins isproverbially not of a very romantic character. 'Tis well I have notseen her much in my life, and very little of late. Familiarity breedscontempt, they say. Will she dare to despise me?' He glanced at themirror. The inspection was not unsatisfactory. Plunged in profoundmeditation, he paced the room.