"So he stated; but in what manner was he insolent to you?"

"Insolent!--told me that he acted from conscientious motives, which was as 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 very respect which made it insolent. So I told him that as he could not, from scruples of conscience, join me in privateering, of course his scruples of conscience could not allow him to keep the books, and I dismissed him."

"Do you mean to say, my dear father, that he, in a respectful manner, declined entering into partnership from these scruples which you mention; 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 ingrat.i.tude, on his part which you complain of?"

"Simply in refusing the offer. He ought to have felt grateful, and he was not; and he had no right to give such reasons as he did; for the reasons were condemning my actions. But you women cannot understand these things."

"I rather think, my dear father, that we cannot; for I cannot perceive either the insult or the ingrat.i.tude which you complain of, and such I think will be your own opinion when you have had time to reflect, and are more cool. Mr Elrington expressed nothing more to-day, when he stated his dislike to privateering from conscientious motives, than he did after his return from his confinement in the Tower, when he gave up the command of the privateer on those very grounds; and then, when still warm with grat.i.tude to him for his self-devotion, you did not consider it an insult, but, on the contrary, took him still nearer to you into your own house. Why, then, should you consider it an insult now?

Neither can I see any ingrat.i.tude. You made him an offer, the value of which, in a worldly point of view, he could not but appreciate, and he declined it from conscientious motives; declined it, as you acknowledge, respectfully; proving that he was ready to sacrifice his worldly interests to what he considered his duty as a Christian. When Mr Elrington told me that you had dismissed him, I felt so certain that he must have been guilty of some unpardonable conduct towards you to have induced you to have resorted to such a step, that I did not credit him when he a.s.serted the contrary. I could not believe, as a daughter, anything so much to the prejudice of my own father, and so much at variance with his general conduct. I now feel that I have been most unjust to Mr Elrington, and conducted myself towards him in a way which I bitterly regret, and hope by some means to be able to express my contrition for--"

"Amy--Amy," said Mr Trevannion, severely, "are you blinded by regard for this young man, that you side against your own father? Am I to understand that you have given your affections without my sanction or approval?"

"No, Sir," replied Miss Trevannion; "that I do respect and regard Mr Elrington is true, and I cannot do otherwise for his many good qualities and his devotion towards you; but if you would ask me if I love him, I reply that such a thought has not yet entered my head. Without a knowledge of who he is, or his family, and without your approval, I should never think of yielding up my affections in so hasty a manner; but I may say more: these affections have never been solicited by Mr Elrington. 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 no instance has he ever signified to me that he had any preference in my favour. Having a.s.sured you of this, my dear father, I cannot but say that I consider that he has, in this instance, not only been treated with injustice by you, but also by me."

"Say no more," replied Mr Trevannion. As he said this, I heard footsteps in the pa.s.sage, and was about to retreat to my own room; but, as the party came without a light, I remained. It was the porter, who knocked at the sitting-room door, and was requested to come in by Mr Trevannion.

"If you please, Sir, Mr Elrington is gone out, I believe, and I found this packet directed to you on the table of the inner room, and also this bag of money, which I suppose you forgot to put away before you left."

"Very well, Humphrey, leave them on the table."

The man did so, and quitted the room, not perceiving me in the dark as he pa.s.sed through the ante-room.

"He has not taken the money," observed Mr Trevannion. "He might have done so, as he ought to be paid for his services."

"I presume, my dear father, that his feelings were too much hurt by what pa.s.sed," said Miss Trevannion. "There are obligations which cannot be repaid with gold."

"These, I perceive, are the keys of the safe; I did not think that he would have gone away this night."

I now considered it high time to quit the ante-room, where I had been irresistibly detained by the conversation which took place. I hastened to my own chamber, determined that I would leave the house the next morning 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 my clothes ready for my departure. I had just fastened down my valise, when I perceived a light on the further end of the long corridor which led to my apartment. Thinking it might be Mr Trevannion, and not wishing to see him, I blew out my own light and retreated to a small dressing-room, within my chamber, communicating by a gla.s.s door. The light evidently approached, and at last I perceived the party was entering my room, the door of which was wide open. It was Miss Trevannion who entered, and, turning round with her chamber-light in her hand, appeared to survey the apartment with a mournful air. She perceived my valise, and her eyes were fixed upon it for some time; at last she walked up to the dressing-table, and, sitting on the stool before 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 unjust have I been--and I shall see him no more!--if I could but beg his pardon, I should be more happy. Poor fellow!--what must he have felt at my harsh bearing. Oh! My father, I could not have believed it. And what did I say?--that I had no feeling for--well, I thought so at the time, 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 gone as he has done. How his opinion of me must have changed! That is what vexes 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. Perceiving on the dressing-table a small gold ring which I had taken off my finger the 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 the ring upon her finger.

"I will keep it till I see him again," murmured she; and then taking her light she walked slowly out of the room.

The knowledge I had gained by this unintentional eaves-dropping on my part, was the source of much reflection; and as I lay on the bed without taking off my clothes, it occupied my thoughts till the day began to break. That I still retained the good opinion of Miss Trevannion was certain, and the mortification I had endured at our final interview was now wholly removed. It was her duty to suppose her parent not in fault till the contrary was proved. She had known her father for years--me she had only known for a short time--and never before had she known him guilty of injustice. But her expressions and her behaviour in my room-- was it possible that she was partial to me, more partial than she had a.s.serted to her father when she was questioned?--and her taking away the ring!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A CONSPIRACY, WHICH ENDS SATISFACTORILY TO ALL PARTIES--PRIVATEERING IS ABANDONED, AND CAPTAIN LEVEE AND PHILIP SERVE THE KING.

The night pa.s.sed away in attempts at a.n.a.lysing the real feelings of Miss Trevannion, and also my own towards her; and now that I was to be separated from her, I discovered what I really had not before imagined, that my future happiness was seriously endangered by my sentiments towards her; in short, dear Madam, that I was most seriously in love.

"And now," thought I, "of what avail is it to have made this discovery now, except it were to convince me, as Miss Trevannion had said, that it were better that I were gone."

I did not fail to call to mind her observation about my unknown parentage and family, and this I reflected upon with pleasure, as it was the chief objection raised by her, and, at the same time, one that I could proudly remove, from my birth being really more distinguished than her own. Should I make it known? How could I?--we should, probably, never meet again. All this, and much more, was canva.s.sed in my mind during the night, and also another question of more real importance, which was, what I was to do, and where I was to go? On this last point I could not make up my mind, but I determined that I would not leave Liverpool for a day or two, but would take up my quarters at my old lodgings, where I had lived with Captain Levee.

As the day dawned, I rose from the bed, and, taking my valise on my shoulder, I went softly down-stairs, opened the street-door, and, shutting it again carefully, I hastened down the street as fast as I could. I met n.o.body, for it was still early, and arrived at the lodging-house, where I had some trouble to obtain admittance; the old lady at last opening the door in great dishabille.

"Captain Elrington! Is it possible," exclaimed she, "why, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, Madam," replied I, "but that I have come to take possession of your lodgings for a few days."

"And welcome, Sir," replied she; "will you walk up-stairs while I make myself more fit to be seen. I was in bed and fast asleep when you knocked; I do believe I was dreaming of my good friend, Captain Levee."

I went up-stairs and threw myself on the old settee which was so familiar to me, and somehow or another, in a few minutes I was in a sound sleep. How long I might have slept on I cannot tell, but in less than an hour I was waked up by loud talking and laughter, and a few seconds afterwards found myself embraced by my brother Philip and Captain Levee. The Arrow had anch.o.r.ed at break of day, and they had just come on sh.o.r.e. I was delighted to see them, as every one is when he meets with friends when he is in distress. I briefly stated how it was that they found me there, and when breakfast was on the table, I entered into full details of what had pa.s.sed, with the exception of Miss Trevannion having entered my room--that I considered too sacred to repeat to any one.

"You know, my dear Elrington," said Captain Levee, "that I have not the scruples which you have relative to privateering, but still I respect the conscientious scruples of others. There is no excuse for Mr Trevannion's conduct, and I cannot think but there is something else at the bottom of all this. You haven't been making love to his daughter, or, what would amount to the same thing, she has not been making advances to you?"

"I have not dared the first, Levee, and you do not know her, to suppose her capable of the latter."

"Well, if she had done so, there would have been no harm done," replied he; "but I will say no more as you look so grave. Philip and I will now call upon Mr Trevannion; and while I engage the old gentleman, Philip shall run alongside of the young maiden, and between the two we shall get our bearings and distance, and know how the land lies--and I will tell you more, Elrington, although I have no objection to be captain of a privateer, I certainly consider the command of a king's ship more reputable; and if I could manage to get the Arrow hired into the king's service (I still remaining in command of her), I should prefer it being so. At all events, I'll side with you, and that will drive the old gentleman on a dead lee-sh.o.r.e. Come along, Philip--we shall be with you in two hours, Elrington." With these words Captain Levee left the room, followed by my brother.

It was nearly three hours before they returned, and then I received the following narratives: Captain Levee, as he sat down, said, "Now, Philip, we'll hear your account first."

"Well, mine is soon told," replied Philip; "I had made up my mind how to act, and did not tell Captain Levee what I intended to do. When Mr Trevannion met us in the room behind the counting-house he appeared very much flurried: he shook hands with Captain Levee, and offered me his hand, which I refused, saying, 'Mr Trevannion, I have just seen my brother, and I hardly need say that nothing will induce me to remain in your employ. I will, therefore, thank you for my wages at your convenience.'

"'Hey-day, young man,' cried he, 'you give yourself strange airs. Well, Sir, you shall have your discharge; I can do without such snip-jacks as you are.'

"'Snip-jacks! Mr Trevannion,' replied I; 'if I must say it, we are better born and better bred than you or any of your connexions, and you were honoured by our service.'"

"You said that, Philip?--then you were wrong!"

"I told the truth."

"Still, you should not have said it; we took his service, and therefore--"

"We are not snip-jacks," interrupted Philip, "and his calling names brought on the reply."

"You must admit the provocation, Elrington," said Captain Levee.

"Well, go on, Philip."

"'Indeed,' said Mr Trevannion, in a great pa.s.sion; 'well, then, I will soon rid myself of the obligation. Call this afternoon, Master Philip, and you shall receive your wages. You may now quit the room.'