"I am come to save you," answered Filippo, in a voice so low, that his words were scarcely intelligible. "Do not be afraid—I am he who wrote the warning letter, which——"
Without a moment's farther hesitation, Ellen gently raised the window.
"I am he who wrote the warning letter which you received at the theatre," repeated Filippo. "Although ostensibly compelled to serve my master, yet privately I counteract all his vile schemes to the utmost of my power."
"I believe you—I trust you," said Ellen, overjoyed at the arrival of this unlooked-for succour. "What would you have me do?"
"Tie the sheets of the bed together—fasten one end to the bed-post, and throw the other outside," returned Filippo, speaking in a rapid whisper.
In less than a minute this was done; and Ellen once more assumed her bonnet and shawl.
By the directions of Filippo she then stepped upon the window-sill: he received her in his arms, and bore her in safety to the ground.
Then, taking the ladder on his shoulders, he desired her to follow him without speaking a word.
They passed behind the house, and stopped for a moment at a stable where Filippo deposited the ladder. He then led the way across a field adjoining the garden that belonged to the house.
"Lady," said the Italian, when they were at some distance from the dwelling, "if you consider that you owe me any gratitude for the service I am now rendering you, all the recompense I require is strict silence on your part with respect to the real mode of your escape."
"Rest well assured that I shall never betray you," answered Ellen. "But how is it that so bad a man as your master can possess so honest and generous a follower as you?"
"That, lady, is a mystery which it is by no means difficult to explain," replied Filippo. "Chosen by a noble-hearted lady, who by this time doubtless enjoys a sovereign rank in another clime, to counteract the villanies of Greenwood, I came to England; and fortunately I learnt that he required a foreign valet. I applied for the situation and obtained it. He believes me faithful, because I appear to enter heart and soul into all his schemes; but I generally succeed eventually in defeating or mitigating their evil effects upon others. This is the simple truth, lady; and you must consider my confidence in you as implicitly sacred. Any revelation—the slightest hint, on your part, would frustrate the generous purposes of my mistress. And think not, lady, that I am merely acting the part of a base spy:—I mean Mr. Greenwood no harm—I shall do him none: all I aim at is the prevention of harm springing from his machinations in regard to others. But we are now at the spot where a vehicle waits to convey you back to London."
Filippo opened the door of a barn, which they had just reached; and the cabman responded to his summons.
In a few minutes the vehicle was ready to depart. Ellen offered the Italian a recompense for his goodness towards her; but he drew himself up haughtily, and said, "Keep your gold, lady: I require no other reward than silence on your part."
He then handed Miss Monroe into the vehicle; and ordered the driver to conduct the lady whithersoever she commanded him.
Ellen desired to be taken home to Markham Place; the Italian raised his hat respectfully; and the cab drove rapidly away towards London.
Miss Monroe now began to reflect profoundly upon the nature of the excuse which she should offer to her father and Richard Markham, to account for her prolonged absence. We have before said that she had ceased to shrink from a falsehood; and she had certain cogent reasons for never associating her own name with that of Greenwood;—much less would she acquaint her father or Richard with an outrage which would only induce them to adopt means to punish its perpetrator, and thus bring them in collision with him.
At length she resolved upon stating that she had been taken ill at a concert where she had been engaged for the evening: this course would be comprehended by Markham, who would only have to substitute the word "theatre" for "concert" in his own imagination; and it would also satisfy her father.
We need merely add to this episode in our eventful history, that Ellen reached home safely at four o'clock in the morning, and that the excuse was satisfactory to both Markham and her father, who were anxiously awaiting her return.
CHAPTER XCIII.
NEWS FROM CASTELCICALA.
RETURN we once more to Diana Arlington, who still occupied the splendid mansion in Dover Street, which had been fitted up for her by the Earl of Warrington.
The routine of the life of the Enchantress continued the same as we have described it in Chapter LI.
The Earl of Warrington was unremitting in his attention, and unchanged in his liberality towards his beautiful mistress; and, on her part, Diana was the faithful friend and true companion who by her correct conduct maintained the confidence which she had inspired in the heart of her noble protector.
We must again introduce our readers to the Enchantress at the hour of breakfast, and in the little parlour where we have before seen her.
But on this occasion, instead of being occupied with the perusal of the Morning Herald, her entire attention was absorbed in the contents of a letter, which ran as follows:—
"Montoni, December 3, 1839.
"I sit down, my dearest Diana, to inform you that the ceremony of my union with his Serene Highness Angelo III. was solemnized yesterday.
"You are aware that this ceremony was to have taken place some months ago; but the intrigues of certain persons holding high and influential offices in the state, delayed it. Calumny after calumny against me was whispered in the ears of the Grand Duke; and, although his Highness believed not a word of those evil reports, I steadily refused to accept the honour he was anxious to confer upon me, until he had satisfied himself of the falsity of each successive calumny. At length I implored his Highness to address an autograph letter to the Earl of Warrington, with whom his Highness was acquainted during the residence of that good English nobleman in Castelcicala. His Highness complied with my request, and despatched his letter so privately that none of those who surround him suspected his proceeding. The Earl of Warrington, as you know, dearest Diana, hastened to reply. His answer was so satisfactory, so frank, so generous, so candid, that the Duke declared he would visit with his severest displeasure any one who dared breathe a word of calumny against me or my friends in England, in future.
"The next step adopted by his Serene Highness was to dismiss the Marquis of Gerrano from the office of Minister of Foreign Affairs. Baron Ruperto, the Under Secretary in that Department, retired with his superior. The Duke adopted this measure in consequence of the intrigues of those noblemen to thwart his Highness's intentions of raising to the ducal throne the woman whom he loved. You may suppose how grieved—how vexed—how distressed I have been through the conviction that I myself was the cause of these heart-burnings, jealousies, and intrigues; and although I was innocently the source of such disagreeable proceedings, my sorrow and annoyance were but little mitigated by this impression. I implored the Grand Duke to allow me to leave the country, and retire to Switzerland; but his Serene Highness remained firm, and assured me that, although he had many difficulties to overcome, he was not disheartened. Then he declared that his entire happiness was centred in me; and he thus over-ruled my scruples.
"At length the duke remodelled his cabinet (a fact to which I alluded above) by appointing the Count of Friuli (who is deeply attached to His Highness, and favourable to our union) to the Foreign Office, in place of the Marquis of Gerrano. Signor Pisani, another faithful dependant of His Highness, was appointed Under-Secretary in the place of Baron Ruperto. The Minister of War also retired, and was succeeded by General Grachia. When these changes were effected, his Serene Highness communicated to the council of ministers his intention to unite himself to Eliza Marchioness of Ziani on the 2d of December of the present year.
"This decision was made known on the 19th of last month. I did not write to communicate the important fact to you, because I was apprehensive of new delays; and as I had already misled you once (though unintentionally on my part) I was unwilling to deceive either you or myself a second time. I know your friendship for me, Diana,—I know that you entertain a sister's love for me, the same that I feel for you,—and I also know that you anxiously watch the progress of my fortunes, as, under similar circumstances, I should yours. I therefore resolved to acquaint you with no more of my hopes, until they should have been realised. That result has now been attained; and I need preserve a cold silence no longer.
"In the evening of the 19th of November, the Grand Chancellor of Castelcicala, the President of the Council (the Marquis of Vincenza), and the Archbishop of Montoni, visited me at the villa to acquaint me with the royal decision. I endeavoured—and I hope succeeded—to convince their lordships of the profound sense which I entertained of the high honour intended to be conferred upon me, and my conviction that no merit which I possessed could render me worthy of such distinction; at the same time I declared my readiness to accept that honour, since it was the will and pleasure of a sovereign Prince to bestow it upon me.
"I can scarcely tell you the nature of the varied emotions and feelings which filled—indeed agitated—my bosom when the memorable morning dawned. That was yesterday! I awoke at an early—a very early hour,—before six, and walked in the garden with the hope that the fresh air and the charming tranquillity of the scene would compose me. I could scarcely believe that I was on the point of entering upon such high destinies; that a diadem was so soon to encircle my brow; that the thrilling words Highness and Princess would in a few hours be addressed to me! I could not reconcile with my former obscure lot the idea that I was shortly to sit upon a sovereign throne,—command the allegiance of millions of human beings,—and share the fortunes of a potentate of Europe! Was it possible that I—I who was the daughter of a poor farmer, and who had seen so much of the vicissitudes of life,—I who had thought myself happy with the competence which I enjoyed through the Earl of Warrington's bounty at Clapton,—I who conceived myself to be one of the most fortunate of individuals when, by the goodness of that same excellent peer, I arrived in this State, and took possession of the villa which he had placed at my disposal,—I who had then no more elevated aspirations than to dwell in tranquillity and peace—no loftier hope than to deserve that kind nobleman's benefits by my conduct,—was it possible that I was in a few hours to become the Grand Duchess of Castelcicala? I could not fix my mind to such a belief; the idea seemed an oriental fiction—a romantic dream. And yet, I remembered, I had already received an earnest of this splendid promise of fortune: I had already been elevated from a lowly condition to an exalted rank; the distinction of a Marchioness was mine; for months had I been accustomed to the sounding title of Your Ladyship and for months had I been enrolled amongst the peeresses of Castelcicala. Yes—I thought: it was true,—true that a Prince—a powerful Prince—intended to raise me to a seat upon his own ducal throne!
"At seven precisely the three lovely daughters of General Grachia arrived at the villa to assist me in my toilette—my nuptial toilette. They informed me that, if it were my pleasure, they were to remain in attendance upon me after my marriage. I embraced them tenderly, and assured them that they should always be near me as friends. When the toilette was completed, I bade adieu to the villa. I wept—wept tears of mingled joy and sorrow as I said farewell to that abode when I had passed so many happy, happy hours! At length I entered General Grachia's carriage, which was waiting; and, accompanied by my three amiable friends, repaired to their father's private dwelling (not his official palace of the War Department) in Montoni.
"Here my letter must terminate. Enclosed is an account of the entire ceremony, translated into English by my private secretary (who is well acquainted with my native tongue) from the Montoni Gazette. Fain would I have erased those passages which are favourable—too favourable to myself; but I fancied that my friend—my sister Diana would be pleased to read the narrative in its integrity.
"In conclusion, let me say—and do you believe it as devoutly as I say it sincerely—that, in spite of my rank and fortunes,—in spite of the splendours that surround me, to you I am in heart, and always shall remain, the same attached and grateful being, whom you have known as
"ELIZA SYDNEY."
It would be impossible to describe the feelings of delight with which Mrs. Arlington perused the latter portion of this letter. Pass we on, therefore, to the Bridal Ceremony, as it was described in the translated narrative which accompanied the communication of the Grand Duchess:—
"THE MARRIAGE OF THE GRAND DUKE.
"Yesterday morning were celebrated the nuptials of his Serene Highness Angelo III. and Eliza Marchioness of Ziani.
"From an early hour the capital wore an appearance of unusual gaiety and bustle. The houses looking on the Piazzetta of Contarini, leading to the ancient Cathedral of Saint Theodosia, were decorated in a most splendid manner with banners, garlands, festoons of flowers, and various ornaments and devices appropriate to the occasion. The balconies were fitted up as verdant bowers and arbours, and the lovely characteristics of the country were thus introduced into the very heart of the city. The Town-Hall was hung with numerous banners; and the royal standard waved proudly over the Black Tower of the Citadel. The shops in those streets through which the procession was to pass were fitted up with seats which were let to those who were willing to pay the high prices demanded for them. In other parts of the city the shops and marts of trade were all closed, as was the Exchange. A holiday was observed at the Bank of Castelcicala; and the business of the General Post Office closed at eleven o'clock in the forenoon. Nor was the port less gay than the city. All the vessels in the harbour and docks, as well at those in the roadstead, were decked with innumerable flags. The royal standard floated from the main of the ships of war of the Castelcicalan navy. The sight was altogether most imposing and lively.
"At seven o'clock the bells of Saint Theodosia and all the other churches in Montoni rang out merry peals; and the troops of the garrison got under arms. At a quarter before eight the Mayor and Corporation of the city, arrayed in their robes of green velvet edged with gold, proceeded to the palace and presented an address of congratulation on the auspicious day, to his Serene Highness, who was pleased to return a most gracious answer. It being generally understood that the Marchioness of Ziani would in the first instance alight at the dwelling of General Grachia, the Minister of War, a crowd of highly respectable and well-dressed persons had collected in that neighbourhood. At nine o'clock the General's private carriage, which had been sent to convey the future Grand Duchess from her own abode to the General's mansion, drove rapidly up the street, attended by two outriders. We shall never forget the enthusiasm manifested by the assembled multitude upon that occasion. All political feelings appeared to be forgotten; and a loud, hearty, and prolonged burst of welcome met the ear. The object of this ebullition of generous feeling bowed gracefully to the crowds on either side; and the cheering continued for some moments after the carriage had entered the court-yard of the General's mansion.
"At half-past ten o'clock the President of the Council, the Grand Chancellor, and the Intendant of the Ducal Civil List arrived in their carriages at General Grachia's abode, preceded by one of the royal equipages, which was sent to convey the bride and her ladies-in-waiting to the palace. In a few minutes the President of the Council handed the bride, who was attended by the lady and three lovely daughters of General Grachia, into the ducal carriage. The procession then repaired to the palace, the crowds that lined the streets and occupied the windows and balconies by which it passed, expressing their feelings by cheers and the waving of handkerchiefs. To these demonstrations the bride responded by graceful bows, bestowed in a manner so modest and yet evidently sincere, that the conduct of this exalted lady upon the occasion won all hearts.
"The procession entered the palace-square; and the Grand Duke, attended by the great officers of state and a brilliant staff, received his intended bride at the foot of the great marble staircase of the western pavilion. The illustrious company then entered the palace. Immediately afterwards the five regiments of household troops, commanded by that noble veteran the Marshal Count of Galeazzo, marched into the square, and formed into three lines along the western side of the palace. At half-past eleven the royal party appeared at the foot of the marble staircase, and entered the numerous carriages in waiting. The bride occupied the carriage which had conveyed her to the palace, and was accompanied by the ladies in attendance upon her. His Serene Highness, attended by the President of the Council and the Grand Chancellor, entered the state carriage. The procession then moved onwards to the Cathedral of Saint Theodosia.
"This was the signal for the roar of artillery from all points. The citadel, and the ships of war in the roadstead thundered forth the announcement that his Serene Highness had just left the palace. The bells rang blithely from every steeple; the troops presented arms, the military bands played the national hymn; and the procession was welcomed with joyous shouts, the waving of handkerchiefs, and the smiles of beauty. The windows and balconies of the houses overlooking the streets through which it passed, were crowded with elegantly dressed ladies, brilliant with their own beauty, gay with waving plumes, and sparkling with diamonds. The only indication of political feeling which we observed upon the occasion, was on the part of the troops; and they were silent.
"The bride was naturally the centre of all interest and attraction. Every one was anxious to catch a glimpse of her charming countenance. And certainly this lovely lady never could have appeared more lovely than on the present occasion. She was attired in a dress of the most costly point-lace over white satin. Her veil was of the first-mentioned material, and of the richest description. She was somewhat pale; but a charming serenity was depicted upon her countenance. She bowed frequently, and in the most unpretending and affable manner, as the procession moved along.
"At length the cavalcade reached the cathedral, where the Archbishop of Montoni, assisted by the Bishops of Trevisano and Collato, was in attendance to perform the solemn ceremony. The sacred edifice was thronged by the élite and fashion of the capital, who had been admitted by tickets. When the royal party had entered the Cathedral, the doors were closed; and the holy ceremony was solemnised. The roar of the artillery was again heard, as the royal party returned to their carriages. This time the Grand Duchess was handed by his Serene Highness into the state carriage. The return to the palace was distinguished by demonstrations of satisfaction on the part of the spectators more enthusiastic, if possible, than those which marked the progress of the cavalcade to the cathedral. A glow of animation was visible upon the countenance of her Serene Highness; and the Grand Duke himself looked remarkably well and cheerful. In a short time the Sovereign conducted his lovely bride into that palace which in future is to be her home.
"Thus ended a ceremony which, in a political point of view, may probably be attended with important results to the interests of Castelcicala. Should male issue proceed from this marriage, the contentions of rival parties in the state will be at once annihilated. The supporters of the Prince of Castelcicala, who is now an exile in England, are naturally indignant and annoyed at the marriage of his Serene Highness Angelo III. with a lady young enough to encourage hopes that the union may not remain unfruitful. It is even evident that many of the former friends of the exiled Prince pronounced in favour of this marriage, the moment it was contemplated some months previously to its solemnization. This sentiment of approval will account for the entrance of General Grachia, who was notorious for his adhesion to the popular cause espoused by the Prince, into the Ministry. Probably the best friends of their country, aware that it was neither natural nor legal to attempt to control the inclinations and affections of his Serene Highness Angelo III., looked upon this marriage as the best means of securing peace and internal tranquillity to Castelcicala, inasmuch as it gives a prospect of an heir to the ducal throne—an heir whose right and title none could dispute. This is the view we ourselves take of the case: and we therefore hail the event as one of a most auspicious nature in our annals."
Scarcely had the Enchantress terminated this narrative of the ceremony which elevated her friend to a ducal throne,—a narrative which she had perused with the liveliest feelings of satisfaction, and the most unadulterated pleasure,—when the Earl of Warrington was announced.
Diana hastened to communicate to him the tidings which she had received; and the nobleman himself read Eliza's letter, and the extract from the Montoni Gazette, with an interest which showed how gratified he felt in the high and exalted fortunes of the daughter of her whom he had once loved so tenderly.
"Yes, indeed," said the earl, when he had terminated the perusal of the two documents, "Eliza Sydney now ranks amongst the queens and reigning princesses of the world: from a humble cottage she has risen to a throne."
"And this exalted station she owes to your lordship's goodness," remarked Diana.
"Say to my justice," observed the earl; "for I may flatter myself that I have behaved with justice to the child of my departed uncle's daughter. And this remarkable exaltation of Eliza Sydney shows us, Diana, that we should never judge of a person's character by one fault. Eliza has always been imbued with sentiments of virtue and integrity, although she was led into one error by that villain Stephens; and she has now met with a reward of a price high almost beyond precedent. But, ah!" exclaimed the earl, who was carelessly turning the letter of the Grand Duchess over and over in his hands as he spoke, "this is very singular—very remarkable;"—and he inspected the seal and post-marks of the letter with minute attention.
"What is the matter?" inquired Diana.
"Some treachery has been perpetrated here," answered the earl, still continuing his scrutiny: "this letter had been opened before it was delivered to you."
"Opened!" cried Diana.
"Yes," said the Earl of Warrington; "here is every proof that the letter has been violated. See—there is the English post-mark of yesterday morning: and over it has been stamped another mark, of this morning's date. Then contemplate the seal. There are two kinds of wax, the one melted over the other: do you not notice a shade different in their colours?"
"Certainly," said Diana: "it is apparent. But who could have done this? Perhaps the Grand Duchess herself; for the ducal arms are imprinted upon the upper layer of wax."
"The persons who opened this letter, Diana," said the earl, in a serious—almost a solemn tone, "are those who know full well how to take the imprint of a seal. But have you not other letters from Castelcicala?"
"Several," replied Diana; and she hastily unlocked her writing-desk, where she produced all the correspondence she had received from Eliza Sydney.
The earl carefully inspected the envelopes of those letters; and his countenance grew more serious as he proceeded with his scrutiny.
"Yes," he exclaimed, after a long pause; "the fact is glaring! Every one of these letters was opened somewhere ere they were delivered to you. The utmost caution has been evidently used in re-sealing and re-stamping them;—nevertheless, there are proofs—undoubted proofs—that the whole of this correspondence has been violated in its transit from the writer to the receiver."
"But what object—what motive——"
"I have long entertained suspicions," said the Earl of Warrington, interrupting his fair mistress, "that there is one public institution in England which is made the scene of proceedings so vile—so detestable—so base as to cast a stain upon the entire nation. Those suspicions are now confirmed."
"What mean you?" inquired Diana: "to which institution do you allude?"
"To the General Post-office," replied the Earl of Warrington.
"The General Post-office!" cried Mrs. Arlington, her countenance expressing the most profound astonishment.
"The General Post-office," repeated the earl. "But this is a matter of so serious a nature that I shall not allow it to rest here. You will lend me these letters for a few hours? I am more intimately acquainted with the Home Secretary than with any other of her Majesty's Ministers; and to him will I now proceed."
The earl consigned the letters to his pocket, and, with an air of deep determination, took a temporary leave of Mrs. Arlington.
Scarcely had the earl left the house, when Mr. Greenwood's valet, Filippo, was introduced.
"I have called, madam," said the Italian, "to inform you that I last night counteracted another of my master's plots, and saved a young female from the persecution of his addresses."
"You have done well, Filippo," exclaimed Mrs. Arlington. "Does your master suspect you?"
"Not in the remotest degree, madam. I contrived matters so well, that he believed the young person alluded to had escaped by her own means, and without any assistance, save that of a pair of sheets which enabled her to descend in safety from the window of the room in which she was confined."
"I am delighted to hear that your mission to England has been so successful, in thwarting the machinations of that bad man," observed Mrs. Arlington. "Have you heard any news from Castelcicala?"
"I have this morning received a Montoni newspaper, announcing the nuptials of the Grand Duke and the Marchioness of Ziani," replied Filippo.
"And I also have heard those happy tidings," said Mrs. Arlington. "But have you any further information to give me relative to the schemes of your master? I am always pleased to learn that his evil designs experience defeat through your agency."
"I have nothing more to say at present, madam," answered Filippo; "except, indeed," he added, suddenly recollecting himself, "that I overheard, a few days ago, a warm contention between my master and a certain Sir Rupert Harborough."
"Sir Rupert Harborough!" ejaculated Diana, a blush suddenly overspreading her cheeks.
"Yes, madam. From what I could learn, there was a balance of about a thousand pounds due from Sir Rupert Harborough to Mr. Greenwood, on a bill that purported to be the acceptance of Lord Tremordyn, but which was in reality a forgery committed by Sir Rupert himself."
"A forgery!" cried Diana.
"A forgery, madam. Sir Rupert bitterly reproached Mr. Greenwood with having suggested to him that mode of raising money, whereas Mr. Greenwood appeared to deny with indignation any share in the part of the transaction imputed to him. The matter ended by Mr. Greenwood declaring that if the bill were not paid to-morrow, when it falls due (having, it appears, been renewed several times), Sir Rupert Harborough should be prosecuted for forgery."
"And what said Sir Rupert Harborough to that?" inquired Diana.
"He changed his tone, and began to implore the mercy of Mr. Greenwood: but my master was inexorable; and Sir Rupert left the house with ruin and terror depicted upon his countenance."
"This battle you must allow them to fight out between themselves," said Diana, after a moment's hesitation. "I know Sir Rupert Harborough—know him full well; but I do not think that he is so thoroughly black-hearted as your master. He was once kind to me—once," she added, musing to herself rather than addressing the Italian valet: then, suddenly recollecting herself, she said, "However, Filippo—that affair does not regard you."
"Very good, madam," replied the valet; and he then took his departure.
The moment he was gone, Mrs. Arlington threw herself into her comfortable arm-chair, and became wrapt up in deep thought.
CHAPTER XCIV.
THE HOME OFFICE.
IN a well furnished room, on the first-floor of the Home Office, sate the Secretary of State for that Department.
The room was spacious and lofty. The walls were hung with the portraits of several eminent statesmen who had, at different times, presided over the internal policy of the country. A round table stood in the middle of the apartment; and at this table, which groaned beneath a mass of papers, was seated the Minister.
At the feet of this functionary was a wicker basket, into which he threw the greater portion of the letters addressed to him, and over each of which he cast a glance of such rapidity that he must either have been a wonderfully clever man to acquire a notion of the contents of those documents by means of so superficial a survey, or else a very neglectful one to pay so little attention to affairs which were associated with important individual interests or which related to matters of national concern.
The time-piece upon the mantel struck twelve, when a low knock at the door of the apartment elicited from the Minister an invitation to enter.
A tall, thin, middle-aged, sallow-faced person, dressed in black, glided noiselessly into the room, bowed obsequiously to the Minister, and took his seat at the round table.
This was the Minister's private secretary.
The secretary immediately mended a pen, arranged his blotting-paper in a business-like fashion before him, spread out his foolscap writing paper, and then glanced towards his master, at much as to say, "I am ready."
"Take that pile of correspondence, if you please," said the Minister, "and run your eye over each letter."
"Yes, my lord," said the Secretary; and he glanced cursorily over the letters alluded to, one after the other, briefly mentioning their respective objects as he proceeded. "This letter, my lord, is from the chaplain of Newgate. It sets forth that there is a man of the name of William Lees at present under sentence of death in that prison; that William Lees, in a fit of unbridled passion, which bordered upon insanity, murdered his wife; that the conduct of the deceased was sufficient to provoke the most temperate individual to a similar deed; that he had no interest in killing her; and that he committed the crime in a moment over which he had no control."
"Do you remember anything of the case?" demanded the Home Secretary. "For my part, I have no time to read trials."
"Yes, my lord," replied the Secretary. "This William Lees is a barber; and his wife was of vile and most intemperate habits. He murdered her in a fit of exasperation caused by the discovery that she had pledged every thing moveable in the house, to obtain the means of buying drink."
"Oh! a barber—eh?" said the Home Secretary, yawning.
"Yes, my lord. Your lordship will remember that young Medhurst, who assassinated a school-fellow in a fit of passion, was only condemned to three years' imprisonment."
"Ah! but that was quite a different thing," exclaimed the Minister. "Medhurst was a gentleman; but this man is only a barber."
"True, my lord—very true," said the Secretary. "I had quite forgotten that."
"Make a memorandum, that the law in the case of William Lees must take its course."
"Yes, my lord;"—and the Secretary, having endorsed the note upon the letter, referred to another document. "This, my lord, is a petition from a political prisoner confined in a county gaol, and who sets forth that he is compelled to wear the prison dress, associate with felons of the blackest character, and eat the prison allowance. He humbly submits—"
"He may submit till he is tired," interrupted the Minister. "Make a memorandum to answer the petition to the effect that her Majesty's Secretary of State for the Home Department does not see any ground for interfering in the matter."
"Very good, my lord. This letter it from a pauper in the—— Union, stating that he has been cruelly assaulted, beaten, and ill-used by the master; that he has applied in vain to the Poor Law Commissioners for redress; and that he now ventures to submit his case to your lordship."
"Make a note to answer that the fullest inquiries shall be immediately instituted," said the Minister.
"Shall I give the necessary instructions for the inquiry, my lord?" asked the Secretary.
"Inquiry!" repeated the Minister: "are you mad? Do you really imagine that I shall be foolish enough to permit any inquiry at all? Such a step would be almost certain to end in substantiating the pauper's charge against the master; and then there would be a clamour from one end of the country to the other against the New Poor Laws. We must smother all such affairs whenever we can; but by writing to say that the fullest inquiries shall be instituted, I shall be armed with a reply to any member who might happen to bring the case before Parliament. My answer to the charge would then be that her Majesty's Government had instituted a full inquiry into the matter, and had ascertained that the pauper was a quarrelsome, obstreperous, and disorderly person, who was not to be believed upon his oath."
"True, my lord," said the Secretary, evidently struck by this display of ministerial wisdom. "The next letter, my lord, is from a clerk in the Tax Office, Somerset House. He complains that his income is too small, and that the Commissioners of Taxes refuse to augment it. He states in pretty plain terms, that unless he receives an augmentation, he shall not hesitate to publish the fact, that the Dividend Books of the Bank of England are removed to the Tax-Office every six months, in order that an account of every fundholder's stock in the government securities may be taken for the information of the Treasury and the Tax Commissioners: he adds that such an announcement would convulse the whole nation with alarm at the awful state of espionnage under which the people exist; and he states these grounds as a reason for purchasing his silence by means of an increase of salary."
"This is serious—very serious," said the Minister: "but the letter should have been addressed to the Chancellor of the Exchequer. You must enclose it to my colleague."
"Yes, my lord," replied the Secretary.
At this moment a gentle knock was heard at the door of the apartment.
The Secretary hastened to respond to the summons, and admitted two persons dressed in plain but decent attire. One was a short, stout, red-faced, consequential-looking man: the other was a tall, raw-boned, ungainly person, and seemed quite confounded at the presence in which he found himself.
The former of these individuals was an inspector of police: the latter was a common police-officer. Indeed, the reader has been already introduced to them, in the fourteenth chapter of this narrative.
Having ushered these individuals into the room, the private secretary hastened to breathe a few words in an under tone to the ear of his master.
"Oh! these are the men, are they?" said the Minister aloud.
"Yes, my lord," replied the Secretary; then, addressing the police-officers, he exclaimed. "Step forward, my men—step forward. There—that's right: now sit down at that side of the table, and let the one who can write best make notes of the instructions that will be immediately given to you."
Both the Minister and Secretary were cautious enough not to give those instructions in their own handwriting.
The men sate down, as they were desired; and the inspector whispered to his companion an order to assume the duties of amanuensis on the occasion.
"You are aware, my good fellows," said the Minister, "that there is to be a great political meeting to-morrow evening somewhere in Bethnal Green?"
"Yes, my lord," replied the inspector.
"It is necessary to the purposes of her Majesty's Government," continued the Minister, "that discredit should be thrown upon all political meetings when very liberal sentiments are enunciated."
"Yes, my lord," said the inspector. "Shall Crisp put that down, my lord?"
"There is no necessity to make a note of my observations, only of my instructions," answered the Minister, with a smile. "The best method of throwing discredit upon those meetings is to create a disturbance. You, Mr. Inspector, will therefore take care and have at least a dozen of your men in plain clothes at the assembly to-morrow evening."
"Yes, my lord. Put that down, Crisp."
"You will direct your men, Mr. Inspector, to applaud most vehemently all the inflammatory parts of the speeches made upon the occasion."
"Yes, my lord. Put that down, Crisp."
"You will contrive that Mr. Crisp, whom my secretary states to be a proper man for the purpose, shall himself make a speech to-morrow evening."
"Yes, my lord. Put that down, Crisp."
"This speech must be of the most violent and inflammatory kind: it must advocate the use of physical force, denounce the aristocracy, the government, and the parliament in the most blood-thirsty terms; it need not even spare her most gracious Majesty. Let the cry be Blood; and let your men, Mr. Inspector, applaud with deafening shouts, every period in this incendiary harangue."
"Yes, my lord. Put that down, Crisp."
"The well-disposed portion of the audience will remonstrate. Your men in plain clothes can thus readily pick a quarrel; and a quarrel may be easily made to lead to blows. Then let a posse of constables in uniform rush in, and lay about them with their bludgeons most unsparingly. The more broken heads and limbs, the better. Be sure to have some of the audience taken into custody; and on the following morning, appear against them before the police-magistrate."
"Yes, my lord. Put that down, Crisp."
"You will take especial care to denounce the individuals so captured, as the ringleaders of the riot, and the ones who made themselves most conspicuous in applauding the inflammatory speeches uttered on the occasion—especially those which advocated rebellion, bloodshed, and death to monarchy and aristocracy."
"Yes, my lord. Put that down, Crisp."
"If the magistrate asks you—as he will be certain to do," continued the Minister, "whether you are acquainted with the prisoners at the bar, you can say that they are well known to the police as most dangerous and disorderly characters."
"Yes, my lord. Put that down, Crisp."
"You see," said the Minister, turning towards his own private secretary, "it is ten to one that the individuals so arrested will be respectable tradesmen; and as they will thus obtain a taste of the treadmill (for we must send our private instructions to the magistrates at Lambeth Street, to that effect) the warning will be a most salutary one throughout the whole district—especially at a moment when the Spitalfields weavers are reduced to desperation by their dreadfully distressed condition."
"Of course, my lord," replied the Secretary. "Such a proceeding will sicken men of political meetings. Has your lordship any farther instructions for these officers?"
"None," said the Minister. "I may, however, add, that if they acquit themselves well in this respect, the inspector shall become a superintendent, and the constable a serjeant."
"Thank your lordship," exclaimed the inspector. "You may put that down, too, Crisp—and express your gratitude to his lordship for his kindness."
Mr. Crisp acted in all respects as he was desired; and having each made an awkward bow, the two officers retired.
"Now proceed with the correspondence," said the Minister.
"Yes, my lord," replied the Secretary. "Here is a letter from the mayor of ——, stating that the experiment of making the prisoners, tried and untried, who are confined in the gaol of that town, wear black masks whenever they are compelled to mingle together, works well. The mayor moreover states, that out of two hundred prisoners subjected to the solitary system, since the introduction of the plan into the gaol, only nineteen have gone mad, and of those only three have died raving. He therefore recommends the solitary system. He adds that all personal identity is now destroyed in the prison, and prisoners are known by numbers instead of by their names. He concludes by inquiring whether these regulations shall continue in force?"
"Most assuredly," answered the Minister. "Make a note that a reply is to be sent to that effect. I am glad the system of solitary confinement, black cloth masks, and numbers instead of names, works well. I shall gradually apply it to every criminal prison in England. At the same time, I must endeavour to throw the odium of the introduction of that system upon the justices in quarter sessions assembled—in case I should be assailed on the subject in the House."
"Certainly, my lord. This letter is from the secret agent, sent down to Manchester to inquire into the constitution and principles of the Independent Order of Rechabites. He obtained admission into a lodge, and was regularly initiated a member of the Brotherhood. He finds that the Rechabites are about eighty thousand in number, having lodges in all the great cities and towns of England, with the head-quarters at Manchester. The Order is not political; but is formed of sections of the Teetotal Societies. The government need not entertain any fears of this combination. The agent sends up a detailed account of the secrets and signs connected with the Order, accompanied by a copy of the rules and regulations."
"These Teetotalers must not be encouraged. They are seriously injuring the Excise-revenues. Proceed."
"This letter, my lord, is from the principal agent sent down into the mining districts, to encourage a spirit of discontent amongst the pitmen. He says that he has no doubt of being enabled to produce a disturbance in the north, and thus afford your lordship the wished-for opportunity of sending more troops in that direction. When once over-awed by the presence of a formidable number of bayonets, the pitmen will be compelled to submit to the terms dictated by the coal-mine proprietors; and your lordship's aims will be thus accomplished."
"I am glad of that. The coal-mine proprietors are rich and influential men, whom it is necessary to conciliate," said the Minister. "What next?"
"Here is a letter, my lord," continued the Secretary, "from Sir Joseph Gosborne, stating that his daughter, Miss Gosborne, was taken into custody yesterday morning on an accusation of stealing a jar of anchovies from an oilman's shop. The magistrate refused to take bail, and remanded the young lady until next Monday. Sir Joseph is anxious that his daughter should be admitted to bail, because, in that case, should he fail to settle with the prosecutor, he can keep his daughter out of the way when the day of trial arrives, and pay the money for the estreated recognizances. He is moreover desirous that the case should be sent to the Sessions, because, if by any accident the matter should go to trial, a verdict of acquittal is certain at the hands of a Clerkenwell jury, but by no means sure with an Old Bailey one."
"Make a memorandum to write to the magistrate who will hear the case next Monday, to take bail—moderate bail, mind—and to refer the matter to the Sessions. We must not refuse to oblige Sir Joseph Gosborne."
While the private secretary was still writing, a servant entered and informed the Minister that Mr. Teynham was waiting, and solicited an audience.
"Ah! the new magistrate at Marlborough Street," exclaimed the Home Secretary. "Show him in."
Mr. Teynham, a middle-aged gentleman attired in black, was introduced accordingly. He bowed very low to the Minister, and, when desired to take a chair, obsequiously seated himself upon the very edge.
"I have recommended you to Her Majesty, Mr. Teynham," said the Minister, "as a fit and proper person to fill the situation of police-magistrate and justice of the peace at the Marlborough Street Court; and her Majesty has been most graciously pleased to confirm the appointment."
Mr. Teynham bowed very low, and became entangled in a labyrinth of acknowledgments, with which "deep gratitude"—"sense of duty"—"impartial distribution of justice," and such like phrases were blended.
"It is necessary," said the Minister, after a pause, "that I should give you a few instructions with respect to the functions upon which you are about to enter. You are aware, Mr. Teynham, that the young gentlemen of the aristocracy are occasionally addicted to wrenching off knockers, pulling down bells, and other innocent little pranks of a similar nature. These are delicate cases to deal with, Mr. Teynham; but I need scarcely inform you that the treadmill is not for the aristocracy."
"I understand, my lord. A trifling fine, with a reprimand—and a little wholesome advice—"
"Precisely, Mr. Teynham—precisely!" cried the Minister: "I see that you understand your business well. The nice discrimination which you possess will always teach you whether you have a gentleman to deal with, or not. If a low person choose to divert himself with aristocratic amusements, punish him—do not spare him—send him to the treadmill. In the same way that game is preserved for the sport of the upper classes, so must the knockers and the bells be saved from spoliation by the lower orders."
"I fully comprehend your lordship," said the newly-made magistrate. "I should like, however, to know your lordship's sentiments in one respect."
"Speak, Mr. Teynham," said the Minister, with the most condescending affability, or the most affable condescension—whichever the reader likes best.
"Suppose, my lord, that a young nobleman or well-born gentleman wrenches off a knocker, and throws it into the street; then suppose, my lord, that a poor man, passing by, picks up the knocker and carries it off to a marine-store dealer's to sell it for old iron, in order to procure his family a meal; and then if your lordship will be kind enough to suppose that both those persons are brought up before me—the nobleman for wrenching off the knocker and throwing it away, and the poor man for picking it up and selling it,—how am I to act in such a case?"
"Very ingenious—very ingenious, indeed, Mr. Teynham," said the Minister: "you will make an excellent magistrate! Your course in the case propounded is clear; the nobleman is fined five shillings for being drunk and disorderly—because all noblemen and gentlemen who wrench off knockers are drunk and disorderly; and the poor man must be committed to the House of Correction for three months. Nothing is plainer, Mr. Teynham."
"Nothing, my lord. Has your lordship any farther instructions?"
"Oh! decidedly," returned the Minister. "When any individual connected with a noble or influential family gets into a scrape, and is brought before you, hear the case in private, and exclude the reporters. Again, never commit such a person for trial, unless you are absolutely compelled. Let him go upon bail: it will be ten to one if you are ever troubled any more with the case. There is another point to which I must direct your attention. The practice of shoplifting among ladies has increased lately to a fearful degree. But, after all, it is only a little eccentricity—indeed one might almost call it an amiable weakness. The fact is, that many ladies will go into a shop, purchase a hundred-guinea shawl, and secrete an eighteen-penny pair of gloves. Prudent husbands and fathers avert the tradesman, with whom their wives and daughters deal, beforehand; and these trifling abstractions are duly entered in the running accounts; but now and then a lady does get taken up. In such a case you must show her every possible distinction. Order her a chair in the dock: and before the business comes on, permit her to remain with her friends in the 'magistrates' private room.' Then, if the prosecutor hesitates in giving his evidence, fly into a passion, tell him that he is prevaricating and not worthy to be believed upon his oath, and indignantly dismiss the case. The accused lady can then step into her carriage, and drive off comfortably home."
"Your lordship's instructions shall be complied with to the very letter," said Mr. Teynham.
"In a word," continued the Minister, "you must always shield the upper classes as much as possible; and in order to veil their little peccadilloes, bring out the misdeeds of the lower orders in the boldest relief. This is the only way to support the doctrine that the poor must be governed by the rich. Whenever young boys or girls appear as witnesses, ask them if they know the value of an oath; and if they reply in the negative, expatiate upon the frightful immorality prevalent among the poorer classes, so that the reporters may record your observations. This does good—and enables the Bishops to make long speeches in the House of Lords on the necessity of religious instruction, and the want of more churches. If you attend to these remarks of mine, Mr. Teynham, you will make an excellent magistrate."
"Your lordship may rely upon me," was the submissive answer.
"There is one more point—I had almost forgotten it," said the Home Secretary. "You must invariably take the part of the police. Remember that the oath of one police-officer is worth the oaths of a dozen defendants. This only applies to the collision of the police with the lower orders, mind. As a general rule, remember that the police are always in the right when the poor are concerned, and always in the wrong when the rich are brought before you. And now, Mr. Teynham, I have nothing more to say."
The newly-made magistrate rose, bowed several times, and withdrew, walking obsequiously upon the points of his toes for fear his boots should creak in the awful presence of the Home Secretary.
But if "his worship" were thus meek and lowly before his patron, he afterwards avenged himself for that constraint, when seated in the magisterial chair, upon the poor devils that appeared before him!
The private secretary was about to proceed with the correspondence addressed from different quarters to the Minister, when a servant entered the room, and placed a card upon the table before this great officer of state.
"The Earl of Warrington?" said the Minister. "I will receive him."
The servant withdrew, and the private secretary retired to an inner apartment.
In a few moments the Earl of Warrington was announced.
When the usual civilities had been exchanged between the two noblemen, the Earl of Warrington said, "I have called, my lord, upon a matter which, I hope from the knowledge I have of your lordship's character, will be considered by you as one of importance to the whole nation."
"The estimate your lordship forms of any business can be no mean guide to my own opinion," answered the Minister.
"I am not quite aware whether I am acting in accordance with official etiquette, to bring the matter alluded to under the notice of your lordship, or whether it would have been more regular in me to have addressed myself direct to the Postmaster-General or the Prime Minister; but as I have the honour of being better acquainted with your lordship than with any of your colleagues in the administration, I made up my mind to come hither."
"I shall be most happy to serve your lordship in any way in my power," said the Minister.
"Then I shall at once come to the point," continued the Earl of Warrington. "A friend of mine—a lady who resides in London—has corresponded for some months past with a lady living in the state of Castelcicala; and there is every reason to believe that the letters addressed to my friend in London, have been opened during the transit."
"Indeed," said the Minister, not a muscle of whose countenance moved as he heard this communication. "May I ask what is the nature of the proofs that such is the fact?"
"I believe," returned the Earl of Warrington, "that the letters have been opened at the English Post-office."
"The English Post-office!" ejaculated the Minister, with an air of great surprise—whether real or affected, we must leave our readers to determine.
"Yes, my lord—the English Post-office," said the Earl of Warrington, firmly. "The proofs are these;"—and, extracting the letters from his pocket, he pointed out to the Minister the same appearances which he had ere now explained to Mrs. Arlington.
"On this last letter," said the Minister, "I perceive the ducal arms of Castelcicala."
"The present Grand Duchess of that state is the correspondent of Mrs. Arlington, to whom, your lordship may perceive, these letters are addressed."