touching upon pecuniary matters, a darker cloud than usual deepened the gloom of his features, and he said, with evident pain and restraint,—“There is one thing I wish to guard you against—some people that you must avoid; they are always moving about on the continent, and you might fall in with them anywhere—the Wellwoods, I mean. There is an inextinguishable feud between our family and theirs. Avoid them, as you wish to escape my curse and your own ruin.” How little judgment elderly people evince in dealing with youth!
I answered, “Very well;” but immediately the image of the pretty little Clara, the object of my boyish passion, arose vividly before me; and I resolved, if I fell in with the family, to seek their acquaintance without delay. As for my father’s threat, I inwardly smiled at it. He could not ruin me, for the estate was entailed: and for his curse I did not care sixpence, having no superstitious feelings on the subject to alarm me, and no affection to be pained.
“No, no,” said I to myself; “here are the very people I should like to know, and in every place we go to, I’ll enquire for them.”
While I was making this resolution, my father, who had uttered the last words with a voice choked by agitation, shook hands with me, and left the room, his cheek still pale, and his hand so unsteady that he could not turn the handle of the door. I advanced to help him, and he left the room without opening his lips again, or even raising his eyes to my face.
I am afraid—for this is a confession as well as a warning—I am afraid my only feeling was, that I was glad he was gone, and a hope that I had seen the last of him, which did not seem improbable, as he had aged very fast within my memory, and was much shrunk in size, and even apparently in height.
As I have said before, I had no particularly vicious propensities. I had no taste for excesses of any sort; I neither gambled nor drank, nor even kept late hours, so that my tutor and I got on very well together; for when he saw that I did not require his supervision, he took to his own pursuits, which were altogether literary, and left me to go my own way. One thing, I, however, observed, which was, that he was curious to know the names of any new acquaintance I made, especially if they were English; and I suspected that he had had a hint from my father about the Wellwoods, whom, though not in his hearing, I never failed to enquire for at every place we came to, but without success.
I spent two years in this way agreeably enough; and I believe I was not a little improved, both by travel, and by the companionship of Mr. Westland, who, as he never interfered with me, I really liked. I even did not disdain to benefit by his learning and accomplishments, for I had no distaste to literature, now that I was free to do as I liked; and we occasionally read together. He, doubtless soon observed my objections to him in the character of tutor, and that my toleration of his presence depended on his sinking that character altogether; so that, as he wished to avoid a dismissal, he never even asked me to read, but always waited till the proposition came from myself. He was a judicious man: if he had taken the other tack, we should not have continued together six weeks. As it was, he remained with me the whole two years; and at the end of that period, I presented him with a hundred pounds over and above the salary my father had agreed to give him, and we parted in Paris the best friends in the world.
CHAPTER IV.
As I intended to make some stay in the capital, I took a small appartement au second on the Boulevard, not far from where the Madeleine now stands. I had picked up several acquaintances while on my tour, and these, with some of my old friends from St. Omer, gave me society enough, which was fortunate; for, be it remembered, I had not a single hereditary friend or acquaintance, male or female; and I had passed three months very pleasantly, when I was awakened one night by a loud ringing at the porte cochère, and a noise of heavy wheels in the court below, into which my windows looked. Then there arose a great uproar; voices in loud contention, each trying to outscream the other. There was evidently a quarrel; and I learnt from my servant the next morning that a famille Hongroise had arrived, and that part of their baggage was missing; and that while they accused the valet of neglect in not looking after it, he accused the courier of stealing it, at which the latter was furious. A violent quarrel ensued betwixt them, and, the gates being open, the gensdarmes, hearing the row, had come into the court, and carried them both off to the police office. This much, Benoit, who had been disturbed by the noise as well as myself, had learnt from the concièrge. I afterwards heard, from the same authority, that the missing object was a casket containing objects of value, and that the two servants having promised to keep the peace were set at liberty, and Monsieur de Vilvorde, who suspected neither, had taken them both back.
“Ma foi, monsieur,” said Benoit, “il me semble que ce courier là a mauvaise mine. Je ne me fierais pas à lui—c’est un Italien.”
“Vous croyez donc qu’il a volé la cassette?”
“Je ne dis pas ça, monsieur; mais il a l’air sournois, et à ce que je crois, il ne voit pas ce valet, qui l’a accusé, de bon œil.”
The word sournois struck me, and I felt a curiosity to see the man. I remembered that they used to call me sournois at St. Omer; and at Mr. Carter’s I went by the name of “Sulky;” I must therefore, no doubt, have merited the appellation; but the different sort of life I had been leading for some time, I flattered myself, had cured me of this fault. I was an independent individual, moving from place to place, having no particular interest in any one, and coming into collision with no one. There were no jealousies, no rivalries, no little offences, such as domestic life, contending interests, and daily intercourse are apt to engender.
As I was very little at my lodgings—for I took all my meals abroad, and seldom came home but to dress and sleep—I never happened to see this man, nor, indeed, any member of the family who occupied the first floor; but about six weeks after-