some account of the abhorrence I expressed
at the plans and purposes I heard."
"I see no way by which I could gain admittance, my lord," replied
Wilton. "He is a close prisoner in Newgate. I know no one who even
is acquainted with him; and I believe none but his wife and various
members of the government are admitted to see him alone. However, I
will do my best, my lord, and if I can gain admission, I will."
The Duke cast himself in deep despondency into a chair, and mused for
several minutes without reply, seeing evidently, from Wilton's words
and manner, that he thought his case a desperate one. After a moment,
however, a momentary ray of hope crossed his countenance again.
"Cannot you see the Lady Mary Fenwick?" he said. "She could surely
gain you admission to her husband. She is a distant relation of my
own, too, for my grandfather married Lady Carlisle's aunt. Beseech
her, Wilton, to gain you admittance; and try also--try, by all
means--to make her use her influence with her husband in my behalf.
Perhaps at her entreaty he would modify the charge, or retract a part
of it. It can do him no good--it may ruin me."
"I will do my best, my lord," replied Wilton, "and in the meantime my
Lord of Byerdale desired me to tell your grace that he would visit
you to-morrow. He comes, indeed, merely as a friend; but I would beg
your grace to remember that he is also a minister of the crown, bound
by his office to give intimation of everything affecting the welfare
of the state."
"Oh, I will be careful, I will be careful!" replied the Duke. "But
can you think of nothing else, Wilton? can we fall upon no means?
Would to Heaven I had always taken your advice! I should not now be
here. Should I ever escape, you will find me a different being,
Wilton. I will not forget your kindness, nor be ungrateful for it;"
and he fell into a somewhat sad and feeble commentary upon his own
conduct, briefly expressing regret for what he had done, partly
alleging excuses for it, but still evidently speaking under the
overpowering influence of fear; while pride, that weakest and most
enfeebling of all evil passions, gave him no support under
affliction, no strength and vigour in the moment of danger. In his
heart Wilton could not respect him; but still he had nourished in his
bosom feelings of affectionate regard towards him: he knew that
Laura's happiness was not to be separated from her father's safety,
and he resolved once more to exert every energy of mind and body in
the ser