Edward Barnett; a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain,—and t


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Page 2

'Your insinuations and your sneers fall as harmless upon me as your
threats,' said the steward with dignity. 'I am eighty-nine, and shall
soon be beyond them: but when you brand with undeserved infamy one who
never injured you--when you accuse my innocent grandchild of being
privy to the concealment of a midnight robber, as you but now called the
unhappy man whom your ill-usage, whom your misdeeds drove from a happy
home and honorable course of life, you commit an action, only equalled
in its baseness, by its cowardice!'

The Earl started up, purple with rage. For a moment, he seemed about to
strike the aged form before him. He paused, however, and stood regarding
him with clenched hands and furious look, and every evil passion glaring
from his eyes. The steward moved not one inch, but confronted him in the
majesty of venerable age.

The agent paused not for one moment in his task, but quietly labelling
and tying up a pile of documents, placed it in its proper pigeon hole,
and went on with methodical exactness to the next. They were a strange
group. The man of business in his chair, pursuing his work as if no
other were present, but observing all that took place nevertheless; the
nobleman in the prime of glorious manhood, noble, as far as physical
beauty could go; handsome, rich, accomplished, intellectual, but
distorted as that face was now, in his rage, ugly, hideous in the
extreme as he gazed upon the calm face slightly flushed with virtuous
indignation, the spare form and silver locks of the aged man who dared
to stand between him and the victims of his wrath.

Gradually the face of the nobleman became calmer, one by one the lines
of passion disappeared and an expression of cold sarcasm took possession
of his features; he threw himself into his chair and turned to the
agent.

'Mr. Lambert, be pleased to pay particular attention to my orders, that
is if your nerves are not too much discomposed by the exciting piece of
eloquence Mr. Waters has just favored us with for my especial benefit.
Gad! Waters, you'd do the heavy fathers finely on the stage. I'll write
to Davidge for you, that last speech of yours was capital; couldn't you
favor us with a finishing touch, we are all attention.' The agent placed
his papers on the table, and wheeling his chair round, sat in imitation
of his master as if in expectation of hearing some rich joke.

The single word 'God!' escaped the steward as he turned to leave the
room; he gave one glance around as if for the last time looking on those
familiar objects, cast a sorrowful glance at his master, and was about
to quit, when his eye was arrested by a picture; it was that of frank
and noble boy in the pride of youth and beauty, his face ruddy with
exercise, his eye bright with intellect. It was a portrait of the Earl
when a boy.

He turned towards them once more.

'My lord,' said he, 'I pass by your harsh speeches of me and mine. It
may be I spoke too rudely myself. I will dwell no longer on the past, it
is irrevocable; of my broken-hearted grandchild; of her young love,
which was twined too strong around her heart, for one to perish without
the other; of my own head grey in your service I will never more
speak--but oh! for the love that bright boy once bore me, here on my
knees, I entreat you, spare this man, who once was your playmate, spare
him as you would be spared yourself; for let not your proud heart
deceive you, not all your array of domestics, not all your barred doors,
can save you from a violent death, or the guilt of murder, if you do not
stop this unrighteous prosecution--for your own sake I entreat you stop,
ere it be too late. Spurn this grey head if you will into the dust, but
listen and spare.'

The Earl was unmoved as marble.

The old man left with bent head and slow step. 'Lambert, you will issue
a notice, offering �500 to any one who captures Horace Hunter, dead or
alive--also on pain of expulsion from the property, forbid any one
harboring him; send for two London officers. These country bumpkins will
never find him. Enquire for a dissolute fellow, known by the name of
Curly Tom--pay him well: he perhaps may track him, in short, find this
man and punishment to death shall follow.'

'It shall on you!' said a loud voice, apparently near them.

The Earl sprang to the window, and jumped out, the agent trembling
remained, not a living being was in sight--the window opened upon a
smooth lawn, there was not a chance of a person escaping notice, but no
one was there; he summoned the domestics; they searched--no one was
found, they had seen no one. Frantic with rage, yet with an ill-defined
sensation of fear, the nobleman, re-entered the mansion, and dismissing
every one, locked himself in an inner chamber.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Fri 28th Mar 2025, 2:41