The Antiquary — Complete by Walter Scott (best fiction novels to read TXT) 📖

nothing that could be serviceable on the present or any other occasion. As he posted out of the room to borrow his sister’s salts, he could not help giving a constitutional growl of chagrin and wonder at the various incidents which had converted his mansion, first into an hospital for a wounded duellist, and now into the sick chamber of a dying nobleman. “And yet,” said he, “I have always kept aloof from the soldiery and the peerage. My coenobitium has only next to be made a lying-in hospital, and then, I trow, the transformation will be complete.”

When he returned with the remedy, Lord Glenallan was much better. The new and unexpected light which Mr. Oldbuck had thrown upon the melancholy history of his family had almost overpowered him. “You think, then, Mr. Oldbuck—for you are capable of thinking, which I am not—you think, then, that it is possible—that is, not impossible—my child may yet live?”

“I think,” said the Antiquary, “it is impossible that it could come to any violent harm through your brother’s means. He was known to be a gay and dissipated man, but not cruel nor dishonourable; nor is it possible, that, if he had intended any foul play, he would have placed himself so forward in the charge of the infant, as I will prove to your lordship he did.”

So saying, Mr. Oldbuck opened a drawer of the cabinet of his ancestor Aldobrand, and produced a bundle of papers tied with a black ribband, and labelled,—Examinations, etc., taken by Jonathan Oldbuck, J. P., upon the 18th of February, 17—; a little under was written, in a small hand, Eheu Evelina! The tears dropped fast from the Earl’s eyes, as he endeavoured, in vain, to unfasten the knot which secured these documents.

“Your lordship,” said Mr. Oldbuck, “had better not read these at present. Agitated as you are, and having much business before you, you must not exhaust your strength. Your brother’s succession is now, I presume, your own, and it will be easy for you to make inquiry among his servants and retainers, so as to hear where the child is, if, fortunately, it shall be still alive.”

“I dare hardly hope it,” said the Earl, with a deep sigh. “Why should my brother have been silent to me?”

“Nay, my lord, why should he have communicated to your lordship the existence of a being whom you must have supposed the offspring of”—

“Most true—there is an obvious and a kind reason for his being silent. If anything, indeed, could have added to the horror of the ghastly dream that has poisoned my whole existence, it must have been the knowledge that such a child of misery existed.”

“Then,” continued the Antiquary, “although it would be rash to conclude, at the distance of more than twenty years, that your son must needs be still alive because he was not destroyed in infancy, I own I think you should instantly set on foot inquiries.”

“It shall be done,” replied Lord Glenallan, catching eagerly at the hope held out to him, the first he had nourished for many years;—“I will write to a faithful steward of my father, who acted in the same capacity under my brother Neville—But, Mr. Oldbuck, I am not my brother’s heir.”

“Indeed!—I am sorry for that, my lord—it is a noble estate, and the ruins of the old castle of Neville’s-Burgh alone, which are the most superb relics of Anglo-Norman architecture in that part of the country, are a possession much to be coveted. I thought your father had no other son or near relative.”

“He had not, Mr. Oldbuck,” replied Lord Glenallan; “but my brother adopted views in politics, and a form of religion, alien from those which had been always held by our house. Our tempers had long differed, nor did my unhappy mother always think him sufficiently observant to her. In short, there was a family quarrel, and my brother, whose property was at his own free disposal, availed himself of the power vested in him to choose a stranger for his heir. It is a matter which never struck me as being of the least consequence—for if worldly possessions could alleviate misery, I have enough and to spare. But now I shall regret it, if it throws any difficulty in the way of our inquiries—and I bethink me that it may; for in case of my having a lawful son of my body, and my brother dying without issue, my father’s possessions stood entailed upon my son. It is not therefore likely that this heir, be he who he may, will afford us assistance in making a discovery which may turn out so much to his own prejudice.”

“And in all probability the steward your lordship mentions is also in his service,” said the Antiquary.

“It is most likely; and the man being a Protestant—how far it is safe to entrust him”—

“I should hope, my lord,” said Oldbuck gravely, “that a Protestant may be as trustworthy as a Catholic. I am doubly interested in the Protestant faith, my lord. My ancestor, Aldobrand Oldenbuck, printed the celebrated Confession of Augsburg, as I can show by the original edition now in this house.”

“I have not the least doubt of what you say, Mr. Oldbuck,” replied the Earl, “nor do I speak out of bigotry or intolerance; but probably the Protestant steward will favour the Protestant heir rather than the Catholic—if, indeed, my son has been bred in his father’s faith—or, alas! if indeed he yet lives.”

“We must look close into this,” said Oldbuck, “before committing ourselves. I have a literary friend at York, with whom I have long corresponded on the subject of the Saxon horn that is preserved in the Minster there; we interchanged letters for six years, and have only as yet been able to settle the first line of the inscription. I will write forthwith to this gentleman, Dr. Dryasdust, and be particular in my inquiries concerning the character, etc., of your brother’s heir, of the gentleman employed in his affairs, and what else may be likely to further your lordship’s inquiries. In the meantime your lordship will collect the evidence of the marriage, which I hope can still be recovered?”

“Unquestionably,” replied the Earl: “the witnesses, who were formerly withdrawn from your research, are still living. My tutor, who solemnized the marriage, was provided for by a living in France, and has lately returned to this country as an emigrant, a victim of his zeal for loyalty, legitimacy, and religion.”

“That’s one lucky consequence of the French, revolution, my lord—you must allow that, at least,” said Oldbuck: “but no offence; I will act as warmly in your affairs as if I were of your own faith in politics and religion. And take my advice—If you want an affair of consequence properly managed, put it into the hands of an antiquary; for as they are eternally exercising their genius and research upon trifles, it is impossible they can be baffled in affairs of importance;—use makes perfect—and the corps that is most frequently drilled upon the parade, will be most prompt in its exercise upon the day of battle. And, talking upon that subject, I would willingly read to your lordship, in order to pass away the time betwixt and supper”—

“I beg I may not interfere with family arrangements,” said Lord Glenallan, “but I never taste anything after sunset.”

“Nor I either, my lord,” answered his host, “notwithstanding it is said to