With these words he handed to the count the letter which he had written to himself in a feigned hand, and to which he had affixed a fictitious name and address.
The count read the letter and was satisfied.
He then rose to depart.
"To-morrow evening, at seven o'clock punctually, I shall do myself the pleasure of waiting upon you. In a few days, you remember, I and my family are coming up to town to pass some time with Lord Tremordyn."
"And I shall then be bold and presumptuous enough," said Greenwood, "to endeavour to render myself acceptable to the Signora Isabella."
"By the bye," exclaimed the count, "I forgot to inform you of the villany of that Richard Markham, whom I received into the bosom of my family, and treated as a son, or a brother."
"His villany!" ejaculated Greenwood, in a tone of unfeigned surprise.
"Villany the most atrocious!" cried the count. "He is a man branded with the infamy of a felon's gaol!"
"Impossible!" said Greenwood, this time affecting the astonishment expressed by his countenance.
"It is, alas! too true. The night before last, he invited thieves to break into my dwelling: and to those miscreants had he boasted of his intentions to win the favour of my daughter!"
"Oh! no—no," said Greenwood emphatically; "you must have been misinformed!"
"On the contrary, I have received evidence only too corroborative of what I tell you. But when I come to-morrow evening, I will give you the details."
The count then took his departure.
"Thank God!" said Mr. Greenwood to himself, the moment the door had closed behind the Italian nobleman: "I have succeeded in putting off that bothering count for three good months. Much may be done in the mean time; and if I can secure his daughter—all will be well! I can then pension him off upon a hundred and fifty pounds a year—and retain possession of his capital. But this deed—he demands the deed of guarantee: he presses for that! I must give him the security to show my good-will; and then neutralise that concession on my part, in the manner already resolved upon. How strange was the account he gave me of Richard Markham! That unhappy young man appears to be the victim of the most wonderful combination of suspicious circumstances ever known; for guilty he could not be—oh! no—impossible!"
Mr. Greenwood's meditations were interrupted by the entrance of Lord Tremordyn.
This nobleman was a short, stout, good-tempered man. Being a large landholder, he exercised considerable influence in his county, of which he was lord-lieutenant; and he boasted that he could return six members to parliament in spite of the Reform-bill. His wife was moreover allied to one of the richest and most important families in the hierarchy of the aristocracy; and thus Lord Tremordyn—with no talent, no knowledge, no acquirements to recommend him, but with certain political tenets which he inherited along with the family estate, and which he professed for no other reason than because they were those of his ancestors—Lord Tremordyn, we say, was a very great man in the House of Lords. He seldom spoke, it is true; but then he voted—and dictated to others how to vote; and in this existed his power. When he did speak, he uttered an awful amount of nonsense; but the reporters were very kind—and so his speeches read well. Indeed, he did not know them again when he perused them in print the morning after their delivery. Moreover, his wife was a blue-stocking, and dabbled a little in politics; and she occasionally furnished her noble husband with a few hints which might have been valuable had he clothed them in language a little intelligible. For the rest, Lord Tremordyn was a most hospitable man, was fond of his bottle, and fancied himself a sporting character because he kept hounds and horses, and generally employed an agent to "make up a book" for him at races, whereby he was most amazingly plundered.
"My dear lord," exclaimed Mr. Greenwood, conducting his noble visitor to a seat; "I am delighted to see your lordship look so well. So you have parted with Electricity? I heard of it yesterday at Tattersalls'."
"Yes—and a good price I had for him. But, by the way, my dear Greenwood, I must not forget to thank you for the Hock you sent me. It is superb!"
"I am delighted that your lordship is pleased with it. Have you seen Sir Rupert Harborough lately?"
"My scapegrace son-in-law? I wish I had never seen him at all!" ejaculated his lordship. "He is over head and ears in debt again: and I swear most solemnly that I will do nothing more for him—not to the amount of a penny-piece! Cecilia, too, has quarrelled with her mother; and, even if she had not, Lady Tremordyn is the last woman on earth to advance them a shilling."
"It is a pity—a great pity!" said Mr. Greenwood, apparently musing; then, after a brief pause, he added, "You never can guess, my dear lord, why I wished to see your lordship so particularly this morning?"
"About the match between Electricity and Galvanism? The odds are three to four."
"That was not exactly my business," said Greenwood, with a bland smile: "the fact is, the representation of Rottenborough will be vacant in a few weeks. I know positively, that the present member intends to accept the Chiltern Hundreds."
"I have received a similar intimation," observed his lordship.
"At present the matter is a profound secret."
"Yes—a profound secret: known only to the member's friends, and me and my friends, and you and your friends," added the nobleman, seriously meaning what he said without any attempt at irony or satire.
"Of course there will be an election in February, shortly after the Houses meet," continued Greenwood. "I was going to observe to your lordship that I should be most happy to offer myself as a candidate——"
"You, Greenwood! What—are you a politician?"
"Not so profound nor so well versed as your lordship; but I flatter myself that, aided by your lordship's advice——"
"Lady Tremordyn would never consent to it!"
"And by Lady Tremordyn's suggestions——"
"It would never do! She will have a man of rank and family; and—excuse me, Greenwood—although you are no doubt rich enough far a lord, and well educated, and clever, and so on—the deuce of it is that we don't know who the devil you are!"
"An excellent family—an excellent family, my dear lord," exclaimed Mr. Greenwood; "and although nothing equal to your own, which I know to be the most ancient in England——"
"Or Scotland, or Ireland, either."
"Or Scotland, or Ireland, or even Europe—still——"
"No—it cannot be done, Greenwood;—it cannot be done," interrupted the nobleman. "I would do any thing to oblige you;—but——"
At that moment the door opened, and Lafleur entered the study.
"If you please, sir," said the French valet, "the Duke of Portsmouth has sent round to know whether he can positively rely upon your company to dinner this evening?"
"My best compliments to his grace, Lafleur," said Mr. Greenwood, affecting to meditate upon this message for a moment, "and I will do myself the honour of waiting on his grace at the usual hour."
"Very good, sir."
And Lafleur retired.
"Well, after all," resumed Lord Tremordyn, who had not lost a word of this message and the answer, "I think I might undertake to arrange the Rottenborough business for you. You have high acquaintances—and they often do more good than high connexions. So we will consider that matter as settled."
"I am deeply obliged to your lordship," said Greenwood, with the calmness of a man who had never entertained a fear of being ultimately enabled to carry his point: "you will see that I shall imitate in the Lower House your lordship's admirable