Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 370: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

} I JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 357 you see that you need stand on no punctilios, nor | tive down to the point at which it is known to the entertain any false delicacy in the matter.” While Sir Matthew Heseltine was delivering himself of the latter portion of his speech, I had time to collect my confused and scattered ideas ; and I prepared to address myself to the task which he demanded at my hands. Hope was again re- viving within me. Wherefore should he wish to be acquainted with all my antecedents, if it were not to measure my deserts and judge of my wor: thiness to aspire to the hand of his granddaughter ? But as this idea flashed to my brain, rekindling hope in my soul, I felt that I had more than ever a special reason for avoiding any mention of my amour with Lady Calanthe Dundas; and this was the only episode in my life of which I was ashamed. But there were several other matters which I was either compelled to suppress altogether, or else merely to gloss over. I allude, for instance, to my knowledge of the frailty of the Marquis of Chil- ham’s daughter, Gertrude, before she became the wife of Mr. Stephen Rowland; and therefore I could say nothing of my adventures in respect to the room with the dreadful picture. Neither could I explain wherefore it was that I had quitted the Tivertons of Myrtle Lodge, or Mrs. Robinson’s service in the Isle of Wight; because any explana- tion on those heads would have necessarily led me into certain avowals with regard to Lady Calanthe. But in respect to Mr. Lanover I no longer saw any need to conceal his treacherous treatment of me when I met him in Aldersgate Street, and how he had shipped me on board the emigrant-vessel. I felt persuaded that Sir Matthew Heseltine would never receive that man—would never again per- mit his daughter to live with him; and I was by no means sorry to be enabled to aggravate the Baronet’s resentment, abhorrence, and disgust in respect to the humpback. From the preceding observations the reader will comprehend how much of my narrative I revealed to Sir Matthew Heseltine. I told him how I had been brought up at school in total ignorance of my parentage—how I fled from Leicester, when in my fifteenth year, to escape consignment to the work- house—how I entered Mr. Delmar’s service—how I thence passed to Mr. Lanover’s care—how I was taken into the household of Lord Ravenshill—how I thence changed to Myrtle Lodge. From that point I hastily skipped to my entrance into Dr. Pomfret’s service—thence to Mrs. Robinson’s— and thence to the household of the Chief of Inch Methglin. I related at full length the inter- vening episode in respect to Lanover and the ship- wreck ; and I was equally explicit with regard to all that I did to further the love-affair of Sir Alexander Carrondale in respect to Emmeline. I stated how Mr. Lanover’s presence at Perth had frightened me away from that town,—thereby inducing me to renounce the excellent situation proffered me by Sir Alexander. I then came to my adventures with Mr. Dorchester, and how I had entered the household of the Rowlands at Manchester,—at the mention of whose name a smile, only slightly perceptible, wavered for a mo- ment upon the previously imperturbable counte- nance of the old Baronet. I said but little in respect to those few months which I passed in the service of Mr. Shackleford, and not a syllable in respect to Lady Calanthe. I brought my narra- reader; not forgetting to describe my interview with Lord and Lady Eccleston in London: but throughout the whole history I said nothing of my love for Annabel—no more than [ spoke of Calanthe’s unfortunate love for me. Sir Matthew listened to me in total silence: he did not interrupt me once: he asked not a single question. Nor did I give him an oppor. tunity to do so ;—for despite the various omissions, suppressions, skippings, and glossings which I was compelled to observe in the progress of my tale, I rendered it so entirely consecutive that there was no actual halt nor perceptibly abrupt leap in the chain of incidents. And it was by no means easy to preserve this continuity: for I must frankly confess that I was compelled to dissimulate in certain parts, for reasons which must be obvious to the reader; and all the while Sir Matthew’s eyes were fixed keenly upon me, as if ready to flash if for a moment he detected me in any un- truth or misrepresentation. Indeed, during the hour that my history lasted, he never once took those piercing eyes of his off me. Ido not think that he even once moved in his chair; nor did the expression of his countenance undergo the slightest change, save and except when that transient and scarcely perceptible smile appeared upon his lips at the mention of the name of Rowland. When I had ceased speaking, he continued silent for several minutes—but still without averting his eyes from my countenance. I could not for the life of me make out whether he had fathomed the little dissimulation of which I had here and there been guilty in respect to omissions, suppressions, and glossing over motives tor leaving certain situations ; or whether he felt perfectly satisfied with all I had told him. I therefore sat upon the tenter-hooks of suspense: but I have no reason to believe that my countenance betrayed anything of what was passing in my mind. “ Well, Joseph,” said the Baronet, at length breaking that long and ominous silence, “I have heard all you have thought fit to tell me. But did I not at the very outset enjoin you to speak with the utmost franknessP Have you done so, sirP Come!” he screeched forth, in his old style when at Reading; “‘ look me in the face, and tell me whether there isn’t something that you have kept back P” I certainly did now feel that there were confu- sion and trepidation in my countenance,—on be- holding which, Sir Matthew’s eyes became more and more keen and penetrating in the looks which they fixed upon me. « Ah!” he eried, “ your face, young man, pleads guilty. Now, what the deuce do you think I have been sitting here for all this time Butno! I won’t talk in that strain,” he suddenly interrupted himself, as if mindful of some resolve which he had taken to throw off as much as possible those cynical habits and modes of speech which had been so long habitual to him. ‘Come, Joseph,’ he added in a lower and milder tone, “ confess the truth, young man! There is one feeling which you have experienced—one hope which you have cherished—one aspiration which you havo formed——” “ Oh, sir!”? I exclaimed, infinitely relieved by the words in which he was now addressing me: ElOOO SS (CO) iin