CHAPTER CCVII.

MR. GREEN’S OFFICE.

On the same morning, and at about the same time that Charles Hatfield

and Captain Barthelma thus encountered each other in Regent Street,

certain incidents of importance to the thread of our narrative occurred

elsewhere.

We must request the reader to accompany us to a newly fitted up suite

of offices in Warwick Court, Holborn; and in the private room we shall

find Mr. Green seated at a desk covered with papers.

A material alteration had taken place in the external appearance of

this individual. He was well dressed--looked clean and neat--and wore

an air of assurance instead of the downcast, obsequious, grovelling

demeanour that had characterised him when in the service of Mr.

Heathcote.

His private room was neatly furnished and had a business-like aspect:

in the front office two clerks were busily employed in drawing up

statements to be laid before counsel in several heavy suits; and in the

passage outside a process-server was waiting for instructions.

Mr. Green had drawn his table near the fire that blazed in the

grate--for the reader must remember that several months had elapsed

since the adventures of this individual with Jack Rily, and it was now

the commencement of February, 1847.

The cheerful flames roared half-way up the chimney;--and as Green

felt the genial heat diffusing a glow throughout his frame, he

smiled triumphantly as he contrasted his present position with what

it was in those times when he was compelled to sit without a fire,

from nine in the morning till six in the evening, on the hard high

stool in Heathcote’s front office. Now he was a solicitor on his own

account--had his name once more in the Law List--could look with

complacency into his banker’s book--and, when business was over for the

day, had nothing to do but to step into an omnibus and ride as far as

the door of his neat little dwelling at Bayswater.

No wonder, then, that Mr. Green’s countenance had lost its downcast

look and its haggard, broken-hearted expression: no wonder that hope

beamed in his eyes, and that his tone and manner had recovered the

assurance, if not the actual dignity, of former days.

On the particular morning of which we are writing, Mr. Green was more

than usually elate; and as he looked over the papers that lay before

him, the inward exultation which he experienced imparted the glow of

animation to his features.

Presently the door opened and his junior clerk appeared, saying, “Mr.

Heathcote, sir.”

“Let him walk in,” returned Green, assuming a cold tone: but his heart

was palpitating violently with mingled feelings of joy, triumph, and

insatiate revenge.

In a few moments James Heathcote entered the room.

But, oh! how changed was that man, not only in countenance but also in

deportment! His face was thin--haggard--care-worn: his eyes, sunken

in their sockets, were dim and glazed;--his form was bowed;--and in

the course of a few months his hair had turned from an iron grey to

a stainless white. His aspect was deplorable; and his manner was

indicative of deep mental distress--anxiety--suffering--and humiliation.

“Sit down, sir,” said Green, in a patronising tone.

Heathcote placed his hat upon the floor and took a chair: then,

fixing his hollow eyes upon his ex-clerk, he was about to open his

business--but, unable to bear up against the tide of reminiscences that

rushed to his soul, he burst into tears.

Green affected not to notice this ebullition of grief; but deliberately

poked the fire.

For a few minutes the old lawyer sate sobbing in the presence of the

man whom he had trampled upon during the long period of his vassalage;

and at length recovering sufficient composure to enable his tongue to

give utterance to the ideas that were uppermost, he said, “Mr. Green,

you are doubtless astonished to receive a visit from _me_!”

“Not at all, sir: I expected it,” was the laconic reply.

“And wherefore should you have expected it?” asked Heathcote, anxiously.

“Because the result of yesterday’s trial in the Court of Queen’s Bench

places you completely in the power of my victorious client,” responded

Green; “and you are likewise well aware that every other action pending

against you must he decided in the same manner.”

“Yes--I cannot close my eyes to that fact,” observed Heathcote,

actually wringing his hands.

“And therefore you are ruined--totally ruined,” returned Green, with a

demoniac smile of triumph.

“Ruined--totally ruined!” repeated Heathcote, with that mechanical

unconsciousness which is indicative of despair--blank despair.

“Not only ruined in pocket, but in character likewise,” resumed

Green, his tone becoming merciless--nay, absolutely savage and

ferocious. “That long trial of yesterday--a trial which occupied

eight hours--revealed you in your true colours to all the world. The

counsel whom I employed, tore you to pieces. All your chicanery was

unravelled--all your manœvres traced, followed up, and exposed--all

your fraudulent proceedings dragged to light. Oh! you, who never

spared a human being, Mr. Heathcote, were not spared yesterday:

you, who never pitied a living soul, were not pitied yesterday! The

barrister resembled a giant, and you a dwarf whom he held up writhing

and shrieking in presence of the whole court--aye, the whole country.

Every newspaper published this morning, contains a long account of the

proceedings;--and by this time your character stinks in the nostrils of

the entire profession.”

“Then am I not sufficiently punished, Mr. Green?” asked Heathcote, the

tears rolling down his thin, emaciated, and sallow countenance. “Since

you first commenced these numerous suits against me, I have not known

a moment’s peace. Sleep has scarcely ever visited my pillow: the awful

gulph of infamy and disgrace was always yawning at my feet. Look at

me, Mr. Green--look at me! Am I not changed? My God! I am twenty years

older than I was on that day when you quitted me in such anger and with

such dreadful threats!”

“And those threats shall be fulfilled to the very letter--yes, to the

very letter,” said Mr. Green, in a tone of unmitigated bitterness.

“I told you that there should be war between us--war to the very

knife;--and I have kept my word! I told you that ere a few months had

elapsed, you would bitterly repent your conduct to one who only asked

for a little kindness in return for his faithful services;--and you

have already repented! But my memory is immortal, Mr. Heathcote--and I

can never, never forget the injuries, the insults, the degradations,

and the wrongs I have received at your hands. My thirst for revenge is

therefore insatiable--and this very day shall I adopt another and still

more important proceeding with regard to you.”

“My God! all this amounts to a persecution!” ejaculated Heathcote,

literally writhing upon his chair.

“Call it what you will, sir,” responded Green, savagely: “no words--no

entreaties--no menaces--no prayers on your part can stay me in the

course which I am adopting.”

“And that course?” said Heathcote, shuddering with apprehension.

“Is an indictment at the Old Bailey for conspiracy,” answered Green.

“No--no: you cannot do it!” cried Heathcote, now becoming dreadfully

excited.

“You are lawyer enough to know that I _can_ do it,” rejoined Green,

with a smile of infernal triumph. “The evidence obtained from

yesterday’s proceedings inculpated another person with you in the

fraud--the damnable fraud that you practised upon my client years ago;

and at this very moment my clerks are drawing up the statement to be

submitted to counsel with a view to an indictment against yourself and

your accomplice!”

“I could have borne everything but this!” exclaimed the miserable man,

covering his face with his two thin hands, and then shaking his head

wildly, as if in a species of hysteria.

“Yes--and you suspected that such would be the course that I should

adopt,” resumed Green: “for it is precisely the measure that you

yourself would have taken in similar circumstances. What you have done

to others, Mr. Heathcote, shall now be done to you;--and it were as

reasonable to implore the forbearance of a ravenous tiger, as to appeal

to me for mercy!”

“One word, Mr. Green--one word!” ejaculated Heathcote, starting from

his seat. “I will at once--yes, this very moment--surrender up all the

various sums and properties you claim on behalf of the numerous clients

whom you represent _against_ me,--I will satisfy and liquidate all your

demands--leaving myself a beggar--yes, a beggar upon the face of the

earth--on condition that you abandon this criminal prosecution!”

“Peruse that list of my clients and the amount of their claims,” said

Green, handing the wretched man a paper.

“The sum is enormous--frightful!” exclaimed Heathcote, his countenance

becoming hideous to gaze upon.

“And to that amount must be added a thousand pounds to satisfy me for

the costs which I shall lose by the compromise,” returned Green, with

implacable coldness both of tone and manner.

“As God is my judge, I cannot command that additional thousand pounds

which you stipulate for!” cried Heathcote, trembling with nervous

excitement.

“Then apply to your brother, Sir Gilbert,” responded Green, a sardonic

smile curling his lips.

“He is not in England--he has gone abroad, I know not whither!”

exclaimed the miserable man. “Months have now elapsed since his

mistress became reconciled to her husband, the Marquis of Delmour--and

Gilbert suddenly quitted England about the same time. He refused to

see me previous to his departure: he rejected my proposals--my humble

proposals for a reconciliation. Therefore, were I even acquainted with

his present abode, it would be useless and vain to apply to him for

succour.”

“Thus is it that all your grand schemes--your magnificent designs--your

comprehensive plans, have fallen in with a tremendous crash, burying

you in the ruins!” said Green, in a slow and measured tone that was

torturing and intolerable with its diabolical sardonism. “Well,” he

continued, after a few moments’ pause, “I will renounce the demand of

the thousand pounds, on condition that you at once--and ere you quit

my presence--assign all your property, of whatever kind, with a view

to the liquidation of these claims and the settlement of all the suits

pending against you.”

“I will do so,” said Heathcote, “provided that you give me an

undertaking to abandon all criminal proceedings against me.”

“Agreed,” was the response; and the two lawyers drew up certain

documents which they forthwith exchanged: and we may observe that

whereas Green’s handwriting was firm, clear, and legible, that of

his discomfited opponent was trembling, blotted, and indicative of a

terrible excitement.

“My ruin--my utter ruin is now consummated!” groaned Heathcote,

wringing his hands bitterly. “All that I had heaped up for my old

age----”

“And that you had obtained at the sacrifice of the happiness of

hundreds,” interrupted Green, his tone suddenly assuming the savage

triumph of one who gloats over the downfall of a hated enemy. “But we

will not prolong our interview, sir. The day of retribution has come at

last--and in a few minutes I have wreaked the pent-up vengeance of long

years. Begone, sir--offend me not another moment with your presence! My

head clerk shall accompany you to your own office in order that you may

place in his hands the securities and the documents specified in the

agreement that you have given me.”

Heathcote made no reply: but turning hastily away, took his departure,

followed by Green’s managing man, who received the necessary

instructions from his master.

Scarcely had the ruined lawyer thus quitted the establishment of his

flourishing and merciless oppressor, when a lady wearing a thick black

veil entered the front office and requested an immediate interview with

Mr. Green. The junior clerk delivered this message to his employer, and

the lady was forthwith introduced to the legal gentleman’s presence in

the comfortable back room.

A rapid glance at his visitress convinced Mr. Green that she was

likely to prove no ordinary client: for the elegance of her dress, the

gracefulness of her demeanour, and the dignity of her gait bespoke a

lady of distinction;--and when, on taking the chair which he hastened

to place for her accommodation, she raised her veil, he was struck by

the transcendent beauty of the countenance thus revealed to him.

“We are alone together, sir,” said the lovely stranger, looking

intently around: “but can listeners overhear anything that may pass

between us?”

“There is no need of apprehension on that head, madam,” answered Green.

“Speak freely--and without reserve.”

“I have called upon business of great importance to myself, and which

may prove most lucrative to you,” continued the lady.

“Before we proceed farther, madam,” said the lawyer, “may I request to

be informed who recommended you to me?”

“A client of yours who resides in Pimlico, and with whom I am

acquainted,” answered the beautiful woman. “Perhaps you have heard

mention made of my name. I _was_ the Countess of Carignano: but I

presume that, since my husband’s native land has become a Republic and

abolished titles of nobility, I must introduce myself to you as Signora

Barthelma.”

“I have heard of you, madam,” responded Green: “and I shall be

delighted to number you amongst my clients.”

“It is for this purpose that I have addressed myself to you to-day,”

observed Laura. “But I must at once inform you that the object of my

visit is scarcely connected with law.”

“If I can serve you, madam----” began Green, who was completely

fascinated by her beauty and her manners.

“And serve yourself also?” added Laura: “yes--you can do both!

Know, then, that I cherish a rancourous--burning hatred against two

individuals--father and son--and that the time has now come for me to

wreak my vengeance upon them. The son has just returned from Italy--I

saw his arrival mentioned in this morning’s paper; and not another

day--not another hour can I rest ere a train be laid that must lead to

the explosion of all the happiness they now expect to enjoy.”

“And who are these persons, madam?” asked Green.

“Their name is Hatfield--and they reside at the mansion of the Earl

of Ellingham, in Pall Mall,” responded Laura. “I am acquainted with

a terrific secret regarding that family--a secret which would make

the hair of all England’s proud aristocracy stand on end--a secret,

in fine, that now affords me the means of humbling my two mortal

enemies in the dust. Will you, sir, become the instrument of my

vengeance?--will you perform my bidding in all respects? I know that

I ask a great deal--that I am about to involve you in no trifling nor

unimportant enterprise--and that the business does not with propriety

come within the sphere of your professional avocations. But the

recompense shall be most liberal; and I proffer this note for five

hundred pounds as an earnest of my intentions in that respect.”

Green’s eyes glistened at the sight of this generous gift; and he

hastened to assure Signora Barthelma that he not only undertook her

business with cheerfulness, but would enter into it with as much

enthusiasm as if he were interested in it from personal feeling.

“I thought that I was not deceived in your character, from what

I had heard,” observed Laura. “For let there be no mistake nor

misunderstanding between us, Mr. Green,” she continued, fixing her

fine, large grey eyes intently upon him: “_you_ have no objection

to make money--_I_ have money to dispense amongst those who serve

me;--_you_ will not feel qualmish nor entertain a maudlin sentiment of

honour in matters that are likely to prove lucrative--and _I_ am ready

to pay handsomely for the assistance which you can render me.”

“Proceed, madam,” said Green: “we understand each other.”

“Good!” ejaculated Laura; “and now listen attentively. I am about to

communicate to you secrets of the most startling character; and it is

by the use which must be made of those revelations, that my vengeance

is to be gratified. At the same time you are to act in this matter

without suffering it to be known that you are instigated by me. If

questioned respecting the manner in which you became acquainted with

these tremendous secrets, you must give some evasive reply; and if

my name be suggested as your probable informant, you must declare

boldly that you never even heard of me in your life. For those whom I

am anxious to crush--overwhelm--and cover with confusion, might tell

certain tales of a disagreeable nature concerning myself: but if they

be kept in ignorance that it is I who am in the background, they will

remain silent in these respects. You see that I am candid with you, Mr.

Green.”

“And that very frankness, madam, renders me the more anxious to serve

you,” answered the unprincipled attorney.

“Thanks for this assurance,” said Laura, delighted at having found so

ready and willing an instrument to carry out her vindictive designs.

“And now for these tremendous secrets to which I have already alluded!

Learn, then, that the elder Mr. Hatfield of whom I have spoken, and who

is a gentleman apparently of high respectability and enjoying a good

reputation,--learn, I say, that he is in reality none other than the

celebrated highwayman Thomas Rainford of former times! Yes--you may

well start and be amazed, Mr. Green,” continued Laura, emphatically:

“but it is the truth--the solemn truth! And it is nothing to that

revelation which I have next to make. For this Mr. Hatfield, or rather

Thomas Rainford, was the elder son of the late Earl of Ellingham; and,

being legitimately born, he is the rightful possessor of the peerage

and the entailed estates.”

“This is most wonderful!” ejaculated Green, staring almost stupidly

with amazement.

“I have yet other revelations to make,” continued Laura, in a tone of

subdued triumph. “Thomas Rainford married a certain Lady Georgiana

Hatfield, and adopted _her_ name. They have a son, whose name is

Charles, and who passes as their nephew, because he is illegitimate.

It is this son whose arrival in London yesterday is announced in this

morning’s journals. The same paragraph which records his return from

Italy, hints at the probability of his shortly leading Lady Frances

Ellingham to the altar. You know the sickening, fulsome terms in

which such matters are glanced at in the department of fashionable

intelligence? But before such marriage shall take place, it is my

purpose to carry woe--desolation of heart--infamy--disgrace--and the

deepest, deepest humiliation into that proud mansion! I care not

that these Hatfields should remain in ignorance of the fact that it

is really I who strike the blow: ’twill be sufficient for me to be

convinced that the blow itself _is_ struck. Do you begin to comprehend

me?”

“I understand you altogether and completely, madam!” exclaimed Green.

“You would have me repair forthwith to Ellingham House, and by seeking

some cause of dispute with one or more of its inmates, seize the

opportunity to proclaim aloud all the tremendous secrets which you have

just revealed to me. Is not this your purpose?”

“It is,” responded Laura: then, in a lower but more emphatic tone,

she added, “And take care that the whole proceeding be accompanied

with such circumstances of notoriety, that it must inevitably engage

the attention of the public press. In a word, contrive that all those

revelations shall appear in print, Mr. Green; and a thousand guineas

shall be your recompense!”

“It shall be done, madam--it shall be done,” answered the lawyer, his

heart exulting at the idea of the munificent reward thus promised.

“To-morrow I shall visit you again,” said Laura. “But remember, this

affair rests between you and me! Should you ever encounter me when I am

walking or riding out with my husband, you will not appear to know me:

we are strangers to each other everywhere save within the four walls of

this room!”

“I understand and will obey all your wishes, madam,” returned Green.

The lovely but vindictive and profligate woman then took her departure;

and the lawyer lost no time in repairing to Pall Mall.