Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 399: what you’re looking at

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

386 JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. dasher’s shop. The explanations he thus gave me, on this and other points, were mingled with sin- cerely expressed regrets for his misdeeds—those that were intended, as well as those which were actually perpetrated. He asked me respecting Annabel and her mother; and I told him that in a few months Annabel was to accompany me to the altar. . “Were I a man,” he said, “ who dared give issue to a blessing from his lips, I would bless you both! But believe me—Oh! believe me when I declare that you have my heartfelt wishes for your happiness. And that ye will be happy, I have no doubt !—for after a life of intrigue, machination, plot, and crime, my experiences have brought me to this result—that IE am impressed with the con- viction of God’s justice, reecompensive and retribu- tive; and that even in this world there may be foretastes alike of heaven and of hell.” There was another long pause: it seemed to me that Lanover’s countenance was growing ghastlier, and that the heralding symptoms of death’s ap- proach were becoming more and more visible: but with another effort he prepared himself to speak. “Jt is upwards of six months since your father died,” he continued ; “and during that interval I have dwelt in this wretched den. ‘The direst poverty overtook me: but I made not an effort to emancipate myself from it. I appealed to no one for succour: I accepted it as a chastisement in- flicted by heaven ;—and in enduring it, methought I was making at least some little atonement for the past. I have parted with my garments to procure food: the mercenary wretch who brought you hither, would have sent me to the workhouse or the hospital, had I not given her the assurance that you in your generosity would liquidate what- soever | may owe her. And now, as for the boon which I have to ask—if indeed I dare ask a boon at your lordship’s hands - “ Yes—Oh, yes!” I exclaimed. ‘“ What is there T can do to serve you ?” “Tt is that I may not have a pauper’s grave,” replied Lanover. ‘There will be no mourners for me—— this I know full well: but let my grave be dug in some suburban cemetery, that the grass may grow green above it. This may appear a weakness—a foolish phantasy call it what you will: it is nevertheless an evidence of that change of mind which I have experienced !” «All you have asked of me shall be fulfilled,” I responded. “Is there aught else which I can do for you P” “ Nothing, nothing, my lord,” rejoined Lanover, again weeping. “ Your conduct towards me—the forgiveness you have vouchsafed—the assurances you have just made me,—all, all have touched me deeply. 1t is strange, this balm which you have infused into my soul! Oh, would that I dared bless you! But God himself has blessed you; and in my penitence I shall die with the consciousness that you are surrounded with all the elements of prosperity. And now leave me.” “ No—I shall not leave you, Mr. Lanover,” I answered: “we will again pray together. It is my duty as a Christian to behave thus towards you my duty likewise to smooth the dying pillow of a penitent fellow-creature.” I knelt therefore and prayed; and Lanover’s voice joined audibly with my own. Suddenly he broke forth into the most piteous lamentations,— declaring his conviction how impossible it was that he could be forgiven—that God, with all his merey, could not pardon so deeply-stained a criminal as he—that hell was yawning for him—and that close behind advancing Death, approached the awful form of Satan likewise. I said all that I deemed fitting in such circumstances—all that I considered suitable to be urged upon the mind of the aying man. He grew consoled—he was strengthened with hope once again. In this better frame of mind I kept him,—until at about three o’clock in the morning, when the light was flicker- ing in its socket, and the grey dawn was peeping through the window, the spirit of Lanover fled for ever. All was thus over. I had cheered and comforted the last moments of him who for years past had been my mortal enemy, Issuing from the chamber of death, I descended the stairs, and found the woman of the house seated with a female lodger in a room on the ground-floor. They had not as yet retired to rest: they were waiting until I should take my departure. I told her that Lanover was dead ; and I left a sum of money which must have far more than acquitted any liability due from the deceased. I also intimated that the obsequies would be conducted by some one whom [I should charge to undertake them; and I issued from the house. Slowly and thoughtfully did I wend my way on foot towards Hatton Garden; and as I was proceeding thither I passed a shop, whence, from within the closed shutters, came the sounds of hammers. It was an undertaker’s. I knocked: the door was opened—and I asked to see the master of the establishment. He was at work in- side; for it appeared, from something which was | said to me, that three or four recent deaths had rendered him thus unusually busy, and had com- pelled him and his men to rise betimes on this particular morning. My business was speedily explained: I entrusted the undertaker with all the details of the funeral; and as I placed a liberal sum at his disposal, he asked no questions as to who I myself might be. I thence proceeded into Holborn,—where I soon found a cab which con- veyed me home. Neither my mother nor any of the guests stay- ing at the house knew that I had thus been for hours absent: but after breakfast I took an oppore tunity of being alone with my mother, in order to acquaint her with what had taken place. In the course of that day, too, I narrated the same facts to the Count of Livorno,—he being already aware of so much of my former history and of how large a part Lanover had played therein. It was not however until after the funeral,—until after the remains of the deceased had been con- signed to a grave in a suburban cemetery,—that I mentioned his death and its circumstances to Sir Matthew Heseltine, Mrs. Lanover, and Aunabel. Sir Matthew was now determined to execute a de- sign which he had for some time past formed; and this was that his daughter should thenceforth re- nounce the name of Lanover and resume that of her first husband—namely, Bentinck. Mr. Ten- nant, his solicitor, received the requisite instruce- tions: some pretext in respect to property was alleged; and by payment of the usual fees, the Royal permission was obtained for Mrs. Lanover ElO@QO) S (CO)