`I have none,' said Nicholas; `nor, in the consideration of the station you once held, have I used that or any other word which, however harmless in itself, could be supposed to imply authority on my part or dependence on yours. I have no orders, but I have fears--fears that I will express, chafe as you may--fears that you may be consigning that young lady to something worse than supporting you by the labour of her hands, had she worked herself dead. These are my fears, and these fears I found upon your own demeanour.
Your conscience will tell you, sir, whether I construe it well or not.'
`For Heaven's sake!' cried Madeline, interposing in alarm between them.
`Remember, sir, he is ill.'
`Ill!' cried the invalid, gasping and catching for breath. `Ill! Ill!
I am bearded and bullied by a shop-boy, and she beseeches him to pity me and remember I am ill!'
He fell into a paroxy** of his disorder, so violent that for a few moments Nicholas was alarmed for his life; but finding that he began to recover, he withdrew, after signifying by a gesture to the young lady that he had something important to communicate, and would wait for her outside the room. He could hear that the sick man came gradually, but slowly, to himself, and that without any reference to what had just occurred, as though he had no distinct recollection of it as yet, he requested to be left alone.
`Oh!' thought Nicholas, `that this slender chance might not be lost, and that I might prevail, if it were but for one week's time and reconsideration!'
`You are charged with some commission to mc, sir,' said Madeline, presenting herself in great agitation. `Do not press it now, I beg and pray you. The day after tomorrow--come here then.'
`It will be too late--too late for what I have to say,' rejoined Nicholas, `and you will not be here. Oh, madam, if you have but one thought of him who sent me here, but one last lingering care for your own peace of mind and heart, I do for God's sake urge you to give me a hearing.'
She attempted to pass him, but Nicholas gently detained her.
`A hearing,' said Nicholas. `I ask you but to hear me--not me alone, but him for whom I speak, who is far away and does not know your danger.
In the name of Heaven hear me!'
The poor attendant, with her eyes swollen and red with weeping, stood by; and to her Nicholas appealed in such passionate terms that she opened a side-door, and, supporting her mistress into an adjoining room, beckoned Nicholas to follow them.
`Leave me, sir, pray,' said the young lady.
`I cannot, will not leave you thus,' returned Nicholas. `I have a duty to discharge; and, either here, or in the room from which we have just now come, at whatever risk or hazard to Mr Bray, I must beseech you to contemplate again the fearful course to which you have been impelled.'
`What course is this you speak of, and impelled by whom, sir?' demanded the young lady, with an effort to speak proudly.
`I speak of this marriage,' returned Nicholas, `of this marriage, fixed for tomorrow, by one who never faltered in a bad purpose, or lent his aid to any good design; of this marriage, the history of which is known to me, better, far better, than it is to you. I know what web is wound about you. I know what men they are from whom these schemes have come. You are betrayed and sold for money--for gold, whose every coin is rusted with tears, if not red with the blood of ruined men, who have fallen desperately by their own mad hands.'
`You say you have a duty to discharge,' said Madeline, `and so have I. And with the help of Heaven I will perform it.'
`Say rather with the help of devils,' replied Nicholas, `with the help of men, one of them your destined husband, who are--'
`I must not hear this,' cried the young lady, striving to repress a shudder, occasioned, as it seemed, even by this slight allusion to Arthur Gride. `This evil, if evil it be, has been of my own seeking. I am impelled to this course by on one, but follow it of my own free will. You see Iam not constrained or forced. Report this,' said Madeline, `to my dear friend and benefactor, and, taking with you my prayers and thanks for him and for yourself, leave me for ever!'
`Not until I have besought you, with all the earnestness and fervour by which I am animated,' cried Nicholas, `to postpone this marriage for one short week. Not until I have besought you to think more deeply than you can have done, influenced as you are, upon the step you are about to take. Although you cannot be fully conscious of the villainy of this man to whom you are about to give your hand, some of his deeds you know. You have heard him speak, and have looked upon his face. Reflect, reflect, before it is too late, on the mockery of plighting to him at the altar, faith in which your heart can have no share--of uttering solemn words, against which nature and reason must rebel--of the degradation of yourself in your own esteem, which must ensue, and must be aggravated every day, as his detested character opens upon you more and more. Shrink from the loathsome companionship of this wretch as you would from corruption and disease. Suffer toil and labour if you will, but shun him, shun him, and be happy. For, believe me, I speak the truth;--the most abject poverty, the most wretched condition of human life, with a pure and upright mind, would be happiness to that which you must undergo as the wife of such a man as this!'
Long before Nicholas ceased to speak, the young lady buried her face in her hands, and gave her tears free way. In a voice at first inarticulate with emotion, but gradually recovering strength as she proceeded, she answered him.