Cecilia; Or, Memoirs of an Heiress. Volume 1

She would then have quitted him, not more shocked at his situation, than indignant at the wilful extravagance which had occasioned it.

“Stay,” cried he, “and hear me!” then, lowering his voice, “seek out,” he continued, “your unfortunate friend,—go to the poor ruined Priscilla,—prepare her for tidings of horror! and do not, though you renounce Me, do not abandon Her!”

Then, fiercely passing her, he was himself leaving the room; but Cecilia, alarmed by the fury of his manner, called out, “What is it you mean? what tidings of horror? whither are you going?”

“To hell!” cried he, and rushed out of the apartment.

Cecilia screamed aloud, and conjuring him to hear her, ran after him; he paid her no regard, but, flying faster than she had power to pursue, reached his own dressing-room, shut himself into it with violence, and just as she arrived at the door, turned the key, and bolted it.

Her terror was now inexpressible; she believed him in the very act of suicide, and her refusal of assistance seemed the signal for the deed: her whole fortune, at that moment, was valueless and unimportant to her, compared with the preservation of a fellow-creature: she called out with all the vehemence of agony to beg he would open the door, and eagerly promised by all that was sacred to do everything in her power to save him.

At these words he opened it; his face was totally without colour, and he grasped a razor in his hand.

“You have stopt me,” said he, in a voice scarce audible, “at the very moment I had gathered courage for the blow: but if indeed you will assist me, I will shut this up,—if not, I will steep it in my blood!”

“I will! I will!” cried Cecilia, “I will do every thing you desire!”

“And quickly?”

“Immediately.”

“Before my disgrace is known? and while all may yet be hushed up?”

“Yes, yes! all—any—every thing you wish!”

“Swear, then!”

Here Cecilia drew back; her recollection returned as her terror abated, and her repugnance to entering into an engagement for she knew not what, with a man whose actions she condemned, and whose principles she abhorred, made all her fright now give way to indignation, and, after a short pause, she angrily answered, “No, Sir, I will not swear!—but yet, all that is reasonable, all that is friendly—”

“Hear me swear, then!” interrupted he, furiously, “which at this moment I do, by every thing eternal, and by every thing infernal, that I will not outlive the seizure of my property, and that the moment I am informed there is an execution in my house, shall be the last of my existence!”

“What cruelty! what compulsion! what impiety!” cried Cecilia: “give me, however, that horrible instrument, and prescribe to me what conditions you please.”

A noise was now heard below stairs, at which Cecilia, who had not dared call for help lest he should quicken his desperation, was secretly beginning to rejoice, when, starting at the sound, he exclaimed, “I believe you are too late!—the ruffians have already seized my house!” then, endeavouring to force her out of the room, “Go,” he cried, “to my wife;—I want to be alone!”

“Oh give me first,” cried she, “that weapon, and I will take what oath you please!”

“No, no!—go,—leave me,—” cried he, almost breathless with emotion, “I must not now be trifled with.”

“I do not trifle! indeed I do not!” cried Cecilia, holding by his arm: “try, put me to the proof!”

“Swear, solemnly swear, to empty my house of these creditors this moment!”

“I do swear,” cried she, with energy, “and Heaven prosper me as I am sincere!”

“I see, I see you are an angel!” cried he, rapturously, “and as such I worship and adore you! O you have restored me to life, and rescued me from perdition!”

“Give me, then, that fatal instrument!”

“That instrument,” returned he, “is nothing, since so many others are in my power; but you have now taken from me all desire of using them. Go, then, and stop those wretches from coming to me,—send immediately for the Jew!—he will advance what money you please,—my man knows where to find him; consult with Mr Arnott,—speak a word of comfort to Priscilla,—but do nothing, nothing at all, till you have cleared my house of those cursed scoundrels!”

Cecilia, whose heart sunk within her at the solemn promise she had given, the mention of the Jew, and the arduous task she had undertaken, quitted him without reply, and was going to her own room, to compose her hurried spirits, and consider what steps she had to take, when hearing the noise in the hall grow louder, she stopt to listen, and catching some words that greatly alarmed her, went half way down stairs, when she was met by Davison, Mr Harrel’s man, of whom she enquired into the occasion of the disturbance.

He answered that he must go immediately to his master, for the bailiffs were coming into the house.

“Let him not know it if you value his life!” cried she, with new terror. “Where is Mr Arnott? call him to me,—beg him to come this moment;—I will wait for him here.”

The man flew to obey her; and Cecilia, finding she had time neither for deliberation nor regret, and dreading lest Mr Harrel, by hearing of the arrival of the bailiffs, should relapse into despair, determined to call to her aid all the courage, prudence, and judgment she possessed, and, since to act she was compelled, endeavour with her best ability, to save his credit, and retrieve his affairs.

The moment Mr Arnott came, she ordered Davison to hasten to his master, and watch his motions.

Then, addressing Mr Arnott, “Will you. Sir,” she said, “go and tell those people that if they will instantly quit the house, every thing shall be settled, and Mr Harrel will satisfy their demands?”

“Ah madam!” cried Mr Arnott, mournfully, “and how? he has no means to pay them, and I have none—without ruin to myself,—to help him!”

“Send them but away,” said Cecilia, “and I will myself be your security that your promise shall not be disgraced.”

“Alas, madam,” cried he, “what are you doing? well as I wish to Mr Harrel, miserable as I am for my unfortunate sister, I yet cannot bear that such goodness, such beneficence should be injured!”

Cecilia, however, persisted, and with evident reluctance he obeyed her.

While she waited his return, Davison came from Mr Harrel, who had ordered him to run instantly for the Jew.

Good Heaven, thought Cecilia, that a man so wretchedly selfish and worldly, should dare, with all his guilt upon his head,

To rush unlicenced on eternity![2 - Mason’s Elfrida]

Mr Arnott was more than half an hour with the people; and when, at last, he returned, his countenance immediately proclaimed the ill success of his errand. The creditors, he said, declared they had so frequently been deceived, that they would not dismiss the bailiffs, or retire themselves, without actual payment.

“Tell them, then, Sir,” said Cecilia, “to send me their accounts, and, if it be possible, I will discharge them directly.”

Mr Arnott’s eyes were filled with tears at this declaration, and he protested, be the consequence to himself what it might, he would pay away every shilling he was worth, rather than witness such injustice.

“No,” cried Cecilia, exerting more spirit, that she might shock him less, “I did not save Mr Harrel, to destroy so much better a man! you have suffered but too much oppression already; the present evil is mine; and from me, at least, none I hope will ever spread to Mr Arnott.”

Mr Arnott could not bear this; he was struck with grief, with admiration, and with gratitude, and finding his tears now refused to be restrained, he went to execute her commission in silent dejection.

The dejection, however, was encreased, though his tears were dispersed, when he returned; “Oh madam!” he cried, “all your efforts, generous as they are, will be of no avail! the bills even now in the house amount to more than L7000!”

Cecilia, amazed and confounded, started and clasped her hands, calling out, “What must I do! to what have I bound myself! and how can I answer to my conscience,—to my successors, such a disposal, such an abuse of so large a part of my fortune!”

Mr Arnott could make no answer; and they stood looking at each other in silent irresolution, till Davison brought intelligence that the Jew was already come, and waited to speak with her.

“And what can I say to him?” cried she, more and more agitated; “I understand nothing of usury; how am I to deal with him?”

Mr Arnott then confessed that he should himself have instantly been bail for his brother, but that his fortune, originally not large, was now so much impaired by the many debts which from time to time he had paid for him, that as he hoped some day to have a family of his own, he dare not run a risk by which he might be utterly ruined, and the less, as his sister had at Violet Bank been prevailed upon to give up her settlement.

This account, which explained the late uneasiness of Mrs Harrel, still encreased the distress of Cecilia; and every moment she obtained for reflection, augmented her reluctance to parting with so large a sum of money for so worthless an object, and added strength to her resentment for the unjustifiable menaces which had extorted from her such a promise. Yet not an instant would she listen to Mr Arnott’s offer of fulfilling her engagement, and charged him, as he considered her own self-esteem worth her keeping, not to urge to her a proposal so ungenerous and selfish.