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  CHAPTER XLV.

  SOME PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF MR. EMILIUS.

  The writer of this chronicle is not allowed to imagine that any ofhis readers have read the wonderful and vexatious adventures of LadyEustace, a lady of good birth, of high rank, and of large fortune,who, but a year or two since, became almost a martyr to a diamondnecklace which was stolen from her. With her history the presentreader has but small concern, but it may be necessary that he shouldknow that the lady in question, who had been a widow with manysuitors, at last gave her hand and her fortune to a clergyman whosename was Joseph Emilius. Mr. Emilius, though not an Englishman bybirth,--and, as was supposed, a Bohemian Jew in the earlier days ofhis career,--had obtained some reputation as a preacher in London,and had moved,--if not in fashionable circles,--at any rate incircles so near to fashion as to be brought within the reach of LadyEustace's charms. They were married, and for some few months Mr.Emilius enjoyed a halcyon existence, the delights of which were,perhaps, not materially marred by the necessity which he felt ofsubjecting his young wife to marital authority. "My dear," he wouldsay, "you will know me better soon, and then things will be smooth."In the meantime he drew more largely upon her money than was pleasingto her and to her friends, and appeared to have requirements forcash which were both secret and unlimited. At the end of twelvemonths Lady Eustace had run away from him, and Mr. Emilius had madeovertures, by accepting which his wife would be enabled to purchasehis absence at the cost of half her income. The arrangement was notregarded as being in every respect satisfactory, but Lady Eustacedeclared passionately that any possible sacrifice would be preferableto the company of Mr. Emilius. There had, however, been a rumourbefore her marriage that there was still living in his old country aMrs. Emilius when he married Lady Eustace; and, though it had beensupposed by those who were most nearly concerned with Lady Eustacethat this report had been unfounded and malicious, nevertheless, whenthe man's claims became so exorbitant, reference was again made tothe charge of bigamy. If it could be proved that Mr. Emilius had awife living in Bohemia, a cheaper mode of escape would be found forthe persecuted lady than that which he himself had suggested.

  It had happened that, since her marriage with Mr. Emilius, LadyEustace had become intimate with our Mr. Bonteen and his wife. Shehad been at one time engaged to marry Lord Fawn, one of Mr. Bonteen'scolleagues, and during the various circumstances which had led to thedisruption of that engagement, this friendship had been formed. Itmust be understood that Lady Eustace had a most desirable residenceof her own in the country,--Portray Castle in Scotland,--and thatit was thought expedient by many to cultivate her acquaintance.She was rich, beautiful, and clever; and, though her marriage withMr. Emilius had never been looked upon as a success, still, in theestimation of some people, it added an interest to her career. TheBonteens had taken her up, and now both Mr. and Mrs. Bonteen werehot in pursuit of evidence which might prove Mr. Emilius to be abigamist.

  When the disruption of conjugal relations was commenced, Lady Eustacesucceeded in obtaining refuge at Portray Castle without the presenceof her husband. She fled from London during a visit he made toBrighton with the object of preaching to a congregation by which hiseloquence was held in great esteem. He left London in one directionby the 5 P.M. express train on Saturday, and she in the other by thelimited mail at 8.45. A telegram, informing him of what had takenplace, reached him the next morning at Brighton while he was atbreakfast. He preached his sermon, charming the congregation by thegraces of his extempore eloquence,--moving every woman there totears,--and then was after his wife before the ladies had taken theirfirst glass of sherry at luncheon. But her ladyship had twenty-fourhours' start of him,--although he did his best; and when he reachedPortray Castle the door was shut in his face. He endeavoured toobtain the aid of blacksmiths to open, as he said, his own halldoor,--to obtain the aid of constables to compel the blacksmiths, ofmagistrates to compel the constables,--and even of a judge to compelthe magistrates; but he was met on every side by a statement thatthe lady of the castle declared that she was not his wife, and thattherefore he had no right whatever to demand that the door shouldbe opened. Some other woman,--so he was informed that the ladysaid,--out in a strange country was really his wife. It was herintention to prove him to be a bigamist, and to have him locked up.In the meantime she chose to lock herself up in her own mansion. Suchwas the nature of the message that was delivered to him through thebars of the lady's castle.

  How poor Lady Eustace was protected, and, at the same time, mademiserable by the energy and unrestrained language of one of herown servants, Andrew Gowran by name, it hardly concerns us now toinquire. Mr. Emilius did not succeed in effecting an entrance; but heremained for some time in the neighbourhood, and had notices servedon the tenants in regard to the rents, which puzzled the poor folkround Portray Castle very much. After a while Lady Eustace, findingthat her peace and comfort imperatively demanded that she shouldprove the allegations which she had made, fled again from PortrayCastle to London, and threw herself into the hands of the Bonteens.This took place just as Mr. Bonteen's hopes in regard to theChancellorship of the Exchequer were beginning to soar high, and whenhis hands were very full of business. But with that energy for whichhe was so conspicuous, Mr. Bonteen had made a visit to Bohemia duringhis short Christmas holidays, and had there set people to work. Whenat Prague he had, he thought, very nearly unravelled the secrethimself. He had found the woman whom he believed to be Mrs. Emilius,and who was now living somewhat merrily in Prague under another name.She acknowledged that in old days, when they were both young, shehad been acquainted with a certain Yosef Mealyus, at a time inwhich he had been in the employment of a Jewish moneylender in thecity; but,--as she declared,--she had never been married to him.Mr. Bonteen learned also that the gentleman now known as Mr. JosephEmilius of the London Chapel had been known in his own country asYosef Mealyus, the name which had been borne by the very respectableJew who was his father. Then Mr. Bonteen had returned home, and, aswe all know, had become engaged in matters of deeper import than eventhe deliverance of Lady Eustace from her thraldom.

  Mr. Emilius made no attempt to obtain the person of his wife whileshe was under Mr. Bonteen's custody, but he did renew his offerto compromise. If the estate could not afford to give him the twothousand a year which he had first demanded, he would take fifteenhundred. He explained all this personally to Mr. Bonteen, whocondescended to see him. He was very eager to make Mr. Bonteenunderstand how bad even then would be his condition. Mr. Bonteen was,of course, aware that he would have to pay very heavily for insuringhis wife's life. He was piteous, argumentative, and at first gentle;but when Mr. Bonteen somewhat rashly told him that the evidenceof a former marriage and of the present existence of the formerwife would certainly be forthcoming, he defied Mr. Bonteen and hisevidence,--and swore that if his claims were not satisfied, he wouldmake use of the power which the English law gave him for the recoveryof his wife's person. And as to her property,--it was his, not hers.From this time forward if she wanted to separate herself from him shemust ask him for an allowance. Now, it certainly was the case thatLady Eustace had married the man without any sufficient precaution asto keeping her money in her own hands, and Mr. Emilius had insistedthat the rents of the property which was hers for her life shouldbe paid to him, and on his receipt only. The poor tenants had beennoticed this way and noticed that till they had begun to doubtwhether their safest course would not be to keep their rents in theirown hands. But lately the lawyers of the Eustace family,--who werenot, indeed, very fond of Lady Eustace personally,--came forward forthe sake of the property, and guaranteed the tenants against allproceedings until the question of the legality of the marriage shouldbe settled. So Mr. Emilius,--or the Reverend Mealyus, as everybodynow called him,--went to law; and Lady Eustace went to law; and theEustace family went to law;--but still, as yet, no evidence wasforthcoming sufficient to enable Mr. Bonteen, as the lady's friend,to put the gentleman into prison.

  It was said for a while tha
t Mealyus had absconded. After hisinterview with Mr. Bonteen he certainly did leave England and madea journey to Prague. It was thought that he would not return, andthat Lady Eustace would be obliged to carry on the trial, which wasto liberate her and her property, in his absence. She was told thatthe very fact of his absence would go far with a jury, and she wasglad to be freed from his presence in England. But he did return,declaring aloud that he would have his rights. His wife should bemade to put herself into his hands, and he would obtain possessionof the income which was his own. People then began to doubt. It wasknown that a very clever lawyer's clerk had been sent to Prague tocomplete the work there which Mr. Bonteen had commenced. But theclerk did not come back as soon as was expected, and news arrivedthat he had been taken ill. There was a rumour that he had beenpoisoned at his hotel; but, as the man was not said to be dead,people hardly believed the rumour. It became necessary, however, tosend another lawyer's clerk, and the matter was gradually progressingto a very interesting complication.

  Mr. Bonteen, to tell the truth, was becoming sick of it. WhenEmilius, or Mealyus, was supposed to have absconded, Lady Eustaceleft Mr. Bonteen's house, and located herself at one of the largeLondon hotels; but when the man came back, bolder than ever, sheagain betook herself to the shelter of Mr. Bonteen's roof. Sheexpressed the most lavish affection for Mrs. Bonteen, and professedto regard Mr. Bonteen as almost a political god, declaring herconviction that he, and he alone, as Prime Minister, could save thecountry, and became very loud in her wrath when he was robbed of hisseat in the Cabinet. Lizzie Eustace, as her ladyship had always beencalled, was a clever, pretty, coaxing little woman, who knew how tomake the most of her advantages. She had not been very wise in herlife, having lost the friends who would have been truest to her, andconfided in persons who had greatly injured her. She was neithertrue of heart or tongue, nor affectionate, nor even honest. But shewas engaging; she could flatter; and could assume a reverentialadmiration which was very foreign to her real character. In thesedays she almost worshipped Mr. Bonteen, and could never be happyexcept in the presence of her dearest darling friend Mrs. Bonteen.Mr. Bonteen was tired of her, and Mrs. Bonteen was becoming almostsick of the constant kisses with which she was greeted; but LizzieEustace had got hold of them, and they could not turn her off.

  "You saw The People's Banner, Mrs. Bonteen, on Monday?" LadyEustace had been reading the paper in her friend's drawing-room."They seem to think that Mr. Bonteen must be Prime Minister beforelong."

  "They seem to think that Mr. Bonteen must bePrime Minister."]

  "I don't think he expects that, my dear."

  "Why not? Everybody says The People's Banner is the cleverest paperwe have now. I always hated the very name of that Phineas Finn."

  "Did you know him?"

  "Not exactly. He was gone before my time; but poor Lord Fawn used totalk of him. He was one of those conceited Irish upstarts that arenever good for anything."

  "Very handsome, you know," said Mrs. Bonteen.

  "Was he? I have heard it said that a good many ladies admired him."

  "It was quite absurd; with Lady Laura Kennedy it was worse thanabsurd. And there was Lady Glencora, and Violet Effingham, whomarried Lady Laura's brother, and that Madame Goesler, whom Ihate,--and ever so many others."

  "And is it true that it was he who got Mr. Bonteen so shamefullyused?"

  "It was his faction."

  "I do so hate that kind of thing," said Lady Eustace, with righteousindignation; "I used to hear a great deal about Government and allthat when the affair was on between me and poor Lord Fawn, and thatkind of dishonesty always disgusted me. I don't know that I think somuch of Mr. Gresham after all."

  "He is a very weak man."

  "His conduct to Mr. Bonteen has been outrageous; and if he has doneit just because that Duchess of Omnium has told him, I really dothink that he is not fit to rule the nation. As for Mr. Phineas Finn,it is dreadful to think that a creature like that should be able tointerfere with such a man as Mr. Bonteen."

  This was on Wednesday afternoon,--the day on which members ofParliament dine out,--and at that moment Mr. Bonteen entered thedrawing-room, having left the House for his half-holiday at sixo'clock. Lady Eustace got up, and gave him her hand, and smiled uponhim as though he were indeed her god. "You look so tired and soworried, Mr. Bonteen."

  "Worried;--I should think so."

  "Is there anything fresh?" asked his wife.

  "That fellow Finn is spreading all manner of lies about me."

  "What lies, Mr. Bonteen?" asked Lady Eustace. "Not new lies, I hope."

  "It all comes from Carlton Terrace." The reader may perhaps rememberthat the young Duchess of Omnium lived in Carlton Terrace. "I cantrace it all there. I won't stand it if it goes on like this. Aclique of stupid women to take up the cudgels for a coal-heavingsort of fellow like that, and sting one like a lot of hornets! Wouldyou believe it?--the Duke almost refused to speak to me just now--aman for whom I have been working like a slave for the last twelvemonths!"

  "I would not stand it," said Lady Eustace.

  "By the bye, Lady Eustace, we have had news from Prague."

  "What news?" said she, clasping her hands.

  "That fellow Pratt we sent out is dead."

  "No!"

  "Not a doubt but what he was poisoned; but they seem to think thatnothing can be proved. Coulson is on his way out, and I shouldn'twonder if they served him the same."

  "And it might have been you!" said Lady Eustace, taking hold of herfriend's arm with almost frantic affection.

  Yes, indeed. It might have been the lot of Mr. Bonteen to have diedat Prague--to have been poisoned by the machinations of the formerMrs. Mealyus, if such really had been the fortune of the unfortunateMr. Pratt. For he had been quite as busy at Prague as his successorin the work. He had found out much, though not everything. Itcertainly had been believed that Yosef Mealyus was a married man,but he had brought the woman with him to Prague, and had certainlynot married her in the city. She was believed to have come fromCracow, and Mr. Bonteen's zeal on behalf of his friend had not beensufficient to carry him so far East. But he had learned from varioussources that the man and woman had been supposed to be married,--thatshe had borne the man's name, and that he had taken upon himselfauthority as her husband. There had been written communications withCracow, and information was received that a man of the name of YosefMealyus had been married to a Jewess in that town. But this hadbeen twenty years ago, and Mr. Emilius professed himself to be onlythirty-five years old, and had in his possession a document from hissynagogue professing to give a record of his birth, proving such tobe his age. It was also ascertained that Mealyus was a name commonat Cracow, and that there were very many of the family in Galicia.Altogether the case was full of difficulty, but it was thought thatMr. Bonteen's evidence would be sufficient to save the property fromthe hands of the cormorant, at any rate till such time as betterevidence of the first marriage could be obtained. It had been hopedthat when the man went away he would not return; but he had returned,and it was now resolved that no terms should be kept with him and nopayment offered to him. The house at Portray was kept barred, and theservants were ordered not to admit him. No money was to be paid tohim, and he was to be left to take any proceedings at law which hemight please,--while his adversaries were proceeding against him withall the weapons at their disposal. In the meantime his chapel was ofcourse deserted, and the unfortunate man was left penniless in theworld.

  Various opinions prevailed as to Mr. Bonteen's conduct in the matter.Some people remembered that during the last autumn he and his wifehad stayed three months at Portray Castle, and declared that thefriendship between them and Lady Eustace had been very useful. Ofthese malicious people it seemed to be, moreover, the opinion thatthe connection might become even more useful if Mr. Emilius could bedischarged. It was true that Mrs. Bonteen had borrowed a little moneyfrom Lady Eustace, but of this her husband knew nothing till the Jewin his wrath made the thing public. Afte
r all it had only been apoor L25, and the money had been repaid before Mr. Bonteen took hisjourney to Prague. Mr. Bonteen was, however, unable to deny that thecost of that journey was defrayed by Lady Eustace, and it was thoughtmean in a man aspiring to be Chancellor of the Exchequer to have histravelling expenses paid for him by a lady. Many, however, were ofopinion that Mr. Bonteen had been almost romantic in his friendship,and that the bright eyes of Lady Eustace had produced upon thisdragon of business the wonderful effect that was noticed. Be that asit may, now, in the terrible distress of his mind at the politicalaspect of the times, he had become almost sick of Lady Eustace, andwould gladly have sent her away from his house had he known how to doso without incurring censure.