Part 14

The news of Tom's escape excited universal astonishment, and no means were left untried to trace his footsteps; but every exertion was in vain, and his pursuers were completely at fault. It was universally admitted that some one must have furnished him with the implements that had procured his liberation; and his mother was, as a matter of course, the first one on whom suspicion lighted. The poor old woman, when the fact was announced, was equally amazed and pleased; but she could furnish no clue. Tom had seen a few people in prison, yet it was evident they had nothing to do with the escape. It was at last resolved that the agent was the accessory; but here the good people were at fault again, for no one, except the jailer, remembered having seen him, and he could give but a very imperfect description of him. He might be tall or so--rather think he was, but not sure--wore powder, and had, he believes, a black coat, but did not think he would know him again. This was all that could be elicited.

A reward of fifty pounds was offered by the magistrates for the capture of Tom; and Sir Edward Bruce Vavasour increased it to one hundred and fifty, expressing, at same time, his anxiety that the accused should be retaken.

Whilst all were in a state of excitement, fresh fuel was added to the flame by the following letter, bearing the Liverpool post-mark, which Mrs Vallance received from her son:--

"DEAREST MOTHER,--I am well, and as happy as one unjustly accused can be. Though fate has sundered us, you are ever in my thoughts. I have found a protector--fear not for me. You shall regularly hear from

"Your affectionate son," &c.

Beneath was written:--"Your son will yet be a blessing to you. Accept this trifle." And a twenty pound note was found enclosed.

"What a fool!" said the wise ones, "only to think of letting us know where he is." And, upon the hint, away trotted the officers with a criminal warrant, to be backed, as it is termed, by an English justice in Liverpool, where, to their great vexation, he was not to be found.

Meanwhile, the object of their pursuit was out of all danger. His friend and he at last found themselves on the road to Wooler.

"Tom!" said Mortlake, when they alighted at the inn, "you must pass for my wife. I have everything provided for that purpose in my portmanteau; meanwhile, keep down your veil, and wrap your cloak about you."

He then took out a complete suit of female apparel, and speedily his protegée was metamorphosed into a tall and handsome, although somewhat masculine, female. We need not tire our readers with a detail of the subsequent journey southward, and may only mention that Mortlake left the horse and gig at Wooler, where, obtaining a seat for himself and his companion in the mail, they arrived in safety at Barnet. Here Tom resumed his sex; and, in a new suit of clothes, appeared, as he really was, a good and intelligent looking young man.

From Barnet, the travellers proceeded in a chaise to London, where Mortlake took lodgings, and, after the lapse of a few days, disclosed to the youth his ulterior purposes.

"Mr Vallance!" said he.

"Do not call me 'Mr'--if you do, I shall think I have offended you."

"Well, Tom, then. Listen to what I have to say. You have been my companion now for nearly three weeks. During that time I have studied you, and the opinion I have formed is favourable. You possess good qualities and excellent talents: these have been obscured but not extinguished by your recent follies, not to give them a harsher name. By giving way to passion and using threats, which, from you, were ill-judged and ill-timed, you have barely escaped an ignominious death. Far be it from me to say that the late owner of Merlon was justified in the intemperate language he used; but you know that at times he had no control over himself, and you should have made allowances for what was really a disease. Of your innocence I have not the slightest doubt, otherwise I would never have aided your escape from jail. I think the lesson you have had is one you can never forget; and I prophesy that Thomas Vallance may yet assume that position in society which good conduct and perseverance ever secure."

Tom heard this eulogium, qualified as it was, with great delight. "Try me! O try me, my best friend!--give me an opportunity of evincing, by the propriety of my conduct, how much I feel your benevolence. To please you shall be the study of my future life."

"Well, Tom, you shall have a trial; but you must leave me, and cross the seas. It is not safe for either of us that you remain here."

Tom's countenance fell. "And must I leave _you_--the only being in the world, save my mother, whom I love? but your commands are to me as laws, and they shall be obeyed."

"Well, then--the family with which I am connected have large possessions in Antigua, and there is a wealthy mercantile establishment over which I have no inconsiderable control--so much so, that any recommendation from me or mine will meet with immediate attention. I shall place you there as a clerk; and if you discharge the duties of the office satisfactorily, means shall be afforded of advancing you: in one word, everything shall be made to depend upon your good behaviour. Preparations have already been making for your departure, and I have procured from the senior partner of Mortlake, Tresham, & Co., an order for your appointment, with a letter of recommendation to Mr Tresham, the resident partner, whose good graces I sincerely wish you may acquire."

"Mortlake!--is he a relation of yours?"

"Yes! but you must ask no questions--seek to know nothing beyond what I choose to disclose. You must renounce your name. You will therefore, in future, be known as Thomas Mortlake, the son of a distant relation of mine. Such is the legend that must be circulated. Now, write to your mother. Would to heavens! I could permit an interview, but that cannot be. Give me the letter, sealed if you choose, as I have a particular mode of transmitting it to her; and I wish it to appear, as the former one did, that it came from Liverpool. Be cautious and guarded in what you communicate, but mention that, in future, she shall have such an allowance as will make her easy for life. Now, farewell for a few hours, and be sure to have your letter ready when I return."

Tom was left to his own reflections. The letter to Mrs Vallance was written; and, by the time that Mortlake returned, Tom was sufficiently composed to veil his feelings, and meet him as of old.

"Everything is arranged," said Mortlake; "in a few days you sail from the Thames by the brig _Tresham_. You will have every accommodation afforded that a gentleman can require: a suitable wardrobe is preparing: in short, my dear young friend, you shall appear to these West Indians as their equal, and in such guise as suits the proud name of Mortlake. One thing more, and I have done. The present Baronet of Vavasour has, through his mother, property in Antigua, and is distantly related to the elder partner of the firm. You will, therefore, seem as if you knew him not; and even in regard to myself, I wish little or nothing said. That curiosity will be excited, I doubt not, but I leave you to baffle it."

Time passed with unusual rapidity--so, at least, Mr Thomas Mortlake opined; and the day of his departure having at length arrived, he was not a little startled when his friend made a very early appearance, accompanied by a young lady. Advancing towards him, she said--"Mr Mortlake! I am happy to have had this opportunity of seeing you previous to your departure, and of personally wishing you every success in the calling in which you are about to engage. Your friend has no secrets from me, and I am acquainted with every particular of your singular history."

"Yes!" exclaimed his protector; "I conceal nothing from this lady, and she feels as much interest in you as I do myself. We propose to accompany you to the ship."

Tom felt somewhat confused by this unexpected introduction; but that natural sense of propriety which is inherent in some minds, and which others vainly endeavour to acquire, enabled him to acquit himself in a manner that gave equal satisfaction to both visitors. The party then proceeded to the vessel, where Mortlake and the lady satisfied themselves that due provision had been made for the accommodation of their protegé.

"Mr Mortlake!" said the lady at parting, "I have used the freedom of an old friend, and placed in your cabin a small collection of books, which, I have no doubt, will materially help to deprive your voyage of half its tedium; and, when you arrive at the place of your destination, if you could devote any leisure hours to their study, be assured the benefit will be incalculable."

"Believe me," he answered, "my kind patrons, whatever may be my fate, I never can forget the wondrous acts of kindness that have been lavished on me. If an anxious desire to discharge the duties of my office--if a determination to surmount difficulties, coupled with a firm resolution to act fairly and honourably by my neighbours--can be taken as an earnest of my anxiety to please, on this you may rely; and if my exertions be crowned with success, the pleasure will be doubled when I remember it is all owing to you."

"Tom," said Mr Mortlake, "you are eloquent; but time flies, and we must part."

"I have but one request more--no doubt it is needless. Be kind! O be kind to my poor mother!"

"On that," replied the lady, "you may depend. And now, farewell!"

Tom took her hand, and pressed it respectfully to his lips; then, turning to his friend, tried to give utterance to "farewell!" The word would not pass his lips. Forgetting all difference of rank, he threw his arms around Mortlake's neck, and wept. In a moment, as if ashamed of his freedom, or want of manliness, he hastily withdrew from his embrace.

Mortlake was moved. He pressed the lad affectionately to his breast--"God bless you, my dear fellow; in me you have ever a steady friend. And now, farewell!"

They separated; and years elapsed ere Mortlake and his friend again met.

* * * *

Young Mortlake--for so he must in future be termed--suffered the usual inconveniences of a sea voyage; and if ever his boyish inclination, influenced by a perusal of the fascinating fiction of "Robinson Crusoe," had given him a fancy for the pleasures of a seafaring life, they yielded speedily to the irresistible effects of sea-sickness.

The vessel reached the island in about six weeks, and Tom presented his credentials to Mr Tresham, from whom he met a favourable reception. He had an apartment assigned to him in the house, and was treated as one of the family. To the duties of the counting-house, irksome in the outset, he soon became reconciled. His anxiety to please was not overlooked by his master, who, finding him able and apt, gradually raised both his rank and his salary. Before five years had elapsed, he was head clerk in the establishment. Favourites are not much liked; but Tom bore his honours so meekly, and was so obliging, without being obsequious, that his rise neither excited envy nor surprise--indeed, it was looked upon as a matter of course; and the astonishment would have been, not that he had risen, but that he had not risen in the establishment.

When he first arrived, he was pestered with questions as to birth, parentage, and education. These ordinary, but impertinent queries, he parried with equal good humour and tact. All that could be extracted from him was, that he was protected by Mr Mortlake, and that that was his own name. Mr Tresham, however, put no questions. Sir Edward Vavasour was rarely mentioned. Little was known of him, excepting that several thousands a-year were annually remitted to England as the produce of his estates. Latterly, Tom observed that these returns were made to account of Lord Mortlake. This puzzled him; and, upon a question to Tresham being hazarded, he coldly answered--

"The possessions of Sir Edward Vavasour belong now to Lord Mortlake; but remember the request of your benefactor--to ask no questions."

Other matters of more importance now occupied our hero's mind, and he gave himself no farther thoughts on the subject. The firstfruits of his labour were piously remitted to his mother, through his English correspondent. From her he (through the same channel) learned that Sir Edward Vavasour had given her a nice little cottage and garden, on the Vavasour estate, in England, rent-free, and that she had sold off everything in Merton, as the recollections there were unpleasant--the reason assigned being her former services as housekeeper in the family. No attempt had been made by him to elicit a confession of her son's residence. She farther stated, that she regularly received twenty pounds every half-year from some unknown person; and that she was, therefore, as happy as she could be in the absence of her son.

The letters from his patron were warm and affectionate. Some little presents Tom had ventured to make; and a few of those lovely tropical shells, transmitted to the unknown young lady, were cordially accepted, not so much for their value, as for the indications they afforded of the unabated regard of the giver. Tom devoted a certain portion of each day to study. His early education had been, so far as it went, good; and he was enabled, by severe application, to master the Roman authors, and enjoy their beauties.

The death of his mother, during the fourth year of his residence in the tropics, was a heavy blow to him. He had lived in hopes of coming back to Britain with a fortune sufficient to support her in affluence; but his pious intention was frustrated. One consolation he had, that the kind lady who, with his patron, took such an especial interest in his affairs, had watched over her dying moments, and afforded her every comfort.

In the tenth year of his sojourn, a great revolution in his fortunes took place. One morning, Mr Tresham called him into his private room.

"Mortlake," said he, "you have been now ten years in our service; and, during that time, I have never had cause to find the slightest fault with you. The demise of the senior partner compels me to visit England. Your patron has written me urgently to admit you as a partner; now, although his recommendation must have weight with me, I can assure you that I need no solicitation to do an act of justice. I rejoice, by adding your name to the firm, to show you how much I esteem you, and what unbounded confidence I have in you."

Tom justly felt gratified by this communication. He was grateful for the never-slumbering care of his English patron, and equally so for the personal regard of Tresham, who, having thus removed a considerable portion of the burdens of commerce upon his younger partner, left the island, and safely arrived in London, where, for several months, he was engaged in adjusting the company's accounts, and effecting a settlement with the representatives of the deceased. The business, meanwhile, went on under the name of Tresham, Mortlake, & Co., and was managed with as much prudence and profit by the junior partner as it had previously been by the senior one.

Tresham having realized a fortune, at the age of fifty resolved to return to England to enjoy it. Upon this occasion, his nephew, who had come out sometime after Tom, became a partner; and, just twenty years from the period of his advent, did Thomas Mortlake, Esq., resolve, at the age of thirty-six, to return to his native land, leaving the affairs of the company to be exclusively managed by young Tresham, who was fully adequate to the task.

He embarked in a vessel of the company's; and having had a fair wind, in a few weeks beheld the chalky cliffs of Old Albion. He found his patron and Tresham awaiting his landing, and a carriage ready to bear him away. The meeting was cordial. Twenty years had not affected his patron much. He was about forty-five years of age, but looked perhaps a little younger. There was a dignity about his manner which Tom had never previously remarked; but there was no lack of kindness; on the contrary, it was obvious at a glance that his return was most acceptable to his friend. Nor was Tresham less friendly.

As Tom stepped into the carriage, he was thunderstruck to observe a coat of arms on the panels, with a _baron's_ coronet.

"Bless me, Mr Tresham, have you been raised to the Peerage?"

Tresham smilingly replied--

"Not yet. We don't know, however, what may happen. Irish peerages may be had cheap. The carriage is not mine: it belongs to one of our best customers, Lord Mortlake."

"Bless me!--how kind of his lordship!" was the rejoinder. "Is he, sir, a friend of yours?" turning to his patron.

"I think," was the answer, "I should know him better than most people; but come, tell me how affairs are going on in Antigua."

A desultory conversation followed, which lasted nearly the whole period of their journey. At last the vehicle approached a magnificent baronial seat, through a long avenue of lime trees, then in full blossom.

"Here we are!" said the older Mortlake. Upon leaving the carriage, Tom and his companions entered a spacious hall of the olden time, the proprieties of which had been carefully preserved, and which was pretty much in the same state as it had been during the reign of Elizabeth. Taking Tom by the hand, his friend welcomed him to his family residence, and told him that a lady up stairs--an old friend of his--was waiting to receive him. "But," added he, "you will perhaps require to go to your apartments."

Tom having put himself to rights, was led by Mortlake to the drawing-room, where he beheld his mysterious female visitant and a young lady of about nineteen, who, from her resemblance, it was not difficult to discover was the daughter of his host. Two fine-looking aristocratic lads, the one aged perhaps sixteen, and the other nearly eighteen, were standing beside their sister, chatting and laughing with Mr Tresham.

The lady rose to receive her guest, when Tresham interposing, exclaimed:--

"Allow me--Lady Mortlake, Mr Mortlake; Mr Mortlake, Lady Mortlake."

Tom was confused, certainly; but his good manners did not forsake him, and he expressed his gratification at again beholding the lady, in appropriate and feeling terms.

"Mr Mortlake," said she, "I am happy--very happy--to receive you at Vavasour, which, I trust, you will consider as your home." Turning to her daughter--"Emily, my love, this is Mr Mortlake, whom you have heard your father and myself talk of so frequently." He was then introduced to the sons, by whom he was received with equal kindness. His patron next took Tom aside.

"The mystery," said he, "will soon be explained; in me you behold Lord Mortlake; but, on that account, not less your sincere friend. No one, not even Tresham, but believes you to be a relation of the family, except Lady Mortlake and myself; so be collected, and assume a character which, some day or other, I hope confidently may be yours legally."

The latter words sounded strangely in our hero's ears; but this was a day of wonders, and when they were to end he could not conjecture.

"Sir Edward Vavasour?" he whispered.

"Is no more!" was the reply.

A week passed happily, and Mortlake, in the society he esteemed and respected, was superlatively blessed. One morning after breakfast, Lord Mortlake took him into the library, and, locking the door, bade him be seated.

"Mortlake," said his lordship, "the time for explanation is at hand; it ought not any longer to be delayed; but, before disclosing much that may astonish you, be assured that I make the disclosure without seeking any pledge of secrecy from you. I shall leave it entirely to yourself, when you have heard all, to take what course you may judge expedient."

"My Lord! do not think so meanly of the creature of your bounty as to suppose that, whatever may be the nature of your communication, I shall ever use it to your prejudice."

"Make no rash promises, Mr Mortlake. Here me, and decide. I told you Sir Edward Vavasour was no more and yet he is only so in one sense--his title is merged in a higher one: he is now Lord Mortlake!"

"Gracious Providence! Sir Edward Vavasour Lord Mortlake? Can it be possible?"

"It _is_ possible; Lord Mortlake is before you. But hear me out. You are probably aware that the late Sir Thomas Vavasour had a younger brother Richard; and it has perhaps come to your knowledge that he was married to Miss Mortlake, a lady of birth and fortune, the daughter of an extensive proprietor in Antigua. Mrs Vavasour was a Creole by birth, and a woman of violent passions. Her husband led a very unenviable life--but let me pass that over. Of that marriage I was the sole offspring, and was named heir by my grandfather to his large estates, after the demise of my parents. This equitable arrangement of his property created a prejudice in my mother's mind against me, as she could not brook the idea of being interfered with in the use of that which she thought she was entitled to enjoy without control. When my father died, I was placed under the superintendence of my uncle, Sir Thomas, who, himself a proud and passionate man, had a great contempt for his equally proud and passionate sister-in-law; hence a new seed of enmity was sown.

"My mother wished to make a fine gentleman of me: my uncle detested the whole tribe of 'puppies,' and determined to make a man of me. He carefully provided for my education; and, at the proper time, sent me to the Temple, where I studied jurisprudence for a few years with considerable success. The heir of a large estate, my uncle never wished me to do more than acquire habits of industry and application. My mother did all she could to unsettle me--but in vain. I had a will of my own, and was by no means disposed to be come her vassal.