The Adventures of Harry Richmond | Page 8

in this house
while I am here to command,' said the squire.
'Very well; then Harry Richmond changes homes. I take him. The affair
is concluded.'
'You take him from his mother?' the squire sang out.
'You swear to me she has lost her wits; she cannot suffer. I can. I shall
not expect from you, Mr. Beltham, the minutest particle of
comprehension of a father's feelings. You are earthy; you are an
animal.'
The squire saw that he was about to lift the boy, and said, 'Stop, never
mind that. Stop, look at the case. You can call again to-morrow, and
you can see me and talk it over.'
'Shall I see my wife?'

'No, you shan't.'
'You remain faithful to your word, sir, do you?'
'I do.'
'Then I do similarly.'
'What! Stop! Not to take a child like that out of a comfortable house at
night in Winter, man?'
'Oh, the night is temperate and warm; he shall not remain in a house
where his father is dishonoured.'
'Stop! not a bit of it,' cried the squire. 'No one speaks of you. I give you
my word, you 're never mentioned by man, woman or child in the
house.'
'Silence concerning a father insinuates dishonour, Mr. Beltham.'
'Damn your fine speeches, and keep your blackguardly hands off that
boy,' the squire thundered. 'Mind, if you take him, he goes for good. He
doesn't get a penny from me if you have the bringing of him up. You've
done for him, if you decide that way. He may stand here a beggar in a
stolen coat like you, and I won't own him. Here, Harry, come to me;
come to your grandad.'
Mr. Richmond caught the boy just when he was turning to run.
'That gentleman,' he said, pointing to the squire, 'is your grandpapa. I
am your papa. You must learn at any cost to know and love your papa.
If I call for you to-morrow or next day they will have played tricks with
Harry Richmond, and hid him. Mr. Beltham, I request you, for the final
time, to accord me your promise observe, I accept your promise--that I
shall, at my demand, to-morrow or the next day, obtain an interview
with my wife.'
The squire coughed out an emphatic 'Never!' and fortified it with an
oath as he repeated it upon a fuller breath.

'Sir, I will condescend to entreat you to grant this permission,' said Mr.
Richmond, urgently.
'No, never: I won't!' rejoined the squire, red in the face from a fit of
angry coughing. 'I won't; but stop, put down that boy; listen to me, you
Richmond! I'll tell you what I'll do. I 'll--if you swear on a Bible, like a
cadger before a bench of magistrates, you'll never show your face
within a circuit o' ten miles hereabouts, and won't trouble the boy if you
meet him, or my daughter or me, or any one of us-hark ye, I'll do this:
let go the boy, and I'll give ye five hundred--I'll give ye a cheque on my
banker for a thousand pounds; and, hark me out, you do this, you swear,
as I said, on the servants' Bible, in the presence of my butler and me,
"Strike you dead as Ananias and t' other one if you don't keep to it," do
that now, here, on the spot, and I'll engage to see you paid fifty pounds
a year into the bargain. Stop! and I'll pay your debts under two or three
hundred. For God's sake, let go the boy! You shall have fifty guineas
on account this minute. Let go the boy! And your son--there, I call him
your son--your son, Harry Richmond, shall inherit from me; he shall
have Riversley and the best part of my property, if not every bit of it. Is
it a bargain? Will you swear? Don't, and the boy's a beggar, he's a
stranger here as much as you. Take him, and by the Lord, you ruin him.
There now, never mind, stay, down with him. He's got a cold already;
ought to be in his bed; let the boy down!'
'You offer me money,' Mr. Richmond answered.
'That is one of the indignities belonging to a connection with a man like
you. You would have me sell my son. To see my afflicted wife I would
forfeit my heart's yearnings for my son; your money, sir, I toss to the
winds; and I am under the necessity of informing you that I despise and
loathe you. I shrink from the thought of exposing my son to your
besotted selfish example. The boy is mine; I have him, and he shall
traverse the wilderness with me. By heaven! his destiny is brilliant. He
shall be hailed