away as my gaoler. I will not go with
you, mother; I will go as no one's prisoner. If I wanted to deceive, do
you think I could find no means of evading you? My family suspects me.
As those mistrust me that ought to love me most, let me leave them; I
will go, but I will go alone: to Castlewood, be it. I have been unhappy
there and lonely enough; let me go back, but spare me at least the
humiliation of setting a watch over my misery, which is a trial I can't
bear. Let me go when you will, but alone, or not at all. You three can
stay and triumph over my unhappiness, and I will bear it as I have borne
it before. Let my gaoler-in-chief go order the coach that is to take me
away. I thank you, Henry Esmond, for your share in the conspiracy. All
my life long I'll thank you, and remember you, and you, brother, and
you, mother, how shall I show my gratitude to you for your careful
defence of my honor?"
She swept out of the room with the air of an empress, flinging glances
of defiance at us all, and leaving us conquerors of the field, but
scared, and almost ashamed of our victory. It did indeed seem hard and
cruel that we three should have conspired the banishment and humiliation
of that fair creature. We looked at each other in silence: 'twas not the
first stroke by many of our actions in that unlucky time, which, being
done, we wished undone. We agreed it was best she should go alone,
speaking stealthily to one another, and under our breaths, like persons
engaged in an act they felt ashamed in doing.
In a half-hour, it might be, after our talk she came back, her
countenance wearing the same defiant air which it had borne when
she left us. She held a shagreen-case in her hand; Esmond knew it as
containing his diamonds which he had given to her for her marriage with
Duke Hamilton, and which she had worn so splendidly on the inauspicious
night of the Prince's arrival. "I have brought back," says she, "to
the Marquis of Esmond the present he deigned to make me in days when he
trusted me better than now. I will never accept a benefit or a kindness
from Henry Esmond more, and I give back these family diamonds, which
belonged to one king's mistress, to the gentleman that suspected I would
be another. Have you been upon your message of coach-caller, my Lord
Marquis? Will you send your valet to see that I do not run away?" We
were right, yet, by her manner, she had put us all in the wrong; we
were conquerors, yet the honors of the d
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