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<h2> CHAPTER XIV. The private Cabinet of Sir Giles Mompesson. </h2>
<p>A small room, and rendered yet smaller by the numerous chests and strong
boxes encroaching upon its narrow limits. In some cases these boxes are
piled, one upon another, till they touch the ceiling. All of them look
stout enough, yet many are further strengthened by iron hoops and
broad-headed nails, and secured by huge padlocks. The door is cased with
iron, within and without, and has a ponderous lock, of which the master of
the room always keeps the key, and never trusts it out of his own hand.</p>
<p>This small chamber is the private cabinet of Sir Giles Mompesson.</p>
<p>No one is permitted to enter it without him. Though his myrmidons are
fully aware of its existence, and can give a shrewd guess at its contents,
only two of them have set foot within it. The two thus privileged are
Clement Lanyere and Lupo Vulp. Neither the promoter nor the scrivener are
much in the habit of talking over their master's affairs, even with their
comrades, and are almost as habitually reserved as he is himself; still,
from the few words let fall by them from time to time, the myrmidons have
picked up a tolerable notion of the private cabinet, of its hidden
cupboards in the walls, its drawers with secret springs; its sliding
planks with hollows beneath them; its chests full of treasure, or what is
the same thing as treasure, bonds, mortgage-deeds, and other securities;
and its carefully concealed hoards of plate, jewels, and other valuables.
Some of the least scrupulous among them—such as Staring, Hugh,
Cutting Dick, and old Tom Wootton—have often discussed the
possibility of secretly visiting it, and making a perquisition of its
stores; but they have been hitherto restrained by their fears of their
terrible and vindictive master.</p>
<p>On looking into the cabinet we find Sir Giles seated at a table, with a
large chest open beside him, from which he has taken for examination
sundry yellow parchments, with large seals attached to them. He is now
occupied with a deed, on one of the skins of which the plan of an
important estate is painted, and on this his attention becomes fixed. His
countenance is cadaverous, and its ghastly hue adds to its grimness of
expression. A band is tied round his head, and there is an expression of
pain in his face, and an air of languor and debility in his manner, very
different from what is usual with him. It is plain he has not yet
recovered from the effects of the crushing blow he received at the jousts.</p>
<p>Opposite him sits his partner, Sir Francis Mitchell; and the silence that
has reigned between them for some minutes is first broken by the old
usurer.</p>
<p>"Well, Sir Giles," he inquires, "are you satisfied with your examination
of these deeds of the Mounchensey property? The estates have been in the
family, as you see, for upwards of two centuries—ever since the
reign of Henry IV., in fact—and you have a clear and undisputed
title to all the property depicted on that plan—to an old hall with
a large park around it, eight miles in circumference, and almost as well
stocked with deer as the royal chase of Theobald's; and you have a title
to other territorial domains extending from Mounchensey Place and Park to
the coast, a matter of twelve miles as the crow flies, Sir Giles,—and
including three manors and a score of little villages. Will not these
content you? Methinks they should. I' faith, my worthy partner, when I
come to reckon up all your possessions, your houses and lands, and your
different sources of revenue—the sums owing to you in bond and
mortgage—your monopolies and your patents—when I reckon up all
these, I say, and add thereunto the wealth hoarded in this cabinet, which
you have not placed out at usance—I do not hesitate to set you down
as one of the richest of my acquaintance. There be few whose revenue is so
large as yours, Sir Giles. 'Tis strange, though I have had the same chance
as yourself of making money, I have not a hundredth part of your wealth."</p>
<p>"Not a whit strange," replied Sir Giles, laying down the deed and
regarding his partner somewhat contemptuously. "I waste not what I
acquire. I have passions as well as yourself, Sir Francis; but I keep them
under subjection. I drink not—I riot not—I shun all idle
company. I care not for outward show, or for the vanities of dress. I have
only one passion which I indulge,—Revenge. You are a slave to
sensuality, and pamper your lusts at any cost. Let a fair woman please
your eye, and she must be bought, be the price what it may. No court
prodigal was ever more licentious or extravagant than you are."</p>
<p>"Sir Giles! Sir Giles! I pray you, spare me. My enemies could not report
worse of me."</p>
<p>"Nay, your enemies would say that your extravagance is your sole merit,
and that therein you are better than I," rejoined Sir Giles, with a
sardonic laugh. "But I rejoice to think I am free from all such
weaknesses. The veriest enchantress could not tempt me. I am proof against
all female seductions. Think you the damsel lives who could induce me to
give for her half these broad lands in Norfolk—this ancient hall,
and its wide-spread domains? I trow not."</p>
<p>"Perchance I have given too much," cried the old usurer, eagerly; "if so,
it is not too late to amend our contract. Between us, there should be fair
dealing, Sir Giles."</p>
<p>"There is none other than fair dealing on my part," replied the
extortioner sternly; "and the terms of our agreement cannot be departed
from. What I have just said applies to your general mode of life; but you
have better reason for your conduct in this instance than is usual with
you, since you combine the gratification of revenge with the indulgence of
your other passions. You obtain a fair young bride, and at the same time
deprive the person whom you hate most of all others, of the mistress of
his affections. This is as it should be. Vengeance cannot be too dearly
purchased, and the more refined the vengeance, the higher must necessarily
be the price paid for it. In no way can you so cruelly injure this
detested Mounchensey, as by robbing him of his mistress. And the blow
dealt by you, shall be followed by others not less severe on my part."</p>
<p>"Ay, ay, Sir Giles, you have to wipe out the outrage he inflicted upon you
in the tilt-yard. As I am a true gentleman, that was worse than the
indignity I endured from him in the court-yard of the palace. It must be
confessed that the villain hath a powerful hand as well as a sharp tongue,
and follows up his bitter words by bold deeds. The stroke he dealt you
with his sword was like a blow from a sledge hammer, Sir Giles. He felled
you from your horse as a butcher felleth an ox; and, in good truth, I at
first thought the ox's fate had been yours, and that you would never rise
again. Your helmet was dinted in as if by a great shot. And for twelve
hours and upwards you were senseless and speechless;—But thanks to
my care and the skill of Luke Hatton the apothecary who tended you, you
have been brought round. After such treatment, I cannot wonder that you
are eager for revenge upon Sir Jocelyn. How will you deal with him Sir
Giles? How will you deal with him?"</p>
<p>"I will hurl him from the proud position he now holds," replied the other,
"and immure him in the Fleet."</p>
<p>"While I revel in the bliss he panted to enjoy," cried the old usurer,
chuckling. "Take it altogether, 'tis the sweetest scheme we ever planned,
and the most promising, Sir Giles! But when am I to claim Aveline? when
shall I make her mine?"</p>
<p>"You shall claim her to-morrow, and wed her as soon after as you list."</p>
<p>"Nay, there shall be no delay on my part, Sir Giles. I am all impatience.
When such a dainty repast is spread out before me, I am not likely to be a
laggard. But now, to the all-important point on which the whole affair
hinges! How am I to assert my claim to her hand—how enforce it when
made? Explain that to me, Sir Giles, I beseech you."</p>
<p>"Readily," replied the extortioner. "But before doing so let me give you a
piece of information which will surprise you, and which will show you that
my tenure of this great Norfolk property is not quite so secure as you
suppose it. You are aware that Sir Ferdinando Mounchensey had a younger
brother, Osmond—"</p>
<p>"Who disappeared when very young, and died, it was concluded," interrupted
Sir Francis, "for he was never heard of more. And it was lucky for us he
did so die, or he might have proved a serious obstacle to our seizure of
these estates, for I remember it being stated at the time, by one of the
judges, that had he been living, he might have procured a reversal of the
Star-Chamber sentence upon Sir Ferdinando in his favour."</p>
<p>"Precisely so, and that judge's opinion was correct," said Sir Giles. "Now
listen to me, Sir Francis. It is quite true that Osmond Mounchensey
quitted his home when very young, owing to some family quarrel; but it is
not true that he died. On the contrary, I have recently ascertained,
beyond a doubt, that he is still alive. Hitherto, I have failed in tracing
him out, though I have got a clue to him; but he has enveloped himself in
so much mystery that he is difficult of detection. Yet I trust to succeed
ere long; and my great business will be to prevent his re-appearance,
which would be fraught with danger to us both. I have a scheme on foot in
reference to him which will answer more than one purpose. You will learn
it anon. And now, to give you the explanation you require in respect to
Aveline."</p>
<p>And he stamped upon the floor.</p>
<p>"You are not about to invoke a spirit of darkness to our councils?" said
Sir Francis, staring at him in astonishment and alarm.</p>
<p>"You will see," rejoined the extortioner with a grim smile.</p>
<p>After a brief pause, the door was almost noiselessly opened, and Clement
Lanyere entered the chamber.</p>
<p>"What has Lanyere to do with the matter?" cried Sir Francis, suspiciously
regarding the promoter, who was without his mask.</p>
<p>"You will hear," replied Sir Giles. "Be pleased to inform Sir Francis,
good Lanyere, how you come to be in a position to demand the hand of fair
Mistress Aveline Calveley?"</p>
<p>"He demand it! I understand you not, Sir Giles!" exclaimed the old usurer.</p>
<p>"Let him speak, I pray you, Sir Francis," returned the other. "You will
the sooner learn what you desire to know."</p>
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