"
"Gracious Providence!" cried Thaddeus, catching Pembroke's hand, and
looking eagerly and with agitation in his face "was it you who came
to my prison? Was it Miss Beaufort who visited my lodgings?"
"Indeed it was," returned his friend, "and I blush for my self that I
quitted Newgate without an interview. Had I followed the dictates of
common courtesy, in the fulfilment of my commission, I should have
seen you; and then, what pain would have been spared my dear cousin!
What a joyful surprise would have awaited myself!"
Thaddeus could only reply by pressing his friend's hand. His brain
whirled. He could not decide on the nature of his feelings; one
moment he would have given worlds to throw himself at Miss Beaufort's
feet, and the next he trembled at the prospect of meeting her so
soon.
"Dear Sobieski!" cried Pembroke, "how strangely you receive this
intelligence! Is it possible such sentiments from Mary Beaufort can
be regarded by a soul like yours with coldness?"
"O no!" cried the count, his fine face flushed with emotion. "I adore
Miss Beaufort. Her virtues possess my whole heart. But can I forget
that I have only that heart to offer? Can I forget that I am a
beggar?--that even now I exist on her bounty?" The eyes of Thaddeus,
and the sudden tremor which shook his frame, finished this appeal to
his fate.
Pembroke found it enter his soul.
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