“I feel so bewildered,” said Ernest, pressing his pale brow; “I think that it must all be a dream.”
“It is no dream,” said Mr. Ewart, seating himself by his side; “all is true that your brother has told you.”
“Brother!” exclaimed Ernest, fixing his moistened eyes upon Charles, “Oh, my lord!”
“He is so wilful,” laughed Charles; “we shall never get him to sign himself Fontonore.”
“I do not wish to be a lord,” said Ernest, gravely; “I am not fit to be a lord. I know next to nothing. I have hardly read a book but the Bible. Oh, do you be the nobleman, and let me be your brother! You shall have the fortune, and the estates, and all that—I never could bear to deprive you of them!”
“You have no choice, Ernest,” said Mr. Ewart; “you can no more help being a noble than you can help being your father’s son: you cannot avoid receiving the ten talents; your care now must be to make a right use of them. Both Ann and Lawless have publicly confessed.”
“I hope that they are not to suffer on account of me,” said Ernest; “especially my mo—— she whom I once thought my mother. It would imbitter the whole of my life.”
“Lawless is committed to trial for forgery (a purse of base coin was found on his person); Ann, for her conduct towards you. I will try to do all in my power, as it is your wish, to make the sentence of the law fall lightly on the woman.”
“What of me?” interrupted Charles. “Oh, I see that you intend to disown me already,” he added, playfully; “you will neither believe nor acknowledge me, so I shall leave you to the management of Mr. Ewart,” and so saying he left the apartment.
“I am going to ask what I fear you will think a strange question,” said Ernest to the clergyman, as soon as they were alone; “I know that I am to have a very large fortune, but—but—shall I have any of it to spend as I like now?”
“You will doubtless have the same allowance that has been given to Charles,” replied Mr. Ewart, naming the sum.
“So much!” exclaimed Ernest in surprise; “and Lord Fontonore—I mean my brother?”
“What he may receive will depend upon his uncle. Poor Charles! he has nothing of his own.”
“Half of mine at least shall be his. Let him have it without knowing from whom it comes.”
Mr. Ewart smiled, and pressed the boy’s hand.