While Riccabocca thus amused himself, Randal had not been prevented,
either by his official cares or his schemes on Violante's heart and
fortune, from furthering the project that was to unite Frank Hazeldean
and Beatrice di Negra. Indeed, as to the first, a ray of hope was
sufficient to fire the ardent and unsuspecting lover. And Randal's
artful misrepresentation of his conference with Mrs. Hazeldean removed
all fear of parental displeasure from a mind always too disposed to give
itself up to the temptation of the moment. Beatrice, though her feelings
for Frank were not those of love, became more and more influenced by
Randal's arguments and representations, the more especially as her
brother grew morose, and even menacing, as days slipped on, and she could
give no clew to the retreat of those whom he sought for. Her debts, too,
were really urgent. As Randal's profound knowledge of human infirmity
had shrewdly conjectured, the scruples of honour and pride, that had made
her declare she would not bring to a husband her own encumbrances, began
to yield to the pressure of necessity. She listened already, with but
faint objections, when Randal urged her not to wait for the uncertain
discovery that was to secure her dowry, but by a private marriage with
Frank escape at once into freedom and security. While, though he had
first held out to young Hazeldean the inducement of Beatrice's dowry as
a reason of self-justification in the eyes of the squire, it was still
easier to drop that inducement, which had always rather damped than fired
the high spirit and generous heart of the poor Guardsman. And Randal
could conscientiously say, that when he had asked the squire if he
expected fortune with Frank's bride, the squire had replied, "I don't
care." Thus encouraged by his friend and his own heart, and the
softening manner of a woman who might have charmed many a colder, and
fooled many a wiser man, Frank rapidly yielded to the snares held out for
his perdition. And though as yet he honestly shrank from proposing to