Middlemarch - Page 490/561

But Will was looking as stubborn as possible, with his lip pouting and

his fingers in his side-pockets. He was not in the least touched, and

said firmly,--

"Before I make any reply to your proposition, Mr. Bulstrode, I must beg

you to answer a question or two. Were you connected with the business

by which that fortune you speak of was originally made?"

Mr. Bulstrode's thought was, "Raffles has told him." How could he

refuse to answer when he had volunteered what drew forth the question?

He answered, "Yes."

"And was that business--or was it not--a thoroughly dishonorable

one--nay, one that, if its nature had been made public, might have

ranked those concerned in it with thieves and convicts?"

Will's tone had a cutting bitterness: he was moved to put his question

as nakedly as he could.

Bulstrode reddened with irrepressible anger. He had been prepared for

a scene of self-abasement, but his intense pride and his habit of

supremacy overpowered penitence, and even dread, when this young man,

whom he had meant to benefit, turned on him with the air of a judge.

"The business was established before I became connected with it, sir;

nor is it for you to institute an inquiry of that kind," he answered,

not raising his voice, but speaking with quick defiantness.

"Yes, it is," said Will, starting up again with his hat in his hand.

"It is eminently mine to ask such questions, when I have to decide

whether I will have transactions with you and accept your money. My

unblemished honor is important to me. It is important to me to have no

stain on my birth and connections. And now I find there is a stain

which I can't help. My mother felt it, and tried to keep as clear of

it as she could, and so will I. You shall keep your ill-gotten money.

If I had any fortune of my own, I would willingly pay it to any one who

could disprove what you have told me. What I have to thank you for is

that you kept the money till now, when I can refuse it. It ought to

lie with a man's self that he is a gentleman. Good-night, sir."

Bulstrode was going to speak, but Will, with determined quickness, was

out of the room in an instant, and in another the hall-door had closed

behind him. He was too strongly possessed with passionate rebellion

against this inherited blot which had been thrust on his knowledge to

reflect at present whether he had not been too hard on Bulstrode--too

arrogantly merciless towards a man of sixty, who was making efforts at

retrieval when time had rendered them vain.