The young gentleman did not, at first, even produce his prize, but sat down at table with a cheerful nod, that seemed to say, ‘I have found it at last, and by the sacred bones that rest by Avon’s stream, it is worth the finding.’
‘Well, Willie,’ exclaimed Margaret, impatiently, ‘what is it?’
The young man gravely produced two half-sheets of paper.
At the sight of it, for he knew that it was not the new Bath Post, the antiquary’s eyes glistened.
‘Why not call me “father,” Samuel?’ put in the old man, gently; if it was the sense of favours to come that moved him, it was at least a deep and genuine sense of them. Margaret’s fair face glowed with pleasure.
‘I have often heard you say, father, that you wished above all things to discover what were, in reality, Shakespeare’s religious convictions.’
The antiquary nodded assent, but said nothing; the intensity of expectation, indeed, precluded speech; the perspiration came out upon his forehead.
‘It distressed you, I know, to believe it possible—as, indeed, the language used by the Ghost in “_Hamlet_” would seem to imply, that he was of the Catholic persuasion. In the profession of faith found at Stratford—— ‘
‘Spurious,’ put in Mr. Erin, mechanically; ‘that fool, Malone, believed in it, nobody else.’
This was not quite in accordance with fact; for many months the whole Shakespearean world had admitted its authenticity.
‘If it had been true, however, it would have offended your sense of the fitness of things.’
‘No doubt; still we must take things as they really were.’
Even if it should turn out that Shakespeare was not so good a Protestant as he ought to be, the value of a genuine manuscript was not to be depreciated.
‘Well! I have been this day so fortunate as to discover what will put all doubts at rest upon this point. Shakespeare was a Protestant.’
‘Thank Heaven!’ murmured Mr. Erin, piously. ‘If you have done this, my son, you have advanced the claims of true religion, and quickened the steps of civilisation throughout the world.’
Margaret’s eyes opened very wide (as well they might), but they only beheld William Henry. She had been wont to rally him upon his vanity, and especially upon the hopes he had built upon his poetical gifts. Yet how much greater a mark was he making in the world than his most sanguine aspirations had imagined! And how quiet and unassuming he looked! The modest way in which he habitually bore his honours pleased her even more than the honours themselves.
