Frank Fairlegh

F >> Frank E. Smedley >> Frank Fairlegh

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

"I should advise your leaving out that last piece of munificence,"
replied I; "she might think it an insult." "An insult, eh? Oh, if she's
so proud as all that comes to I'd better stay away altogether; I shall
be safe to put my foot into it there, a good deal faster than I have
into these villainous boots--that's it, Sampson, another pull such as
that and the deed's done," added Lawless, patting the human Boots on the
back encouragingly.

"I was just going to ride over to inquire after Miss Saville myself,"
said I.

"That's the very thing, then," was the reply. "I'll drive you there
instead; it will be better for your scorched fin (pointing to my injured
arm) than jolting about outside a horse, and you shall tell me what to
say as we go along; you seem to understand the sex, as they call the
petticoats, better than I do, and can put a fellow up to a few of the
right dodges. I only wish they were all horses, and then I flatter
myself I should not require any man's advice how to harness, drive,
train, or physic them."

"The ladies are infinitely indebted to you," replied I, as I ran
upstairs to prepare for our expedition.

A drive of rather less than an hour and a half, during which the
thorough-breds performed in a way to delight every lover of horseflesh,
brought us to the park gate of Barstone Priory, where Mr. Vernor
resided. After winding in and out for some half-mile amongst groups
of magnificent forest-trees, their trunks partially concealed by
plantations of rare and beautiful shrubs, a sudden turn of the road
brought us in front of the Priory--an ancient, venerable-looking pile
of building, which had evidently, as its name implied, once belonged to
some religious community. The alterations it had undergone, in order to
adapt it to its present purpose, had been carried out with more taste
and skill than are usually met with in such cases. The garden, with its
straight terrace-walks and brilliant flower-beds, contrasted well
with the grey stone of which the building was composed, while the
smooth-shaven lawn, with an old, quaintly carved sundial in the centre,
and, above all, the absence of any living creature whatsoever, imparted
an air of severe formality to the scene, which, as the eye rested
upon it, seemed to realise all one had read of monastic discipline and
seclusion; and one half expected to see a train of dark-veiled nuns or
sandalled friars winding slowly forth from the hall-door.

~147~~"What a singular old shop!" exclaimed my companion, regarding the
structure with a look of displeased criticism; "wretched little windows
as ever I saw; they must be all in the dark inside on a dull day, and
every day would be dull if one lived there, I should think. It would
puzzle a fellow to tell whether that building was clerical or lay, fish
or flesh; a castle that had taken a serious turn, or a church out for
the day in plain clothes; how people can like to live in such a mouldy,
rusty, musty old barn, that looks as full of ghosts as a cheese is of
mites, I can't conceive."

"There certainly is an appearance of gloom and loneliness about the
place," replied I; "but I think it is chiefly owing to the absence of
any living object--a herd of deer in the park, a group of children and
dogs playing on the lawn--anything to give animation to the picture,
would be the greatest improvement."

"I should just think it would," returned Lawless. "Fancy a pack of
hounds under that jolly old oak yonder, the huntsman and whips in their
bits of pink, and a field of about fifty of the right sort of fellows
on thorough-breds, dawdling about, talking to one another, or taking
a canter over the turf, just to settle themselves in the saddle; that
would be a sight to make old Vernor look a little better pleased than he
did last night, sing out for his boots and buckskins, and clap his leg
over the first four-footed beast that came in his way, even if it should
happen to be the old cow."

"I hope I may be there to see if he does," replied I laughing.

On inquiring whether Mr. Vernor was at home we were answered in the
affirmative by a tall, gaunt-looking man-servant, with a stern, not
to say surly, countenance, the expression of which was in some degree
contradicted by a pair of quick, restless little grey eyes, which in
any other face one should have said twinkled merrily beneath the large
grizzled eyebrows which o'ershadowed them.

Having, at Lawless's request, procured a nondescript hobbledehoy of
indefinite character to stand at the horses' heads (we had left
Shrimp behind, by common consent, that he might be no restraint on
our conversation), he conducted us across the hall into a kind of
morning-room, fitted up with oak panels, and with a very handsome
old carved oak chimney-piece reaching half-way to the ceiling. He
was leaving the room to inform his master of our arrival when Lawless
stopped him by saying:--

"Here, just wait a bit; tell the young woman--that is ~148~~to say,
don't tell her anything; but I mean, let Miss Saville be made aware (I
see you're awake, for all your long face), put her up to our being here;
don't you know, eh?" "Tip him," whispered I.

"Eh, stop a bit; you're a very honest fellow, and it's right to reward
faithful servants; and--you understand all about it, eh?"

One portion of this somewhat incoherent address he did understand,
evidently, for without altering a muscle of his face, he put out his
hand, took the money, and left the room with the same unconscious air
of imperturbability which he had maintained throughout the whole
conference. "Good move that, eh?" exclaimed Lawless, as soon as the door
was closed; "that'll fetch her out of her hole, for a guinea. Mind, I
shall do my best to cut you out, Master Frank. I don't see why I haven't
a right to quite as large a share of her gratitude as you have, for if
I hadn't set her on fire you'd never have put her out; so, in fact, she
owes it all to me--don't you see?"

"I'm afraid there's a little sophistry in that argument," replied
I; "but we had better wait till we find whether we shall have the
opportunity afforded us of trying our powers of fascination before we
quarrel about the effects to be produced by them. I cannot say I feel
over sanguine as to the success of your somewhat original negotiation
with that raw-boned giant in the blue plush _sine qua nons_, as Coleman
calls them."

"Time will show," rejoined Lawless, turning towards the door, which
opened at this moment to admit Mr. Vernor; and, alas! him only.

His reception of us, though perfectly easy and well-bred, was anything
but agreeable or encouraging. He answered our inquiries after Miss
Saville's health by informing us, cursorily, that no ill effects had
ensued from her alarm of the previous evening. He received Lawless's
apologies with a calm, half-ironical smile, and an assurance that they
were not required; and he slightly thanked me for my obliging assistance
in words perfectly unexceptionable in themselves, but which, from a
peculiarity in the tone of voice more than anything else, impressed one
with a sense of insult rather than of compliment. Still, in compliance
with certain expressive looks from Lawless, who evidently was most
unwilling to be convinced of the failure of his little bit of diplomacy,
I used every means I could think of to prolong the visit. I first
admired, then criticised, the carving of the chimney-piece; I dived
into a ~149~~book of prints which lay upon the table, and prosed about
mezzo-tint and line engraving, and bored myself, and of course my
hearers also, till our powers of endurance were taxed almost beyond
their strength; and, at last, having completely exhausted not only my
small-talk, but my entire stock of conversation of all sorts and sizes,
I was regularly beaten to a stand-still, and obliged to take refuge
in alternately teasing and caressing a beautiful black and tan setter,
which seemed the only member of the party thoroughly sociable and at his
ease.

At length it became apparent even to Lawless himself that the visit
could not be protracted longer, and we accordingly rose and took our
leave, our host (I will not call him entertainer, for it would be a
complete misnomer) preserving the same tone of cool and imperturbable
politeness to the very last. On reaching the hall we encountered the
surly old footman, whose features looked more than ever as if they had
been carved out of some very hard species of wood.

"I say, old boy, where's the young lady, eh?" exclaimed Lawless, as soon
as he caught sight of him; "she never showed so much as the tip of her
nose in the room; how was that, eh?"

"If she com'd into the room when gentlemen was calling, master would eat
her without salt," was the reply.

"Which fact you were perfectly aware of when you took my tip so quietly
just now?"

"In course I was, why should I not be?"

"Done brown for once, by Jove!" muttered Lawless as he left the hall;
"a raw-boned old rogue, I'll be even with him some day, though----, we
shall see, eh?"

While Lawless was busily engaged in settling some of the harness which
had become disarranged the old footman came up to me and whispered,
"Make use of your eyes as you drive through the park, and mayhap you'll
spy some _game worth looking after_, young gentleman".

Surprised at this unexpected address, I turned to question him as to
its meaning, but in vain; for no sooner had he finished speaking than he
re-entered the hall and shut the door behind him.

What could he intend me to understand, thought I; he evidently wished
to imply something beyond the simple meaning of the words "game
worth looking after"; could he mean to----no! the thing is
impossible--"absurd!" exclaimed I, as a wild idea shot through my brain
and I felt myself colour like a girl.

~150~~"What's absurd?" exclaimed Lawless, gathering up the reins as
he spoke; "what are you talking about? why, you're ranting and staring
about you like a play-actor; what's the matter with you, eh, Frank?"

"Nothing," replied I, taking my seat; "don't drive too fast through the
park, I want to look at the view as we go along."

In obedience to the gaunt domestic's mysterious injunction I made the
best use of my eyes as we retraced our way through the park, and for my
pains had the satisfaction of beholding a solitary rabbit, half-hidden
under a dock-leaf, and sundry carrion crows.

CHAPTER XVIII -- THE GAME IN BARSTONE PARK

"The fringed curtains of thine eye advance and say what
thou see'st yond."
--_Tempest_.

"Accost, Sir Andrew, accost."
--_Twelfth Night_.

"Let us go thank him and encourage him.
My _Guardian's_ rough and envious disposition
Strikes me at heart--Sir you have well deserved."
--_As You Like It_.

WE had arrived within a quarter of a mile of the gate, and I had just
settled to my thorough dissatisfaction that the old footman must be a
humorist, and had diverted himself by making a kind of April-fool out
of season of me, when, through the trees, which at that spot stretched
their huge branches across the road so as to form a complete arch, I
fancied I perceived the flutter of a woman's dress; and, in another
moment, a turn in the drive disclosed to my view a female form, which I
instantly recognised as that of Clara Saville.

Without a minute's hesitation I sprang to the ground before Lawless had
time to pull up, and, saying to him, "I shall be back again directly;
wait for me, there's a good fellow," I hastily entered a winding path,
which led through the trees to the spot where I had seen the young lady,
leaving my companion mute from astonishment. Up to this moment, acting
solely from a sort of instinctive impulse which made me wish to see
and speak to Miss Saville, I had never considered the light in which my
proceedings might appear to her. What right, I now asked myself, had
I to intrude upon her privacy, and, ~151~~as it were, force my company
upon her, whether she wished it or not? Might she not look upon it as
an impertinent intrusion? As these thoughts flitted through my brain I
slackened my pace; and had it not been for very shame could have found
in my heart to turn back again. This, however, I resolved not to do;
having committed myself so far, I determined to give her an opportunity
of seeing me, and, if she should show any intention of avoiding me, it
would then be time enough to retrace my steps and leave her unmolested.
With this design I proceeded slowly up the path, stopping now and then
as if to admire the view, until a turn of the walk brought me in sight
of a rustic bench, on which was seated the young lady I had before
observed. As soon as she perceived me she rose and turned towards me,
disclosing, as she did so, the graceful form and lovely features of my
partner of the preceding evening. The morning costume, including a
most irresistible little cottage-bonnet lined with pink, was even more
becoming to her than the ball-dress; and when, instead of the cold
air of constraint which had characterised her manner of the previous
evening, she advanced to meet me with a slight blush and the most
bewitching smile of welcome that ever set man's heart beating, I thought
I had never seen anything so perfectly beautiful before.

"I must ask your forgiveness for venturing thus to intrude upon you,
Miss Saville," began I, after we had exchanged salutations; "but the
temptation of learning from your own lips that you had sustained no
injury was too strong to be resisted, more particularly after the
disappointment of finding you were from home when I did myself the
pleasure of calling on Mr. Vernor to inquire after you."

"Nay, there is nothing to forgive," replied Miss Saville; "on the
contrary," she continued, blushing slightly, "I was anxious to see you,
in order to thank you for the eminent service you rendered me yesterday
evening."

"Really it is not worth mentioning," returned I; "it is only what any
other gentleman in the room would have done had he been in my situation;
it was good Mrs. Trottle's shawl saved you; I could have done nothing
without that."

"You shall not cheat me out of my gratitude in that way," replied she,
smiling; "the shawl would have been of little avail had it not been so
promptly and energetically applied; and, as for the other gentlemen,
they ~152~~certainly were very ready with their offers of assistance
_after_ the danger was over. I am afraid," she continued, looking down,
"you must have repented the trouble you had taken when you found what a
thankless person you had exerted yourself to save."

"Indeed, no such idea crossed my mind for an instant; the slight service
I was able to render you was quite repaid by the pleasure of knowing
that I had been fortunate enough to prevent you from sustaining injury,"
said I.

"You are very kind," was the reply; "but I can assure you I have been
exceedingly annoyed by imagining how wholly destitute of gratitude you
must have considered me!"

"Lucy Markham told me such would be the case," replied I, smiling.

"Did she?--a dear warm-hearted girl--she always does me justice!"
exclaimed Miss Saville, as she raised her beautiful eyes, sparkling with
animation, to my face. She then, for the first time, observed my injured
arm, and added quickly, "but you wear your arm in a sling; I hope--that
is--I am afraid---I trust it was not injured last night!"

"It is a mere trifle," replied I; "he wristband of my sleeve caught
fire, and burnt my arm, but it is nothing of any consequence, I can
assure you."

"I am sure you must have thought me sadly ungrateful," returned my
companion; "you exerted yourself, and successfully, to save my life,
receiving a painful injury in so doing, whilst I left the house without
offering you the thanks due even to the commonest service imaginable."

"You were not then aware that I had burnt my arm, remember; and forgive
me for adding," returned I (for I saw that she was really distressed at
the idea of my considering her wanting in gratitude), "that it did not
require any unusual degree of penetration to perceive that you were not
altogether a free agent."

"No, indeed," replied she, eagerly catching at the idea, "Mr. Vernor,
my guardian--he always means to be very kind I am sure; but," she added,
sinking her voice, "he is so very particular, and he speaks so sternly
sometimes, that--I know it is very silly--but I cannot help feeling
afraid of him. I mention this, sir, to prevent your judging me too
harshly, and I trust to your generosity not to take any unfair advantage
of my openness; and now," she added, fixing her large eyes upon me with
an imploring look which would have melted the toughest old anchorite
~153~~that ever chewed grey peas, "you will not think me so very
ungrateful, will you?"

"My dear Miss Saville," replied I, "let me beg you to believe I never
dreamt of blaming you for a moment; on the contrary, I pay you no
compliment, but only mention the simple truth, when I tell you that I
admired your behaviour throughout the whole affair exceedingly;
your presence of mind and self-control were greater than, under the
circumstances, I could have supposed possible." As she made no reply
to this, but remained looking steadfastly on the ground, with her head
turned so as to conceal her face, I continued--"I hope it is unnecessary
for me to add, that you need not entertain the slightest fear of my
making any indiscreet use of the frankness with which you have done me
the honour of speaking to me--but I am forgetting half my business,"
added I, wishing to set her at ease again, "I am charged with all sorts
of kind messages to you from good Mrs. Coleman and Miss Markham; I
presume you would wish me to tell them I have had the pleasure of
ascertaining that you have sustained no ill effects from your alarm."

"Oh yes, by all means," replied Miss Saville, looking up with a pleased
expression, "give my kind love to them both, and tell dear Lucy I shall
come over to see her as soon as ever I can."

"I will not intrude upon you longer, then, having delivered my message,"
said I; "I have kept my companion, the gentleman who was so unfortunate
as to overturn the candelabrum, waiting an unconscionable time already;
he is very penitent for his offence; may I venture to relieve his mind
by telling him that you forgive him?"

"Pray do so," was the reply; "I never bear malice; besides, it was
entirely an accident, you know. How thoroughly wretched he seemed when
he found what he had done; frightened as I was, I could scarcely help
laughing when I caught a glimpse of his face, he looked so delightfully
miserable," added she, with a merry laugh. After a moment's pause she
continued--"I'm afraid Mr. Vernor will think I am lost, if he should
happen to inquire after me, and I'm not forthcoming".

"Surely," said I, "he can never be so unreasonable as to blame you for
such a trifle as remaining five minutes too long. Does he expect you to
be a nun because he lives in a priory?"

"Almost, I really think," was the reply; "and now, good-bye, Mr.
Fairlegh," she continued--"I shall feel ~154~~happier since I have been
able to explain to you that I am not quite a monster of ingratitude."

"If that is the case, I am bound to rejoice in it also," answered I,
"though I would fain convince you that the explanation was not required."

Her only reply to this was an incredulous shake of the head; and, once
more wishing me good-morning, she tripped along the path; and, when
I turned to look again, her graceful figure had disappeared among the
trees.

With a flushed brow and beating heart (gentle reader, I was barely
twenty) I hastened to rejoin my companion, who, as might be expected,
was not in the most amiable humour imaginable, having had to restrain
the impatience of two fiery horses for a space of time nearly
approaching a quarter of an hour.

"Really, Lawless," I began, "I am quite ashamed." "Oh, you are, are
you?" was the rejoinder. "I should rather think you ought to be, too.
But it's always the way with you fellows who pretend to be steady and
moral, and all that sort of thing: when you do find a chance of getting
into mischief, you're worse a great deal than a man like myself, for
instance, who, without being bothered with any particular principles of
any kind, has what I call a general sense of fitness and propriety, and
does his dissipation sensibly and correctly. But to go tearing off like
a lunatic after the first petticoat you see fluttering among the
bushes in a gentleman's park, and leaving your friend to hold in two
thorough-bred peppery devils, that are enough to pull a man's arms off,
for above a quarter of an hour, it's too bad a great deal. Why, just
before you came, I fully expected when that mare was plunging about on
her hind legs----"

"How lovely she looked!" interrupted I, thinking aloud.

"You thought so, did you?" rejoined Lawless; "I wish you'd just had to
hold her; her mouth's as hard----"

"Her mouth is perfect," replied I emphatically; "quite perfect."

"Well, that's cool," muttered Lawless; "he'll put me in a passion
directly;--pray, sir, may I ask how on earth you come to know anything
about her mouth?"

"How do I know anything about her mouth?" exclaimed I. "Did I not watch
with delight its ever-varying expression?--mark each movement of those
beautiful lips, and drink in every syllable that fell from them?--not
observe her mouth! Think you, when we have been conversing together for
the last quarter of an hour, that I could fail to do so?"

~155~~"Oh he's gone stark staring mad!" exclaimed Lawless;
"strait-waistcoats, Bedlam, and all that sort o' thing, you
know;--conversing with my bay mare for the last quarter of an hour, and
drinking in every syllable that fell from her beautiful lips--oh, he's
raving!"

"What do you mean?" said I, at length awaking to some consciousness of
sublunary affairs--"Your mare!--who ever thought of your mare? it's Miss
Saville I'm talking about."

"Miss Saville!" repeated Lawless, giving vent to a long whistle,
expressive of incredulity; "why, you don't mean to say you've been
talking to Miss Saville all this time, do you?"

"To be sure I have," replied I; "and a very interesting and agreeable
conversation it was too."

"Well," exclaimed Lawless, after a short pause; "all the luck in this
matter seem's to fall to your share; so the sooner I get out of it the
better. It won't break my heart, that's one comfort;--if the young woman
has the bad taste to prefer you to me, why, it can't be helped, you
know;--but what did she say for herself, eh?"

"She sent you her forgiveness for one thing," replied I; and I then
proceeded to relate such particulars of the interview as I considered
expedient; which recital, and our remarks thereupon, furnished
conversation during the remainder of our drive.

CHAPTER XIX -- TURNING THE TABLES

"'You should also make no noise in the streets.'

"'You may stay him.'

"'Nay, by're lady, that I think he cannot.'

"'Five shillings to one on't with any man that knows the
statutes, he may stay him. His wits are not so blunt as, God help, I
would desire they were. It is an offence to stay a man _against
his will_. Dost thou not suspect my place? dost thou not suspect
my years? O that he were here to write me down an ass! but,
masters, remember that I am an ass: though it be not written
down, yet forget not that I am an ass."
--_Much Ado About Nothing_.

ABOUT a week had elapsed after the events which I have just recorded,
when one morning, shortly before my return to Cambridge, I received a
letter from Coleman, detailing the finale of the bellringing affair. It
ran as follows:--

~156~~"My Dear Frank--Doubtless you are, or ought to be, very anxious
to hear how I contrived to get out of the scrape into which you and
the Honourable George managed to inveigle me, having previously availed
yourselves of my innocence, and succeeded, through the seductive medium
of oysters and porter, in corrupting my morals, then leaving me, poor
victim! to bear the blame, and suffer the consequences, of our common
misdemeanour. However, mine is no pitiful spirit to be quelled by
misfortune, and, as dangers thickened around me, I bore up against them
bravely, like--like--(was it Julius Caesar or Coriolanus who did that
sort of thing?) but never mind--like _a_ Roman brick, we'll say; the
particular brick is quite immaterial, but I must beg you to believe the
likeness was something striking. To descend to particulars.--Hostilities
were commenced by that old ass, Mayor Dullmug, who took out a summons
against me for creating a riot and disturbance in the town, and the
first day the bench sat I was marched off by two policemen, and locked
up in a little dirty room, to keep cool till their worships were ready
to discuss me. Well, there I sat, kicking my heels, and chuckling over a
heart-rending little scene I had just gone through with my mother, whose
dread of the terrors of the law was greatly increased by the very vague
ideas she possessed of the extent of its powers. The punishment she had
settled in her own mind as likely to be awarded me was transportation,
and her farewell address was as follows: 'If they should be cruel enough
to order you to be transported for fourteen years, Freddy, my dear, I
shall try to persuade your father (though he's just like a savage North
American Indian about you) to get it changed "for life" instead, for
they always die of the yellow fever for the sharks to eat them, when
they've been over there three or four years; and four years are better
than fourteen, though bad's the best, and I'm a miserable woman. I
read all about it last week in one of Captain Marryat's books, and very
shocking I thought it,'--Having ventured to hint that if I was carried
off by the yellow fever at the end of a year or two, the length of my
sentence would not signify much to me when I was dead, I was rebuked
with 'Don't talk in that shocking way, Frederick, as if you were a
heathen, in your situation, and I hearing you your collect every Sunday,
besides Mrs. Hannah More, who might have been a saint if ever there was
one, or anything else she liked, with her talents, only she was too
good for this wicked world, and so she went to a better, and wrote that
charming book _Colebs_ ~157~~_in Search of a Wife_'.--Oh! my poor dear
mother's queer sentences! I was becoming shockingly tired of my own
company, when it occurred to me that it would be the correct thing to
carve my name on the Newgate stone _a la_ Jack Sheppard; and I was
just putting a few finishing strokes to the N of Coleman, wherewith,
in characters at least six inches long, I had embellished a very
conspicuous spot over the chimney-piece, when I was surprised 'with my
chisel so fine, tra la,' (i.e., with a red-hot poker, which I had been
obliged to put up with instead, it being the only implement attainable,)
by the officials, who came to summon me, and who did not appear in the
slightest degree capable of appreciating the beauties of my performance.
By them I was straightway conducted into the awful presence of sundry
elderly gentlemen, rejoicing in heads all more or less bald, and faces
expressing various degrees of solemn stupidity, who in their proper
persons constituted 'the bench'. Before these grave and reverend
signiors did Master Dullmug and his satellites