Frank Fairlegh

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"You put home questions, my friend," replied I, colouring slightly;
"however, as Miss Saville tells me you are faithful and trustworthy, and
as half-confidences are never ~307~~ of any use, I suppose you must hear
all about it." I then told him as concisely as possible of my love for
Clara, and my hopes of one day calling her my own; pointing out to him
the difficulties that stood in the way, and explaining to him that the
only one which appeared to me insurmountable was the probability of
Mr. Vernor's attempting to force Clara into an immediate marriage with
Cumberland. Having thus given him an insight into the true state of
affairs, I showed him the necessity of establishing some means of
communication between Clara and myself, as it was essential that I
should receive the earliest possible information in regard to Mr.
Vernor's proceedings.

"I understand, sir," interrupted Peter, "you want to be able to write
to each other without the old 'un getting hold of your letters: well,
that's very easily managed; only you direct to Mr. Barnett, to be left
at the Pig and Pony, at Barstone; and anything you send for Miss Clara,
I'll take care and give her when nobody won't be none the wiser for
it; and any letters she writes I'll put into the post myself. I'd do
anything rather than let that young villain Cumberland have her, and
make her miserable, which his wife is safe to be, if ever he gets
one; and if you likes her and she likes you, as seems wery probable,
considering you saved her from being burnt to death, as they tell me,
and is wery good-looking into the bargain--which goes a great way with
young ladies, if you'll excuse the liberty I takes in mentioning of
it--why, the best thing as you can do, is to get married as soon as you
can."

"Very pleasant advice, friend Peter," returned I, "but not so easily
acted upon; people cannot marry nowadays without something to live
upon."

"Well, ain't Miss Clara got Barstone Priory, and plenty of money to keep
it up with? Won't that do to live upon?"

"And do you imagine I could ever feel content to be the creature of
my wife's bounty? prove myself a needy fortune-hunter, as that old man
dared to term me?" exclaimed I, forgetting the character of my auditor.

"Barstone Priory to live in, and more money than you know what to do
with, ain't to be sneezed at neither," was the answer; "though I likes
your independent spirit too, sir: but how do you mean to manage, then?"

"Why, Mr. Vernor hinted that if his ward married without his consent,
her fortune was to be forfeited."

"Ah! I believe there was something of that nature in the will: my poor
master was so wrapped up in old Wernor that he wrote just wot he told
him; if he'd only ~308~~ a lived to see how he was going to use Miss
Clara, he'd a ordered me to kick him out of the house instead."

"Perhaps that pleasure may be yet in store for you, Peter," replied I,
laughing at the zest with which he uttered the last few words, and an
involuntary motion of the foot by which they were accompanied; "but this
power, which it seems Mr. Vernor really possesses, of depriving Miss
Saville of her fortune, removes my greatest difficulty; for in that
case, if he should attempt to urge on this match, I can at least make
her the offer of sharing my poverty: there is my mother's roof to
shelter her, and, if her guardian refuses his consent to our marriage,
why, we must contrive to do without it, that is all. So now, Peter,
if you will wait a few minutes, I will give you a note for your young
mistress, and then get to horse without further loss of time;" and
calling for pen, ink, and paper, I hastily scribbled a few lines to
Clara, informing her of the events of the morning, and of my unalterable
determination to save her from a union with Cumberland; begging her, at
the same time, to continue firm in her opposition, to acquaint me with
everything that might occur, and to rely upon me for protection in the
event of anything like force being resorted to. I then entrusted my note
to old Peter, begged him to watch Master Richard Cumberland closely,
told him that upon his care and vigilance depended in great measure the
happiness of his young mistress's life; tipped him handsomely, though
I had some trouble in making him take the money; and, mounting my
ill-disposed horse, rode back to Hillingford, on the whole tolerably
well satisfied with my morning's work.

I found two letters awaiting my return: one from my mother, to say that
she should be at Heathfield Cottage on the following day, and begging
me to meet her; the other from Ellis, telling me that at length he hoped
Oaklands was in a fair way to recover, it having been ascertained that a
piece of the wadding of the pistol had remained behind when the ball was
extracted; this had now come away, and the wound was healing rapidly. As
his strength returned, Harry was growing extremely impatient to get back
to Heathfield; and Ellis concluded by saying that they might be expected
any day, and begging me at the same time to remember that from the first
he had always declared, in regard to his patient, that it would have
killed any other man, but that it could not kill him.

Days glided by, the absentees returned, and matters fell so completely
into their old train again that the occurrences ~309~~ of the last eight
months seemed like the unreal creations of some fevered dream, and there
were times when I could scarcely bring myself to believe them true.

Harry Oaklands had recovered sufficiently to resume his usual habits;
and, except that he was strictly forbidden to over-exert or fatigue
himself (an injunction he appeared only too willing to obey), he was
nearly emancipated from medical control. Fanny had in great measure
regained her good looks again; a slight delicacy of appearance, however,
still remained, giving a tone of spirituality to the expression of her
features, which was not before observable, and which to my mind rendered
her prettier than ever: the listlessness of manner which had made me
uneasy about her in the autumn had vanished, and her spirits seemed
good; still, she was in a degree altered, and one felt in talking to her
that she was a child no longer. Like Undine, that graceful creation of
La Motte Fouque's genius, she appeared to have changed from a "tricksy
sprite" into a thinking and feeling woman.

One morning Oaklands and Ellis came to the cottage together, the latter
in a great state of joy and excitement, produced by a most kind and
judicious exercise of liberality on the part of Sir John. About a month
before, the grave and pompous Dr. Probehurt had been seized with an
illness, from which in all probability he would have recovered had he
not steadily refused to allow a rival practitioner to be called in,
in order that he might test a favourite theory of his own, embodying
a totally novel mode of treatment for the complaint with which he was
attacked. Unfortunately, the experiment failed, and the doctor died. Sir
John, who had been long anxious to evince his gratitude to Ellis for
the skill and attention he had bestowed upon his patient, the moment
he heard of the event determined to purchase the business: he had that
morning completed the negotiation, and offered the practice to Ellis,
stating that he should consider his accepting it in the light of a
personal favour, as in that case he would be always at hand, should
Harry feel any lasting ill effects from his wound. Ellis's joy was most
amusing to witness.

"I tell you what, sir," he exclaimed, seizing me by a button of the
coat, "I'm a made man, sir! there isn't a better practice in the county.
Why, poor Probehurt told me himself old Mrs. Croaker Crawley alone was
worth a hundred pounds per annum to him:--four draughts and two pills
everyday--prescription very simple--R. Pil. panis compos, ii. nocte
sum.; haust. aqua vitae 1/2, aqua pura 1/2 ~310~~ saccar. viii. grs. pro
re nata. She's a strong old girl, and on brandy-and-water draughts and
French-roll pills may last for the next twenty years. Noble thing of Sir
John, very; 'pon my word, it has quite upset me--it's a fact, sir, that
when Mr. Oaklandstold me of it I sat down and cried like a child. I'm
not over tender-hearted either: when I was at Guy's I amputated the left
leg of a shocking accident, and dissected the porter's mother-in-law
(whom he sold us cheap for old acquaintance' sake) before breakfast one
morning, without finding my appetite in the slightest degree affected;
but when I learned what Sir John had done, I positively cried, sir."

"I say, Ellis," interrupted Harry, "I am telling Miss Fairlegh I shall
make you take her in hand; she has grown so pale and thin, I am afraid
she has never recovered all the trouble and inconvenience we caused
her."

"If Miss Fairlegh would allow me, I should recommend a little more air
and exercise," replied Ellis: "are you fond of riding on horseback?"

"Oh, yes!" replied Fanny, smiling, and blushing slightly at thus
suddenly becoming the topic of conversation; "that is, I used to delight
in riding Frank's pony in days of yore; but he has not kept a pony
lately."

"That is easily remedied," returned Harry; "I am certain some of our
horses will carry a lady. I shall speak to Harris about it directly, and
we'll have some rides together, Fanny; it was only this morning that I
obtained my tyrant's permission to cross a horse once more," he added,
shaking his fist playfully at Ellis.

"The tyrant will agree to that more willingly than to your first
request. What do you think, Fairlegh," continued Ellis, appealing to me,
"of his positively wanting to go out hunting?"

"And a very natural thing to wish too, I conceive," replied Harry; "but
what do you think of his declaring that, if I did not faithfully promise
I would not hunt this season, he would go into the stables and divide,
what he called in his doctor's lingo, the _flexor metatarsi_ of every
animal he found there, which, being interpreted, means neither more nor
less than hamstring all the hunters."

"Well, that would be better than allowing you to do anything which might
disturb the beautiful process of granulation going on in your side. I
remember, when I was a student at Guy's----"

"Come, doctor, we positively cannot stand any more of your 'Chronicles
of the Charnel-house' this morning; ~311~~ you have horrified Miss
Fairlegh already to such a degree that she is going to run away. If I
should stroll down here again in the afternoon, Fanny, will you take
compassion on me so far as to indulge me with a game of chess? I am
going to send Frank on an expedition, and my father and Ellis are off
to settle preliminaries with poor Mrs. Probehurt, so that I shall
positively not have a creature to speak to. Reading excites me too much,
and produces a state of---- What is it you call it, doctor?"

"I told you yesterday I thought you were going into a state of coma,
when you fell asleep over that interesting paper of mine in the
_Lancet_, 'Recollections of the Knife'; if that's what you call
excitement," returned Ellis, laughing----

"Nonsense, Ellis, how absurd you are!" rejoined Oak-lands, half-amused
and half-annoyed at Ellis's remark; "but you have not granted my request
yet, Fanny."

"I do not think we have any engagement--mamma will, I am sure, be very
happy"--began Fanny, with a degree of hesitation for which I could not
account; but as I was afraid Oaklands might notice it, and attribute
it to a want of cordiality, I hastened to interrupt her by exclaiming,
"Mamma will be very happy--of course she will; and each and all of us
are always only too happy to get you here, old fellow; it does one's
heart good to see you beginning to look a little more like yourself
again. If Fanny's too idle to play chess, I'll take compassion upon you,
and give you a thorough beating myself."

"There are two good and sufficient reasons why you will not do anything
of the kind," replied Oaklands: "in the first place, while you have been
reading mathematics, I have been studying chess; and I think that I may,
without conceit, venture to pronounce myself the better player of the
two; and in the second place, as I told your sister just now, I am going
to send you out on an expedition."

"To send me on an expedition!" repeated I--"may I be allowed to inquire
its nature--where I am to go to--when I am to start--and all other
equally essential particulars?"

"They are soon told," returned Oaklands. "I wrote a few days since to
Lawless, asking him to come down for a week's hunting before the season
should be over; and this morning I received the following characteristic
answer: 'Dear Oaklands, a man who refuses a good offer is an ass (unless
he happens to have had a better one). Now, yours being the best offer
down in my book ~312~~ at present, I say, "done, along with you, old
fellow," thereby clearly proving that I am no ass. Q. E. D.--eh? that's
about the thing, isn't it? Now, look here, Jack Basset has asked me down
to Storley Wood for a day's pheasant shooting on Tuesday: if you could
contrive to send any kind of trap over about lunch-time, on Wednesday, I
could have a second pop at the long-tails, and be with you in time for a
half-past six o'clock feed as it is not more than ten miles from Storley
to Heathfield. I wouldn't have troubled you to send for me, only the
tandem's _hors de combat_. I was fool enough to lend it to Muffington
Spoffkins to go and see his aunt one fine day. The horses finding a
fresh hand on the reins, began pulling like steam-engines--Muffington
could not hold them--consequently they bolted; and after running over
two whole infant schools, and upsetting a retired grocer, they knocked
the cart into "immortal smash" against a turnpike-gate, pitching
Spoffkins into a horse-pond, with Shrimp a-top of him. It was a regular
sell for all parties: I got my cart broken to pieces, Shrimp was all but
drowned, and Muffington's aunt cut him off with a shilling, because the
extirpated squadron of juveniles turned out, unfortunately, to have been
a picked detachment of infantry from her own village. If you could send
to meet me at the Feathers' public-house, which is just at the bottom
of Storley great wood, it would be a mercy, for walking in cover doesn't
suit my short legs, and I'm safe to be used up.--Remember us to Fairlegh
and all inquiring friends, and believe me to remain, very heartily,
yours, George Lawless.'"

"I comprehend," said I, as Oaklands finished reading the note, "you wish
me to drive over this afternoon and fetch him: it will be a great deal
better than merely sending a servant."

"Why, I had thought of going myself, but, 'pon my word, these sort of
things are so much trouble--at least to me, I mean; and, though Lawless
is a capital, excellent fellow, and I like him extremely, yet I know
he'll talk about nothing but horses all the way home; and not being
quite strong again yet, you've no notion how that kind of thing worries
and tires me."

"Don't say another word about it, my dear Harry; I shall enjoy the drive
uncommonly. What vehicle had I better take?"

"The phaeton, I think," replied Oaklands, "and then you can bring his
luggage, and Shrimp, or any of his people he may have with him."

~313~~ "So be it," returned I; "I'll walk back with you to the Hall, and
then start as soon as you please.

CHAPTER XL -- LAWLESS'S MATINEE MUSICALE

"I was deep in my tradesmen's books, I'm afraid,
But not in my own, by-the-by;
And when rascally tailors came to be paid,
There'll be time enough for that, said I."
--_Song--The Old Bachelor._

"Here's a knocking, indeed! Knock, knock, knock.
Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come hither.
----Come in, tailor----
Knock, knock. Never at quiet!
What are you? I had thought to have let in
Some of all professions. Anon--anon."
--_Macbeth._

I SCARCELY know any excitement more agreeable than driving, on a fine
frosty day, a pair of spirited horses, which demand the exercise of
all one's coolness and skill to keep their fiery natures under proper
control. Some accident had happened to one of Sir John's old phaeton
horses, and Harry, who fancied that, as he was not allowed to use any
violent exercise, driving would be an amusement to him, had taken the
opportunity of replacing them by a magnificent pair of young, nearly
thorough-bred chestnuts; and these were the steeds now entrusted to
my guidance. Not being anxious, however, to emulate the fate of the
unfortunate Muffington Spoffkins, I held them well in hand for the first
three or four miles, and as they became used to their work, gradually
allowed them to quicken their pace, till we were bowling along merrily
at the rate of ten miles an hour.

A drive of about an hour and a quarter brought me within sight of the
little roadside public-house appointed for my rendezvous with Lawless.
As I drew sufficiently near to distinguish figures, I perceived the
gentleman in question scientifically and picturesquely attired in
what might with great propriety be termed no end of a shooting jacket,
inasmuch as its waist, being prolonged to a strange and unaccountable
extent, had, as a necessary consequence, invaded the region of the
skirt to a degree which reduced that appendage to the most absurd and
infinitesimal proportions. This wonderful garment was ~314~~ composed
of a fabric which Freddy Coleman, when he made its acquaintance some few
days later, denominated the Mac Omnibus plaid, a gaudy _repertoire_ of
colours, embracing all the tints of the rainbow, and a few more besides,
and was further embellished by a plentiful supply of gent.'s sporting
buttons, which latter articles were not quite so large as cheese-plates,
and represented in bas-relief a series of moving incidents by flood and
field. His nether man exhibited a complicated arrangement of corduroys,
leather gaiters and waterproof boots, which were, of course, wet
through; while, to crown the whole, his head was adorned with one of
those round felt hats, which exactly resemble a boiled apple-pudding,
and are known by the sobriquet of "wide-awakes," "cos they av'n't got no
_nap_ about 'em". A stout shooting pony was standing at the door of
the ale-house, with a pair of panniers, containing a portmanteau and a
gun-case, slung across its back, upon which was seated in triumph the
mighty Shrimp, who seemed to possess the singular property of growing
older, and nothing else; for, as well as one could judge by appearances,
he had not increased an inch in stature since the first day of our
acquaintance. His attitude, as I drove up, was one which Hunt would
have delighted to perpetuate. Perched on a kind of pack-saddle, his legs
stretched so widely apart, by reason of the stout proportions of the
pony, as to be nearly at right angles with his upper man, he "held
aloft" (not a "snowy scarf," but) a pewter pot, nearly as large as
himself, the contents of which he was transferring to his own throat,
with an air of relish and _savoir faire_, which would have done
credit to a seven-feet-high coalheaver. The group was completed by a
gamekeeper, who, seated on a low wooden bench, was dividing some bread
and cheese with a magnificent black retriever.

"By Jove! what splendid steppers!" was Lawless's exclamation as I drove
up. "Now, that's what I call perfect action; high enough to look well,
without battering the feet to pieces--the leg a little arched, and
thrown out boldly--no fear of their putting down their pins in the same
place they pick them up from. Ah!" he continued, for the first time
observing me, "Fairlegh, how are you, old fellow? Slap-up cattle you've
got there, and no mistake--belong to Sir John Oaklands, I suppose. Do
you happen to know where he got hold of them?"

"Harry wanted a pair of phaeton horses, and the coachman recommended
these," replied I; "but I've no idea where he heard of them."

~315~~ "Rising five and six," continued Lawless, examining their mouths
with deep interest; "no do there--the tush well up in one, and nicely
through in the other, and the mark in the nippers just as it should be
to correspond: own brothers, I'll bet a hundred pounds--good full eyes;
small heads, well set on; slanting shoulders; legs as clean as a colt's;
hoofs a _leetle_ small, but that's the breed. Whereabouts was the
figure, did you hear?--five fifties never bought them, unless they were
as cheap as dirt, eh?"

"That was about their price, if I remember correctly," replied I. "Harry
thought it was too much to give; but Sir John, the moment he saw his
son would like to have them, wrote the cheque, and paid for them on the
spot." "Well, I'll give him all the money any day, if he's tired of his
bargain," rejoined Lawless; "but we won't keep them standing now they're
warm. Here, Shrimp, my greatcoat--get off that pony this instant, you
luxurious young vagabond. Never saw such a boy in my life to ride as
that is--if there is anything that can by possibility carry him, not a
step will he stir on foot--doesn't believe legs were meant to walk with,
it's my opinion. Why, this very morning, before they brought out the
shooting pony, he got on the retriever; and he has such a seat too, that
the dog could not throw him, till Basset thought of sending him into
the water: he slipped off in double-quick time then, for he has had a
regular hydrophobia upon him ever since his adventure in the horse-pond.
What, not down yet? I shall take a horsewhip to you, sir, directly."

Thus admonished, Shrimp, who had taken advantage of his master's
preoccupation to finish the contents of the pewter pot, tossed the
utensil to the gamekeeper, having previously attracted that individual's
attention by exclaiming, in a tone of easy familiarity--"Look out,
Leggings!"--then, as the man, taken by surprise, and having some
difficulty in saving himself from a blow on the nose, allowed the pot
to slip through his hands, Shrimp continued, "Catch it, clumsy! veil, I
never--now mind, if you've gone and bumped it, it's your own doing,
and you pays for dilapidations, as ve calls 'em at Cambridge. Coming,
sir--d'rec'ly, sir--yes, sir." So saying, he slipped down the pony's
shoulder, shook himself to set his dress in order as soon as he reached
terra firma, and unbuckling Lawless's driving coat, which was fastened
round his waist by a broad strap, jumped upon a horse-block, and held
out the garment at arm's length for ~316~~ his master to put on. The
gun-case and carpet-bag were then transferred from the pony to the
phaeton, and, resigning the reins to Lawless, who I knew would be
miserable unless he were allowed to drive, we started. Shrimp being
installed in the hind seat, where, folding his arms, he leaned back,
favouring us with a glance which seemed to say, "You may proceed, I am
quite comfortable".

"It was about time for me to take an affectionate farewell of Alma
Mater," observed Lawless, after he had criticised and admired the
horses afresh, and at such length, that I could not help smiling at the
fulfilment of Oaklands' prediction--"it was about time for me to be off,
for the duns were becoming rather too particular in their attentions. I
got a precious fright the other day, I can tell you. I was fool enough
to pay two or three bills, and that gave the rest of the fellows a
notion that I was about to bolt, I suppose, for one morning I was
regularly besieged by them. I taught them a trick or two, though, before
I had done with them: they won't forget me in a hurry, I expect."

"Indeed! and how did you contrive to fix yourself so indelibly in their
recollections?" asked I.

"Eh! 'though lost to sight, to memory _dear_'--rather that style of
thing, you know. So you want to hear all about it, eh? Well, it was a
good lark, I must say; I was telling it to Basset last night, and it
nearly killed him. I don't know whether you have seen him lately, but
he's grown horribly fat. He has taken to rearing prize bullocks, and I
think he has caught it of 'em; rides sixteen stone, if he rides a pound.
I tell him he'll break his neck some of these days, if he chooses to go
on hunting--the horses can't stand it. However, he went into such fits
of laughter when I told him about it, that he got quite black in the
face, and I rang the bell, and swore he was in an apoplexy, but the
servant seemed used to the sort of thing, and brought him a jug of beer,
which resuscitated him. Well, to return to my mutton, as the Mounseers
have it--the very day I intended to leave Cambridge, Shrimp came in
while I was breakfasting, with a great coarse-looking letter in his
hand.

"'Please, sir, Mr. Pigskin has called with his little account, and would
be very glad if you could let him have the money.'

"Pleasant, thinks I. 'Here, boy, let's have a look at this precious
little account--hum! ha! hunting-saddle, gag-bit for Lamplighter,
head-piece and reins to ditto, ~317~~"racing-saddle for chestnut mare,'
etc., etc., etc.; a horrid affair as long as my arm--total L96 18s. 2d.;
and the blackguard had charged everything half as much again as he had
told me when I ordered it. Still, I thought I'd pay the fellow, and have
done with him, if I had got tin enough left; so I told Shrimp to show
him into the rooms of a man who lived over me, but was away at the time,
and there let him wait. Lo! and behold! when I came to look about the
tin, I found that, instead of having ninety pounds at the banker's, I
had overdrawn my account some hundred pounds or more; so that paying was
quite out of the question, and I was just going to ring the bell, and
beg Mr. Pigskin to call again in a day or two, by which time I
should have been 'over the hills and far away,' when Shrimp made his
appearance.